I'm not up at 6 am. I start listening to the incoming news at 6 am. I'm not up until 7. By then I've heard the agricultural news, the news and financial news and listening to radio. Lying in bed relaxing. Quite busy after one has got up. There's quite a lot to put away from the night before, last night's papers to finish off, getting up and seeing what I have for the day. And just getting my thoughts in order for the day. I have very little breakfast. It tends to be a rather busy time because there's a rather lot going on.

I have two kids, so once we get them off to school, I tool around on email and Facebook longer than I should. Then I shut those things down and get to work.

Simple. I ran to school. There was no other way to get to it, so I, all of us, ran to school each day. We lived in the countryside and had to go to the town to school. And as it happens with school, you'd get late. It was not easy being on time when you have to run 10km every morning. To reach at 8 am, I would start at 6.30 am, and there would be a punishment waiting for you, or worse, they would ask you to get your parents to school.

Stay in your mental pyjamas all day. […] Work in the morning, a short break for lunch, work in the afternoon and then watch the six o’clock news and then go back to work until bed-time. Before bed, listen to Schubert, preferably some songs.

If you get stuck, get away from your desk. Take a walk, take a bath, go to sleep, make a pie, draw, listen to ­music, meditate, exercise; whatever you do, don’t just stick there scowling at the problem. But don’t make telephone calls or go to a party; if you do, other people’s words will pour in where your lost words should be. Open a gap for them, create a space. Be patient.

Read Becoming a Writer, by Dorothea Brande. Then do what it says, including the tasks you think are impossible. You will particularly hate the advice to write first thing in the morning, but if you can manage it, it might well be the best thing you ever do for yourself. This book is about becoming a writer from the inside out. Many later advice manuals derive from it. You don’t really need any others, though if you want to boost your confidence, “how to” books seldom do any harm.

Some writers claim to extrude a book at an even rate like toothpaste from a tube, or to build a story like a wall, so many feet per day. They sit at their desk and knock off their word quota, then frisk into their leisured evening, preening themselves. This is so alien to me that it might be another trade entirely.