I don’t have a piano, otherwise I’d be chewing the keys.
I wanted to go outside and work on my brand-new book today, The Wind from Heaven–and it’s raining. Like, it’s always raining. So instead I tackled my Newswithviews column, hoping the rain would stop by the time I finished it: but I have, and it hasn’t.
Why not just put the computer out of the way and write indoors?
Because I can’t write fiction indoors. Haven’t done it for ten years, at least. The phone rings, this happens half a dozen times a day, and it’s either nobody at all or else a fatzing robot pretending to be human and trying to get money out of me. I just can’t do that kind of writing indoors anymore. I need the trees and the sky.
Well, find some other tasks to do…