If I’m not writing, I’m drawing, and then there’s the matter of painting. I discovered that not having my artistic outlet at camp wasn’t healthy for me. Three weeks on a mine site in a male dominated industry means I’m generally pretty damn happy to be heading to the airport. It also makes writing a romance novel set in New York that little bit harder when you’re spending most of your time in a landscape that looks not unlike Mars.
There is always a happy medium to be found however and in my case it was buying a cheap sketchbook and coloured felt tip pens. Cross-hatching is my new pleasure and - let’s be honest here - means of writing avoidance.
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