Drunk. Sober. Write? Wrong.

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Started at five. Moved onto six. Broke through the seven. Now dancing past eight. My night owl is soaring at the moment. Sleeping times are on their head. Night is now day. At least the book is being churned out. Churn on. Cave-like lifestyle. Living in and running around my head. Which I’ve realised has resulted in me sporadically zipping between two different kind of moods. Frustrated. Pumped. At times annoyed. Other times delighted. Over and over. Finally the penny dropped. Depending on the event or story or whatever I’m re-writing about, that emotion builds up and kicks in, inside my head. Which makes writing any good story a great laugh to do. And makes me highly frustrated after writing a frustrating story. Strangely, I am now living vicariously, through, my, self? Continue Reading »

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Is That A Puddle? No, Befuddle

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Won’t lie. Writing a book. Is. Tough. Kind of like studying. And at the same dumb time, kind of not at all. Kind of like it as in my hours are now completely all over the shop. 6 in the morn appears to be my new time to go to bed. Which is fine. Body is all out of synch during the day though. Whatever part of the day I manage to see. Close enough to getting to where I might never have to bother opening the curtains. Not even too sure what day it is either. Just whether it’s day or night. Another issue I have, my need to justify everything? Why I do it, I do not know. Needs to be culled from the book as well. Cut off that flab! Continue Reading »

All In… You Too Cat!

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Have you ever decided to do something, then at the very last second changed your mind? Dumb enough question, obviously you have. Might’ve been something big. More than likely something small. Well, I just had a change of mind about something pretty small and pointless. A cup of tea. Filled the kettle. Watched it for five minutes. Not true by the way. It did boil. Cup. Tea-bag. Spoon. All ready. Picked up the kettle. About to pour into the cup. Last second I defaulted. Change of heart. Mind. Both. Saved the tea-bag. Poured some water on the counter instead. It was literally that last of a second change. And the reason being, a bit of sense kicked in. I need sleep, not tea. No such thing as a quick cup. Better off going to bed. Wrecked. Sleep on. Tea off. Continue Reading »