“A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.”

Thomas Mann

I'm still rewriting my novel, and enjoying it. I'm making changes to character, plot and wording.

I was just sitting here in bed at 6.35 a.m. trying to decide which sounds more colloquial -

‘Well, you think of a word for yellow that’s got one syllable!'

'Well, you think of a word for yellow that has one syllable!'

Yes, it comes down to minutiae like that. Earlier I was lying in the dark thinking about a character and realised I needed to make an important addition to what she found in someone else's wardrobe. But then, if she did find this item, would she mention it to the person whose wardrobe it was, and if so, when?

Which reminds me of my treasured book - The Unstrung Harp; or Mr Earbrass writes a novel....

And I just checked my email and found one from me written in the middle of the night when I got up to pee that says "Change midsummer scene. Jane thinks more."

So you see, there is lots to do.

Meanwhile, it feels as though Christmas at Hepworth Towers is being rewritten. You know how people always say to you in December "And what are you doing for Christmas?" To me they always say "And is it an ON Christmas, or an OFF Christmas?" (If you don't know what that means, read this.)

Last year it was ON, but it had to be abandoned after I'd decorated the tree, because Wendy was not recovering well from her op and I zoomed off to Boulder to help Isaac look after the family. And Dave dismantled the tree, and had the best OFF Christmas he's ever had. But we can't switch this Christmas to ON, because Zoe and family are away alternate years, and the family member who declines to be named will also be away with his fiancee.

Last weekend one of my grandsons saw a charity appeal leaflet on the kitchen table that had a photo of an old woman on it and the caption NO FAMILY, NO TREE, NO CHRISTMAS, and asked 'Is that you, Sue?' and then gave me a big hug. Oh dear.

If the snow and frost retreat, I'll be digging up my tree and bringing it in, and it will be in the sitting room, not coralled to my study, because I had to abandon it last year. Don't tell Dave this, but apart from the tree I care less and less about the ON/OFF thing. We are both still here, alive, well-fed and warm. And I'm thankful.

Being here with just Dave on Christmas Day will be lovely. And I'll be with all the family (bar Dave) on the 23rd for feasting and games at Zoe's house. I have it all.