When I'm tiddling about, needing to take a short break from writing...all right, maybe not that short, more of a middling break, and not being the kind of person who can lie back on the chaise longue eating grapes and walnut whips and berating the butler, I usually read a book. I mean, all those words I write (and it's been about seventeen thousand this week, but I've been on holiday from the day job, which explains it) need to come from somewhere, so, after I have poured a number down on paper, I need to refill.
I've read two and a half books this week, whilst refilling. The half was one that I'd already started, not one that had been torn in two by a muscular man with a point to prove, by the way. I don't do muscular men. Well, yes, some muscles, obviously, otherwise they wouldn't be men, they'd be jellyfish with beards, but not those ridiculous 'bulging thew' types. What is a thew, anyway? It's not the same as a codpiece, is it?
|Never knew what all the fuss was about. I've got an ENORMOUS cod piece in the freezer.|
Where was I? Ah, yes. When I'd finished reading, I still felt as though I had a little bit of procrastination to be getting on with, so I decided to make a cake, and, in the process, discovered that being creative in the cake-making direction completely took away my desire to be creative with words...
Further experimentation proved that knitting works the same way, as would sewing, possibly, but I shall never find out because I only sew under extreme duress, ie the buttons have fallen off my favourite trouser or something. But I was astonished to discover this! The desire to write can be completely dispersed by the application of wool, or buttercream and some little icing star-things, or even just a very good recipe book!
Of course, like a good little scientist I had to test my theory. I now have a cupboard full of cake and absolutely NO desire to finish my WIP.... which is a bit of a problem because my publisher awaits the completion of the WIP, and absolutely NO-ONE wants four hundred stale lemon buns and a wonky fruit cake. Perhaps when I've eaten them all I shall have my writing mojo back? Or just a bottom so large that I physically cannot leave the house.
I shall present my findings in an appropriately scholarly manner in due course. But first I have to test my codpiece theory...