The writer at work? Most likely he's simply staring at a blank screen and wondering how he can possibly mar the appearance of that pristine whiteness with words that he knows will never quite say what he wants to say. Actually the picture is somewhat, misleading... I was editing a series of photographs I'd taken as part of the course, another useful skill for the writer to master.

As far as the novel goes the first 60 pages were submitted on time, and even now are probably being torn to shreds by the editor. That's fine, after all it's what first drafts all about isn't it? To be ripped to shreds and scattered to the four quarters of the planet by the winds of history.

Again, I think that's what this course is about. I've probably said it a dozen times already, but the way I see it is that the course demands the impossible of you and stands back to see how you react. There was panic a plenty in that last couple of weeks I can tell you, writers seeking high buildings or tall granite cliffs - (plenty of them in Cornwall) - from the top of which they could hurl themselves and their manuscripts. And yet when the deadline arrived, all five manuscripts were sitting on the table.

Tuesday evening I'm heading for the Falmouth Townhouse and 'Telltales' 19:00 - http://wordslikepictures.com/telltales/ to read an extract from the opening chapter of my novel. Yes the one I haven't been able to look at since last Tuesday... Ah well, isn't that the reason I came to Falmouth? To learn how to be a successful writer. Come along and listen, make your own mind up.