Hammock - Polynesia.

I’m off on holiday next week (yay) and I’ll be taking a notebook with me (from my extensive collection) with the intention of writing whilst I’m out there.
I’ve done this every single holiday my boyfriend and I have taken over the past eight years and so far I’ve never managed to write anything. The notebook always returns untouched.
I always mean to write. I’m filled with good intentions. The book comes with me wherever I go, cosseted in my back pack as I loll on the beach or traipse around an ancient ruin. I’ve certainly had ideas for stories on holiday (Sheep’s Head Soup was inspired by Norway), but nothing of substance has ever been created.
Of course holidays are for relaxing and, although I love writing, it’s not always the most relaxing thing to do, especially if you’re trying to pull out really emotional ideas and themes. On the other had, it’s essentially ‘free’ time without the pressure of work or home life so I always get the feeling that I should be taking advantage of it by writing.

I will take the notebook with me and I do intend to do some writing. I’ll let you know if I succeed!