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I came back home from the USA with a spring in my step, ready to restart my writing career and continue with my fitness regime. I should have just laid on the lounge and waited for the feelings to pass.

While I was in Nashville and Cincinnati, I was going to the gym every day, trying to counteract both the American diet and the American sized pourings at the bar. I planned to continue this by joining one of those 24/7 gym chains when I got home. I chose one particular gym because it was a two minute walk from my house. I know myself.

I arrived home in Australia and that very same day, the roof of said gym caved in. I mean, not just a couple of tiles. All the tiles falling through the ceiling and landing on top of the gym equipment. Not ideal.

The gym sans roof (see I still speak French)

Part two of my plan was to set up more of a routine for my writing. I’ve really enjoyed writing this blog. (Thank you to my three readers who I think are all related to me.) So I decided to focus my fiction writing on funnier crime novels. I mean, who doesn’t like funny crimes? In any case, this decision required me to actually write on a regular basis. Before I left to go on my latest trip, I had set up an outdoor office, on the deck of the main house, overlooking my tiny house. I even had a heater for cold weather.

So my plan was, after joining the very close-by gym, I would be sitting outside, writing for hours each day.

On Days 1 and 2 the men in white suits turned up to demolish parts of the neighbouring house and remove asbestos. Did I mention plumes of suspicious looking dust? Day 3, it was jack hammering from 7.30am. When they weren’t jack hammering they were smoking. After a week, I thought it was over, but then the new neighbours decided to have day-long bonfires to burn off the old garden waste. To cap it all off, they (or to be fair it could have been different neighbours) chose to put fertiliser on the garden. The stink was unbelievable. No outdoor office for me. Ever.

These people, let’s call them the Thwarters, were really taking the thwarting to a new level.

But two can play this game. I realised that now I’m a big girl, I can leave my house whenever I want to. So I did what all good writers do. Go on a trip and call it research. And low and behold, here I am, writing something. Take that, Thwarters!

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