Well, write something. Go on. You’ve got nothing else to do. A soundtrack of puppy snores and rain. But there’s a problem. The ideas have fled with the sunshine. Where there used to be jostling dozens muttering at me, there is bleached rock and silence. Maybe a cup of tea would help… Or an actual […]
Writing: seeking satisfaction
Previously, I’d imagined Writer’s block was an empty loft. Nothing there but pigeon shit and echoes It’s not though. It is stuffed, rammed, jammed and bloody well bunged up. Like a colon after Christmas. Too much feasting on the fabulous Bingeing. Masticating and swallowing. Until All at once Immobile, There’s belly ache and belching. […]
