Like the Streisand song but different – Writers, they need writers. There is something about writers, I’ve found, that sets them apart from non-writers and the only people who understand them are other scribblers. It’s an addiction, of that I’m sure. Once you start plotting and planning and creating then it is almost impossible to stop. I’ve been on holidays and I vow I won’t do any work but the need to overtakes me and I end up with paper and pen ignoring everyone and tucked up in my own imaginary world. The only time I couldn’t write was when my St Bernard, Buttercup, died and my grief for her was greater. Why do we need each other? Apart from the understanding there is sharing the same problems. Such as - the plot that has stalled. The character who is not turning out as you wanted. And, of course, that hideous one that all the authors I know suffer – the conviction that they can’t write, will never write and that everything they’ve done is total rubbish. We comfort each other, we learn we are not alone. I have just spent the most marvellous weekend at Ablington House, in the Cotswolds. www.ablingtonhouse.co.uk what a fabulous and beautiful house it is, the welcome was great, the atmosphere so relaxing. I had invited a group of writers where we critiqued each other’s work, reassured each other. I learnt so much, I laughed so much and I came away determined to finish the book I’m working on. It was such fun that I’ve decided I might take a few courses, small and exclusive ones, at Ablington. I love teaching. I can’t teach anyone how to write, that’s a gift but I can help writers hone their work, improve it. For the first lesson is that it can always be better.