It's slightly overdue, I'm afraid, but it has been a hard year in many ways. No need for details but the year of full-time writing was almost wiped out. A sea of unavoidable tasks and problems surged up sinking the boat and leaving writer and writing to battle the surf, gulping air whenever they made it to the surface then disappearing under the waves again for longer than you would imagine them surviving.
But survive we did. We might be lying shivering on the sand just now but the storm has eased, the sun has come out and we are ready to move on.
So what has been achieved this year? I have re-edited my novel and have about a quarter to a third of the sequel at first draft stage. I have taught workshops - some under more difficult conditions than others - and given talks. Most importantly I have kept writing. Nowhere near as much as I would have liked to have done but that doesn't matter. I have kept on. Now I'm going to dry myself off and roll up my sleeves, soggy though they are. The boat has washed up beside me and, once I've bailed it out, it's back into the water and straight out towards the gap in the reef and the open sea.
This year will be the best ever.