For weeks, months, in fact, I've been positively jumping about inside with excitement about going on my first Arvon course. I'd signed up for:
six whole days dedicated to nothing but short fiction.
Adam Marek and Tania Hershman as tutors - how awesome can you get?
and no email, no mobile signal (and no family or work) so for the first time ever I could think about - and do - nothing but write.
How could I resist? Actually, I've been resisting for years - though it's my idea of heaven, going on an Arvon course felt wantonly extravagant. And yes, it was extravagant, but wanton, no.
It was heaven, but the kind of heaven where people drink lots of wine and get all passionate about adjectives. Where they plead for more of Tania's word cricket sadism - writing on the spot, using random words lobbed down the dining room table at one minute intervals. Where the thought of being flooded in and unable to leave a house with no connection to the outside world, only libraries, sounded like heaven to pretty much everyone.
It did rain an awful lot.
But the sun shone too, and Helen Dunmore made it through the floods for a wonderful night of readings and conversation.
And I learnt that even amazing writers can produce first drafts with some pretty dodgy prose in them (thank you Adam for being so generous - we all really appreciated it!). I learnt that I can and probably should expect to rewrite that first draft far more radically than I ever have before. I learnt that it's fine to take your time - lots of writers produce only a few stories a year that they like. I learnt that I really enjoy writing flash fiction.
I learnt loads more too (including how to make a rather delicious Thai green curry) but above all I reminded myself that I write because I love writing.