I may be alone in this, but as much as I adore the thought of school holidays, with lie-ins and endless dreamy days dipping my hand into the sea, as I happily devour a melting ice-cream whilst the children frolic in the surf; it never quite turns out this way!

So far, I have had a house full of small giggling people, which is fabulous, but my lazy walks along the sand have turned into tackle mum head first onto the beach, then fleece her for an ice-lolly and the family picnics in the park have turned into me being a taxi service while my children meet their social circle. I had kind of decided that at least I could sit and write while I wait for them, sipping a fragrant cappuccino no less….but this doesn’t go to plan either and I end up with a thimble full of mud-coloured tea, in an uninspiring field, while they ride their bikes around the periphery.

I’ve been trying to fit my work and writing into the school holidays and have found that I’m not writing nearly as much as I’m used to. I absolutely love taking my notebooks everywhere I go and enjoy the hustle and bustle of people outside, but this doesn’t translate into words on paper during these certain weeks.

Considering my job travels well and my children are pretty easy going, I think I might have to resort to lists, to become more time efficient. The problem is that i’m easily distracted by the possibility of a cheese and tomato sandwich in the park, while the children play on the slides. Being a tad scatty, I would probably leave the list on the swings and remember it when I got home.

After being soaked by water balloons and having grabbed one of the huge slightly over-iced biscuits that we made today, I think I might have to resort to slinking into my office for an hour or two before bedtime and have some fun writing the next section of my latest manuscript, before the small giggly people decide what they would like to do tomorrow, or I fall asleep at my desk!

Be the first to know when my next book is available! Follow me on social media for updates.

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
•