I’m actually writing two pieces concurrently at the moment. They are not related, and they don’t overlap thematically except in broad terms and themes; as noted previously, it’s hard for me to write a strictly happy story. The mystery of why remains such, and I’m not going to investigate it too much. So how does writing two things at once help me keep my drive?
To write an answer to this question, I began in the same way I do before starting most ventures; slumping in my chair, looking at my desk in an unfocused, slightly sightless fashion and breathing slow enough that I could well be hibernating. At least, that’s the physical manifestation of me being deep in thought. Not a compelling image, and certainly not sculpture worthy beyond the real of satire. I’ve been told I look faintly depressed, but this is not the case. The cogs are whirring, and rarely have any dust to shed before they work properly now that I’m doing this writing schtick full time.