The rest of the time we work. This is really quite amazing for us. Working actually feels like a holiday. Clearly working is actually a holiday. I was writing about Marie Antoinette this morning. Julie says;
'You're writing about who?'
'Marie Antoinette! Very important!.....Nobody else writes about her so I will'
Actually I think she deserves a place in my histoire as I'm pretty much up to Montgolfier and his balloons.
I think this is how Ian Fleming did it on his holidays. He worked on the Bond novels for two hours in the morning, had a bit of lunch and slept it off, then my goodness it's cocktail hour, and he sat back at his desk to review his morning's endevours, and probably in his pyjamas.
Any way Julie now loves my progress since I read out 'The Renaissance' to her late last night and she almost glowed.
The book's all done 'live' with no artificial additives (except a little technical assistance from Wikipedia of course). I'd like it done by Christmas but as soon as we get back home I'm sure I'll get nothing done at all.