My friend Greg wrote this piece about every writer’s dream: to get paid to stay at The Savoy Hotel in London and just…write! And drink tea. And eat. And lie in bed. And…write…and lie in bed…and drink coffee…and eat dainty tea sandwiches…and lie in bed…

“LONDON — How’s this for a job description: Michael Morpurgo wakes up daily in a luxurious hotel suite, takes in the view of the River Thames, has a sumptuous breakfast in the dining room downstairs, then goes up to his suite and climbs back into bed.

He doesn’t go back to sleep, of course. Propped up by overstuffed pillows, reclining on whisper soft, high-thread-count cotton sheets, he takes out a pad and writes longhand, scratching out novels in tortured penmanship only his wife Clare can grasp…” continued

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