There’s an elephant in the room. What elephant? Which room? This one.
When I’m on fire, I can write like a demon. A slow, somewhat cranky demon, sure, but a demon nonetheless. When I’m not so hot, all I want to do is watch Doctor Who, roll dice, and play Championship Manager. On their own, none of these are neccessarily bad things. But in my lower moments, these things act as a focus for distractive obsession.
In other words, rather than sort out what’s worrying me and making me feel low, I’ll go play as Worksop Town for several hours – usually until I fall asleep in front of the screen. Not good.
Here’s your elephant. Not much writing going on while he’s around.