I usually limber up to write with a game of Freecell. Today, this turned into several. It inspired a Facebook post. I moved to Twitter and sent five tweets in twenty minutes, 1% of my lifetime count. (Every author needs to build their platform.) Still unwilling to face my blank document, I turned to my email. Reading them with unusual diligence, I discovered an author I follow lives in Bournemouth. So I wrote to her to tell her we were a demographic.
You’d think with all that and this blog post done, I’d eventually have to get down to my novel, but I’ve only used up the writing-adjacent opportunities so far. I have a dog to walk, and a load of washing that will take me through lunchtime. I’m meeting with my business partner this afternoon. And the issue of how I develop my protagonist’s relationship with the ant-hero will be dodged until tomorrow.
Not writing a novel as you can see, can be as much of an art form as the thing itself. I shouldn’t boast, but I’m pretty good at it.