It is nine months since my last book was published. Nine months seems a significant amount of time: gestation and birth spring to mind.

Nine months on, I have no new book to push into the world and that hasn’t happened for a few years.

Why?

Well, there are a few reasons. I hadn’t exactly lost my way with words. Rather I was tired. My husband commented last year that I was always sitting at my desk and it would be great to do more together. At first, I was riled. Writing was something I’d longed to do but never found time after following my husband’s career abroad, bringing up a family and fitting in part-time jobs – (I’m an old-fashioned 1950s baby). It was my time now and I was proud of having published nine books translated into several languages and achieving bestseller status.

I’m so proud of my books published so far and nobody can take that away from me.

But I am not going to put the blame for my pause in writing on my supportive husband.

No. The truth is I felt stale.

We stopped in Bar le Duc on our return drive to Tuscany and this broken shutter felt like me!

 All but two of my books centre round World War II and particularly in Italy. When I started out with the indie publication of my mother-in-law’s experiences in occupied Italy, I was so excited. From indie publication, that book (then known as Never Forget and Tuscan Roots) went on to be produced by two different publishers. And the latest version The Tuscan Secret, with Bookouture has been my best seller and garnered 14,200+ reviews. I’m so proud of this.

However, that excitement had dwindled. So, I took time away. However, I now find there is something missing. I cannot imagine never writing again.

Natalia Goldberg says in Writing down the Bones: “I write because there are stories that people have forgotten to tell.”

I have an idea that has been worming in my head for several years now and it is a departure from WW2 but still set in my beloved Italy. Next week, I’m booked in for a research appointment in the wonderful Museum of the Diary in the valley below me here in Tuscany.

Goldberg also writes:

“Wait until you are hungry to say something until there is an aching in you to speak. Then come back. Don’t worry. You won’t have lost time.”

I take great comfort in that. I feel the hunger pangs again and want to get going.

I am not under contract at the moment and that gives me a sense of freedom.

So as I write my first draft, I shall silence all those voices of self-doubt and censorship that most writers experience.

Sara Maitland says in The Writer’s Way:

“…you must refuse to be afraid of writing something that seems to be rubbish. It may be rubbish, in which case it needs to be cleared… but it is just as likely to be gold dust and you won’t know until you have written it. JUST ACCEPT THAT YOU DO NOT YET KNOW WHAT THIS WRITING IS AND KEEP ON GOING.” [my caps].

How liberating! Wish me fun, diligence and luck in finding my way back.

“take a writer away from his typewriter

and all you have left

is

the sickness

which started him

typing

in the

beginning” (Charles Bukowski)

(I’m not calling writing a sickness, although it is a sort of addiction. During my quiet period, I have, however, broken my ankle and also been treated for actinic keratosis… wear your Factor 50, everybody). 

I’d love to know if any other writers have experienced a similar spell of absence from their writing and what happened to get them back in their groove. Let me know.