My poor teenage son had to wake up at 5.45 this Sunday morning to go to a rowing race on Dorney lake near Eton.  Although I could go back to sleep after he was up and out the door, my head was full of this new blog, what to write about, how to say it, how to show it to others.  As always, if I have something I need to write — even a thank you note or a business email — my brain goes into overdrive writing, editing and revising until the nasty little item is finally down on the page.  It does make for a slightly strange internal life, having your head full of half written paragraphs and snippets of dialogue all the time.  But I suppose that comes with the territory. So I decided to write this morning about what I’m reading: V.S. Naipaul’s new book, A Writer’s People: Ways of Looking and Feeling.  I love reading about writer’s lives and, of course, their struggles to get their work read.  Imagine my delight (selfish as it is) to learn that this Nobel Prize Laureate laboured in obscurity for something like 25 years before he felt his work was properly acknowledged.   And to think it only took me about 15 years from the moment I decided to admit to the world that I was a writer, to receiving the contract in the mail from my publisher for my first novel.  So my message for this Sunday — just keep going.