On Monday 13th July, I am off up to Yorkshire, my homeland. I’m feeling both nervous, and rather optimistic. I will stay at Lumb Bank with the Arvon Foundation, not for the first time so at least  I know the ropes.

This time it’s the course itself that really stirs my trepidation. If it’s to do me any good, I have to engage with it – and those ‘demons’.Readers of last week’s post will know that my Dark Twin and I could do with beating off a few demons. If you haven’t – do look at the kind, wise and helpful comments my writer friends have left. Also – my piece about Lu Hersey’s   deep water is up on Serendipity Reviews.

The Art of Beating Demons – how appealing does that sound? I could really do with Chris Riddell to illustrate this, but you’ll have to manage with the images I have found. To paraphrase the New Testament, their name is Legion ‘cos there’s lots of the beggars.

Their main burrow I shall call Distractemonium. Squillions of little imps infest my computer from that maze of tunnels. They’re very good at pretending to be helpful Researchius elves, or hiding behind the Robes of Useful Advice. They lure me further and further along the road of Good Intentions towards the Hellmouth of Wasted Time.

This route is made by the Demon Selfdestructibus. It listens very carefully every time I promise myself I won’t go on Twitter or Facebook, check my emails or give Pinterest a look. It is rather skilled at subverting those vows.

Closely related is the Evil Chairgluer. This sticky little blighter ensures I stay put. Ostensibly I am pursuing my writing – but the Chairgluer slows down every burst of energy. It despises fresh air and exercise, and shuns real human contact.

If need be, it will call on its superior Fallen Angel, Autoloathatron. He is a biggie. He drags round a dry stone wall for my head. His skill is to recite every single negative word that anyone has ever said or written about me.

There’s always The Whisperer if they need reinforcements. She is skilled at convincing me that Autolothatron is only speaking the Truth, that anything good said to me is just people being ‘nice’ – or cynical ways to get me to spend money on books and courses. She is particularly insistent – changing her point each time I find a counterargument to it.

You can see, then, that I need a mental clear out, a purge of the fiends . I will admit there are a pair of goblins I’m quite fond of, though. They lurk in the kitchen, waiting to ambush me when I put the washing on. I’d be sad to lose big old Need-a-Cup-of-Tea and his ally, Have-a-Slice-of-Cake.

Which monsters would you send packing?