Usually, when I sit at my desk in the morning, it is to silence. There is no music, the phone is ignored and no one is around.

Essentially, I work to exam conditions (but without a scary exam lady watching over me). I need to be free of distractions to be able to turn inside my head enough to see and manipulate the next portion of the novel I’m working on.

This has been difficult of late. You see, there have been builders at my house. They play the radio, they hammer, and there is a charger for the drill that gives off different tunes once it’s done its work. There are the constant questions; how do you want us to do this? These bits won’t fit, which do you want us to cut? This has the wrong mechanism in it, can you call the place you bought it from? Then there is my phone which goes non-stop as different suppliers and council representatives call me to confirm the slightest of details.

I know, I know. It was me who asked for the renovation. And it will be great once it’s done. But can’t they do it quietly, and without disturbing me? After all, I’m in the middle of a really important re-write.

The result of all of this (besides the piteously low word count) is that my mind is taking over the only quiet part of the day that is left; when I’m going to sleep. Three out of the last four nights I have had major plot breakthroughs come to me as I lie in the warmth of the bed. Experience tells me that these thoughts will not still be around in the morning if I don’t write them down so the only option left is to turn a light on and grab the notebook.

Once all the work is finished, I’ll have the house to myself again. And then the story will flow. After all, then, I will have a quiet place to write.