we got help from a baby-sleep consultant, and once this heroine had got us all sleeping, I started getting up early to write.
It was winter. I was expecting to hate the cold, dark mornings, but I fell in love with them. It was the only time of day when things were quiet and still.
I’d open the curtains a crack to look at the stars, glimpsing out every now and then as I wrote, watching the dawn creep softly through the trees.
It was as if I was part of the morning, not just someone rushing through.Six years on, winter is still my favourite time. Summer mornings are too loud and bright, the birds and roads too noisy.
Read more on telegraph.co.uk