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I haven’t yet found the courage to brave the Edinburgh Fringe Festival (except as a punter) so I’ve come to accept August is a quiet time in my calendar. Outside of writing, the freelance work is tied up with schools or projects in the community, but with many people on holiday this month my schedule looks decidedly bare. Initially I was terrified. Three-to-four whole blank weeks is not just staring into the void, it’s vomiting myself into it every morning the diary is checked. I will never work again becomes the hit internal monologue – the summer’s most requested track.

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