2026oct07

Trying writing in the morning again (renewed effort at daily posts here being a measure of digital accountability for that practice): there's part of me that hasn't given up on the word-churn – in addition to my metalwork tinkerings and drumming return – my day, then, consisting of the the old (drums, mercifully free, after 25 years, of overthinking and the yips; the muscle memory remains: now to get my aging joints to make up for the 25 year absence); then the thing I spent almost 20 years doing (fighting with words to some avail - hey, I did earn out on that first book all those years ago and still get a restaurant meal on them because of it every six months), and then the new (playing with metal: far more pliable than words).

Part of the hope here is that it, this writing sliver, extends my day enough so that I don't run into the midday lull of creative exhaustion and, therefore, an enhanced propensity for self-loathing and generally being an ass: theory being that, if I do said sliver in the morning (an hour or so), then get to work on making my metal stuff, I'll go right up to the end of the day (1600 or so) without crashing and burning. This being the theory anyhow.

End goal of this particular practice is one or two short fictions a month, enough to keep me moving through ideas without making them precious or letting them lead me down paths to nowhere or drowning in the shallow end of the shit pool; this first day of it was a nice return.