My writing mojo is cyclic, so I’m used to having days when new writing just doesn’t happen, I try to relax into it. I edit if I have something written. Otherwise, I go and potter in the garden or the greenhouse or read.

I could write a pretty convincing paragraph/story about a house burning down without my house having burnt down, or about being a lovesick lepidopterist, or a fish even though I am, as of yet, not a fish.

When my mojo is fried, I go and play wheelchair rugby league. I train twice a week with matches at weekends. Smashing the heck out of other people really clears the head. I also find that some of my best story ideas come when I’m swimming,

Once I cawed back at a crow in a pattern. The crow repeated the pattern. It was amazing, but I’ve never been able to replicate it. The crow probably spread the word to ignore me.

I also keep a running list of pieces I love that have appeared in various journals so I can re-read them whenever I want to be inspired.

I’ve never liked the prescription to “kill your darlings,” at least the way I think it’s often interpreted—to cut anything not ‘necessary’ out of your story and focus only on driving the plot forward. Many times, I find the oddball detours and vivid, unexpected images more interesting than the plot.

Let yourself be truly weird and weirdly truthful.

I’m much more of an editor than a writer, as anyone who has read my rambling, dreary first drafts will agree. And I find editing is a good use of time when your creative muscles are exhausted.

I’m much more of an editor than a writer, as anyone who has read my rambling, dreary first drafts will agree. And I find editing is a good use of time when your creative muscles are exhausted.