Authors Electric

Something happened to me recently that gave me a terrible fright. (No, this doesn't have anything to do with Hallowe'en!) I completely lost my hearing overnight. I had caught a really bad cold, possibly as a divine judgement for enjoying a performance of 'The Book of Mormon' at Edinburgh Playhouse or possibly because I'd spent an afternoon playing with my grandson and some bug he had picked up at nursery had breached my defences. At first it was just a normal cold, and then I woke up three nights in a row with earache and had to sit upright in a chair for a couple of hours each time until I was comfortable enough to lie down again. After the third night of earache, I woke up and found I couldn't hear anything. Only the previous day I'd been able to hear music, and audiobooks, and the sound on television, and then suddenly I couldn't. I couldn't even ring the doctor to ask for an appointment, so my son had to do it for me, and then he had to come with...

My Previous office Some people can write to music; I can’t. I have to have silence, which is a bit of a joke as I have tinnitus, but I’ve learned to push that into the background. I live in a large double-fronted semi, and my office used to be downstairs on the side that abutted next door. They have three children, who have now reached screaming age. The party wall is extremely thin, and the fireplaces use the same chimney which seems to act as a sound box. They’re very nice people, but kids will be kids, especially when they have friends round. Consequently, we’ve decided to have the chimney bricked in and the wall soundproofed, but the guy who is going to do it has broken his hand so the job is delayed for a couple of months. I am fortunate enough to have a studio as well, which is also downstairs and on the other side of the house and a lot smaller, so I decided to up sticks and relocate. It’s been a revelation.          ...

When I was thirteen, I was off school with flu. I had quite a high temperature, but otherwise I didn’t feel too bad. I spent the time painting, and I did a picture of a cat which won a competition. (This one was done several decades later!) I'm firmly of the opinion that the fever had  interesting effects on my imagination, and I experimented with techniques that would not otherwise have occurred to me.             Unfortunately, not all illnesses are so productive, and although writing is one of the best professions to pursue under difficult circumstances the indispositions that fell you aren’t always the obvious ones. Writing is good because it doesn’t require the constitution of an ox in all weathers out of doors. You don’t need perfect hearing, or perfect sight. Terry Pratchett now dictates everything, as he can no longer see the screen properly. You don’t have to appear in public if you don’t want to, so disfigureme...