tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20734334.post-1816063086146566492008-01-11T11:11:00.000Z2008-01-13T16:00:13.959ZIt always seems to be raining when I write a blog. <br /><br />In the post today I got the application form I'd requested months ago for a stay at a writers' retreat. I'd almost forgotten I'd sent off for it...While I was writing the book it was on my list of things I really wanted to do — hiding myself away in a retreat somewhere — which, by going down to Cornwall to write big chunks of 'Abandoned', I almost did. But now that I have the application form for a 'real' writers' retreat, it seems a bit self indulgent to want to go off somewhere just to write. I might feel differently if it ever did happen — because you have to apply quite far in advance, a year or more ahead sometimes - and, by then, who knows what I'll be thinking...maybe I'd be all fired up for it again by then. But I'm also beginning to wonder whether I was motivated by the right thing — maybe 'real' work should continue to take priority over everything for now. Maybe life from now on should be about plans rather than dreams — at least for me, to make sure I never end up in any place like the laneway ever again. Maybe writing books is something for other people...or at least for another time. <br />Just pipe dreams...<br /><br />Rain has stopped, so I'm off on my bike to clear my head and get some air into my lungs. Hope it's stopped where you are...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20734334-181606308614656649?l=wanderingscribe.blogspot.com'/></div>WanderingScribehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10144517552286428103noreply@blogger.com17