It worked for George Orwell and Henry Thoreau – but for Adrian McKinty,a retreat deep in rural Australia was a very unhappy tale indeedThe life of the professional novelist is an agreeable one: you make your own hours, you do your best work in your pyjamas and Ugg boots, or no boss glares at you when you contain crisps and Guinness for lunch. The only occasion when things can get a dinky tricky is when the dreaded writer’s block comes a-calling. I’ve always liked the Charles Bukowski solution: “Writing approximately writer’s block is better than not writing at all.”Unfortunately,that doesn’t really work when you’re a mystery novelist. Last August I had a deadline looming and the solution to the ending of my book was nowhere in sight. I decided that I wasn’t the problem: the problem was my family, with their annoying requests for daddy time, and food and so on.
Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com