Summer's Almost Gone

It's been a good summer. Hot and rain-free for a good chunk of time. Quite a rarity in Cumbria. Rumours suggest that the summer of 2018 has been the hottest in England since the 1970s. That's something.

But after summer, after today, in fact, we slip into autumn. That slightly melancholy prelude to winter. The leaves will fall and nights lengthen, as happens every year, but it still seems to catch us all out. It catches me out, at least.

It's not my favourite time of year (summer gets that accolade, followed by spring, then autumn with winter somewhere well behind...) but it is a great season to knuckle down and get on with writing. Yes, writing, that somewhat forgotten hobby (if you can call it that) neglected in the lovely days of sunshine where it was much nicer to go to the beach/festival/beer garden/mountains rather than sit around and scribble.

But, as Martin Amis (or some writer) once said, writers need to read, write and live. There's been plenty of living this summer so it's now time to read and write.