This one's going to be more about me than Gilbert. Maybe that's good, maybe it's not; I'm not sure. I find it fatally easy to do nothing. It's actually quite fun. But there are so many things that need doing, and I keep putting them off; it's disgusting. All the emails I need to answer, and there are three pieces for the Gilbert Society Journal, plus articles to publicise the book....
(And here I am writing this blog which no one reads! Idiot!)
What I need to do is set myself a schedule.
I think I felt something like this twelve months ago, when I was in the middle of writing the book. There was a period of about one or two months, in the darkest days of winter, when it was a struggle to write even a paragraph a day, and there were days, possibly weeks, when I wrote nothing. I did wonder if it was seasonal depression.
My only comfort is that I did, in the end, finish the book. Today I have had word from The History Press that they are sending me the proofs to check. Slightly frightening, because the book will be set in stone (so to speak) after this stage. I'll just have to keep my nerve, and tell myself that it is essentially a good book. (Which it is.)
Tomorrow. That's the date when I start to become efficient. Yes.
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