Friday is stretching in front of me and there are a variety of writing tasks to do. And it seems I’m not attracted to any of them. One is a re-write of the Intro to my PhD – that would be a good idea. Then there’s the next story for Midnight and Moonshine, the collaboration collection with Lisa Hannett – that would also be a good idea. Then there’s the next story for the Bitterwood Bible collection, The Badger Bride, which is lying around in enticingly scattered note form and really could do with a body. Then there are drive-bys to source and set up. Of course, there are also novel’ish items lying about the place, too, begging to be finished. Oh, okay, so demanding, loudly, to be finished.
But, then I’m tired and still getting over a stinking chest infection that knocked me about for the last fortnight … and I worked late last night teaching short story clinic at QWC – which is a delight, but intellectually exhausting and I find the day after class the last thing I want to do is right. It’s like a Clarion echo – the very idea of putting fingers to keys or pen to page creates this Pavlovian reaction. Not drooling but twitching and swearing and cringing.
So perhaps, it will be PhD re-write instead. It seems safer.