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In an effort to regenerate the atrophied writing muscles, I’ve been attempting to instigate a routine. Evenings are when I write. I do attempt it at the weekends, but it doesn’t always work – my brain is often on standby and only clicks on the night before the work week recommences.

Amongst various things, I’ve started recording my dreams again (well, actually recording them would be awesome if a little scary… okay, very scary and I’d be locked up in dark, dark place…). Trying to access that area of the subconscious which has been such a rich mine of imagery and ideas. And with a dream journal of about 200 dreams going back to 1989, it would seem a good project to continue. And the process of continually accessing the dream memory makes the ensuing dreams more vivid, and increases the occurrence of lucid dreaming – all of which leads towards a potentially BIG writing project I’ve been scheming over for years now – codenamed The Circles. some *actual words* exist for it, and a slowly developing plot and pool of characters. Heck, I even nailed a decent structure for it. Just need to sort the role of the elusive Piano Jim and things will fall into place.

Other aspects of the evening routine involve at least one review/crit of a fellow writer’s work (and I’m never short of contenders with a review list that grows and grows…) and some revision of the box of un-submitted shorts. I’ve decided to work backwards on that one – beginning with my most recently written piece “Unpicking the Stitches” and end up back at the oldest ones. Should have a working middle draft for ‘Stitches’ in a couple of days.

No room for new fiction yet, but the ideas are rising up like the tips of the snowdrops I saw on the way to work this morning. One SF idea without a solid title, but with extensive notes; “Blank Canvas”, the living artwork story inspired by Tommy McHugh; “Circles” and the bones of another novel idea.

Reading “Transition” by Iain Banks at the moment, with Interzone 232 waiting in the wings, afterarriving on my doormat today.