You have days, you know. Weeks even, where your output is approximately zero.
You blame it on: no time, no internet, too much sun, not enough air-con, Christmas parties, moving house (again!), catching up with old friends, drinking too much beer, have you ever noticed that this chair is just the wrong height?
You procrastinate. You clean the floors. You clean the windows. You dust the top of the shelves. You bake.
But really – you just couldn’t be arsed. Don’t want to open Word or Scrivener or Pages. Don’t want to stare at that dreadful, mutilated, unfinished, hybrid, pus-spewing, disgusting manuscript.
And you delay.
You start again.
Today, after a hiatus, I sent off 4 stories to various magazines.