Feels like Devon

The humidity is gone and there is a cool pinch to the air. It has been raining since I woke up and sitting on the porch as I write there is something vaguely familiar about the greyness and gentle dripping from the roof.

I am heading back to England in a few days and it’s like America is being kind enough to prepare me for the ensuing depression.

I have a new found motivation this time, for a long while I have toyed with the idea of writing. This blog is the spring of what I one day hope will be a sea of literary creativity.

I remember a few years back telling my housemates about ideas for writing a book and the feeling of excitement as I continually wrote and moulded ideas for plots. At the time with no direction, framework or even the faintest idea about how to write the excitement waned and the idea was shelved.

I'm not sure if it is the American ideal of anything being possible with a little hard graft or having my senses shocked to life by the Ringling museum but there is a book inside me now. I haven't a bloody clue what it is about, who the characters are or anything but it’s there and I’m ready to start the process of scratching it out.

At this point I would like to say my deepest, heartfelt sorry to my friends and family who will more than likely suffer a little as I struggle with this task and I hope you will forgive me for being such a complete world-class twunt in the coming months.

I will endeavour to keep you all informed as to how it is going here and maybe even need your help from time to time.