I have decided that the hardest part of writing is starting. Sitting down and actually coming up with the initial idea. What happens after that is simple – usually, after 2 or three hours you have one to two thousand words of story, and after a few edits it’s done. It’s getting that first idea that is hard.

Today, the ideas just weren’t flowing, as they hadn’t all weekend. I don’t know why: I was happy comfortable. Usually I get ideas just like that, but today the well was dry. I was beginning t wonder whether this was the dreaded writers block I had heard of. We were sitting in the library, between lessons: libraries usually inspire me, but not today.

Esther could see I was getting worried, so she sat me down, and began a mindmap. I usually think those are new age hippy bunkum, and didn’t bother when dad suggested I did one yesterday, but then, like a candle suddenly igniting in the dark, an idea hit me. Then another, embellishing on the first. And another. I began to write the story that I plan to finish tonight. The hippy mindmap had worked. Sorry dad