I’m gardening and editing at the moment and the two processes are very similar. I received my second round of structural edits two days ago and as I move plants around, dig others out and stand back to gain perspective, it mirrors the thoughts mulling in my mind about my WIP.[image error]

There’s a lot of digging involved in my Tuscan garden. I have to remove nine very leggy lavender plants and I’ve come to the conclusion I shall need help. A shoulder operation a couple of years ago limits what I can do.

I am having help with my writing too. I am truly blessed to be working with my editor at Bookouture and she is very encouraging. When I read her opening words about what I had done so far, I was very happy: “Wow wow wow. I can’t stress enough how much I love the changes you’ve made at the last edit.”

But she is very honest too and there is more work to be done in the next couple of weeks, both in terms of packing up our Tuscan home and re-writing certain sections of my Tuscan novel. My editor’s words again: “Thinking in terms of dramatic thread, …[sic] what do these chapters add to the story – how do they progress the narrative?”

It is great to have this help. Having written over 100,000 words, it is hard to stand back and properly see. It is still my book, but an objective point of view from somebody who is in the business of selling books is wonderful. I would be a fool not to listen.

Two days ago, we also returned from the annual break we take once all our bookings for il Mulino are finished. We went south to Puglia. I hadn’t realised how tired I was, but a change is as good as a rest, they say. Before I went away – and even on the long drive south – I was typing words in my brain. But a break was needed and, after eight days, I’m ready to go again. When I am so immersed in my writing, I tend to neglect dear ones. I am sorry for that. A balance is necessary.

Just over the border into Basilicata, we visited the higgledy-piggledy town of Matera where people lived in caves (sassi) until the 1970s. Carlo Levi, a writer, painter and physician, wrote about their plight in Christ stopped at Eboli. Because of his anti-fascist activism, he was exiled to live in a remote area of Basilicata in 1935-36.

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It occurred to me that I had to read this book over forty years ago when I was at university, but I couldn’t remember much about it. My copy is still in my bookcase in England, with my maiden name written inside. I shall now read it again, but with interest this time, rather than because it was on my reading list. Youth is wasted on the young is a phrase easily bandied, but I do think I would get more out of studying for my degree now. But what-ifs are pointless. I am enjoying life now. Some writing friends wish they had started writing earlier in their lives, but I think I had to gather lots of experiences and adventures before I was ready to embark on my books.

The trip has inspired another book and I can’t wait to get started on it. I am so in love with Italy and cannot help but be inspired. It has its problems, but… so do we in Britain at present. I am not looking forward to returning to the divisive atmosphere that Brexit has stirred up.

Here are some photos of Puglia and Basilicata. Let the pictures tell the story.

Now, back to those structural edits.

Ciao for now.