Playing in the sandpit inside my skull

I've been on an extended writing break, chilling out and doing other things.

This is good for me, but I think I'm cool with making words again. I'm also not going to stress about any one particular project, or try and write stuff to suit other people. I know we're supposed to be, but then I start second-guessing myself on everything. It's better for me to just sit down and write without any goal in mind other than my own entertainment.

Plot and plan is overrated for me, I just end up feeling overwhelmed and like an utter faker who has no idea what he's doing.

I rather write things my way and then edit them eleventy-one times than sit and plot out stuff and shoe-horn some story into a series of post-it notes on the bedroom wall. Talk about killing my joy.

So yeah, I'm going to play around in 500 words a day, and see what beautiful messy worlds come out of it.

I'm also going to be heading off to my third year at Afrikaburn. Yay! I had to skip last year because of moving, so I'm going to go large this time.

And there's nothing quite like art to inspire art. It's this wonderful dialogue of ideas and fancies. Whether it's a poem or a sculpture or  a naked hula hooper in day glo paint, it's all good for the sparking of scenes inside my head.

And yeah, so here's the opening line of the newest project, called The Goat Girl:

Now this happened before the high-Lammers started cutting the horns off unicorns. Long before. And don't ask me how they got the fool notion anywise, because there's no answer to that better than, "they're a bunch of wankers."