A new academic year is starting tomorrow and for some unclear reason I am feeling thrilled. Obviously, what is getting my blood pumping is not the prospect of teaching per se – that can be amazing, obviously, but after a few years it becomes too familiar a feeling to be a source of excitement – but rather the necessary structure and discipline it demands. I figured out, over the years, that summer may not be the most productive time of the year for me, writing-wise. I certainly have much more time in my hands than during teaching terms, but I also realised that open-ended mornings and afternoons make for fantastic reading slots – not so much for writing. Teaching brings with itself a schedule, non-negotiable commitments, and a sense of urgency: if I want to write until my class at 3 pm, I must get to it as soon as possible, which means that I have to deal with emails, administration and other less-than-interesting tasks quickly so that I have that coveted couple of hours to write. The ...