When I put out a call for anecdotes about your writing lives, I hadn’t expected such an overwhelming response. I would need to use no other topic for the next six months to fit in everyone’s stories. If your anecdote didn’t make the cut, it was only because space is limited. I’ve put together some diverse tales of being a writer – I hope you enjoy them.
I empathised fully with Judith Robinson who came out of the supermarket, clueless as to the whereabouts of her car. ‘It was not surprising that I couldn’t find where I’d parked. My body may have been in Sainsbury’s, surviving the sneer from the auto-check out assistant because the machine took offence at the broccoli I was buying. My mind was not with the broccoli. In fact, I don’t even remember arriving at Sainsbury’s, let alone parking. I was elsewhere, smack in the middle of the World’s Perfect story, and it was so gripping I was holding on tight in case it dissolved at the edges and eventually feathered away into nothing.’