I’ve just returned from an old friend’s 50th birthday weekend in Shropshire where we stayed in a youth hostel, a first for me, for a weekend of walking, talking and celebrating. The hostel was in a valley without internet connection, mobile phone reception and television. We had taken books, walking gear, food and drink, and that was about it. It was a sort of reunion too, with many of us not having seen each other since Uni almost thirty years ago.
A twelve mile hike across the Long Mynd was the biggest challenge. Some of the hills felt like mountains, the ravines were deep and treacherous in places, but the views were stunning and the pub at the end of the walk felt like a haven. On a difficult descent one of the group lost his footing and slipped right in front of me. We both heard the doom-laden cracking sound his ankle made! With no phone signals, some of us trekked ahead u
ntil we found reception, and an air ambulance was called. He turned up later at the youth hostel with a pair of crutches supporting a broken ankle. 
There were about 50 of us for the big dinner on the Saturday night, which was followed by a trip to the local pub where turns were taken by those of us who could sing a good story, and it turned out there were a few who could do it very well. I can’t sing, so I listened and wished that I could sing a story with as much aplomb!
ntil we found reception, and an air ambulance was called. He turned up later at the youth hostel with a pair of crutches supporting a broken ankle. 
There were about 50 of us for the big dinner on the Saturday night, which was followed by a trip to the local pub where turns were taken by those of us who could sing a good story, and it turned out there were a few who could do it very well. I can’t sing, so I listened and wished that I could sing a story with as much aplomb!
What really struck me, apart from the beauty of south Shropshire, was how I’ve been spending much of my spare time over the past couple of years. I’ve been raising my profile as a new writer, tweeting, blogging, google plussing, tweeting some more... Some of that has been very, very helpful. I’ve made lots of wonderful friends through it, developed contacts, got to know the industry far better than I 
knew it before I began, all of which have been absolutely brilliant and much of it necessary. You do have to know as much as you can about the industry you are in. But the working day became increasingly stretched out so that writing and all the things associated with profile-raising and being a writer could be crammed in.
knew it before I began, all of which have been absolutely brilliant and much of it necessary. You do have to know as much as you can about the industry you are in. But the working day became increasingly stretched out so that writing and all the things associated with profile-raising and being a writer could be crammed in.Spare time was no longer spare time, and somewhere along the line the balance tipped too far in that direction, and I almost wish I didn’t have a smart phone, which allowed me to access my emails, my twitter account and all the rest of it, at weekends and strange times of the day and night, or made me feel that I should be constantly checking in just in case I missed something important. Well, I couldn’t check in at all this weekend, and I don’t think I missed anything, did I? So I’ve decided not to check my emails late in the evenings or at the weekends, unless I’m expecting something urgent. Nor shall I tweet, unless I’ve got something interesting to tweet about, or retweet.
I’m not going completely cold turkey, or #goingdark in tweetspeak, but I do feel the need to rebalance everything and claw back some precious hours to write another book before I forget how to write anything that’s longer than 140 characters!
