Today has been gorgeous in the extreme; cold but not freezing with the perfect light that only a Spring day can deliver. It’s been kind of day that makes you want to be alive. Of course it would been all the nice had I not had to have spent seven and a half hours of it in an office doing work. But no,this down-side is not course of which I have spoken…

The curse the perfect Spring day is that it inspires me to write. Why is that a curse? It’s a curse because what I find myself inspired to write is not Mr Tumnal’s story, but, as I drive through pretty Oxfordshire villages, brightened by snowdrops and the subtle sunlight on Cotswold stone, a revision of my late 90s story, Flyht. It’s a story set in 21st century Oxford and an island off the coast if Britain that still maintains a Recency way of life.

Clearly, after a decade of testing, I an not yet done with Flyht.