You mean I can’t check my emails on holiday?

In recent years, Fin and I have noticed how difficult it is to have an actual holiday. You know, the kind where you just kick back and relax. We’re always thinking about, well, stuff. Emails to answer, stories to plot, articles to write, people to worry about: all those things, all the time. I’m especially guilty, I check messages on my phone compulsively, as though I could find an email there that will end the world if I don’t answer it immediately. Ridiculous.

So with this habit in mind, I wondered how well I would get on during our short holiday on the coast, staying in a fabulous cottage from The Creative Retreat folks that not only had no net connection, but also no mobile reception or even a landline. Surprisingly well, it turned out.

The cottage was lovely, the village beautiful, the weather rough but forgiving and the peace very welcome. Putting myself on call constantly doesn’t normally feel as though it’s bothering me, but I have this feeling that, maybe if I didn’t, I might just be a little bit happier and get a hell of a lot more writing done.

I can’t wait for our next holiday.

Holidays and mild guilt

I’m going on a mini-holiday tomorrow, a weekend trip to Arran that I’m sure will be great. The only thing is that I’m pretty sure I’m going to end up feeling guilty about missing writing time for a few days.

There’s so little time in general that finding a few free hours to get some writing done is a struggle, and the very fact I’ve been on a bit of a roll recently makes me scared of how easy it would be to disrupt the momentum.

Fingers crossed it won’t though – fingers crossed I’ll get to be a drunken idiot for a few days and come back with some good new stories to tell!