Being Boring (or: what they pay me for)

It's 3pm on a Saturday afternoon and I'm taking a break from work for a few hours.

Writing fiction for a living is an odd occupation. Before you get around to hitting the keyboard, you spend a lot of time staring out of the window, playing Solitaire (well, not me: but it's the principle that counts), and daydreaming. This is, in actual fact, an essential part of the job — letting your introspection off the leash with the fruit of your imagination. If you don't get your random daydreaming time ...