Once in a while I have to travel for work. Today I’m off down to Reading, from my home-town of Edinburgh, by plane.
There’s something about travelling, even to the most dull of places, that always hatches all kinds of new plot lines and characters for me. Perhaps it’s because I’m taken out of my comfort zone, coupled with lots of free time (waiting at airport lounges, the 45 minute bus transfer from Heathrow to Reading, quiet hours to kill at the hotel bar). I actually LOVE these dead times, and I can sit with my iPad or MacBook while watch the world go about its business.
The same always happens when I go on holiday too. Within a day of “relaxing” away from home, I’m desperate to sit down with a keyboard somewhere and write. I’m not sure what this says about me!