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December 23, 2013 by musehick

Writing is bloody fun. I have been writing flash fiction for a couple of different collections, ones designed to float free of any real logical connection, but characters from disparate places keep popping up their heads above the parapet and waving at me and asking for me to listen to their tales.

Connections, whether obvious or tangential, suggest themselves, and I see rhymes and reason arising like leitmotifs in music. When you hit such a high level of intuition and work to perfect the ability to listen to the music of your work that whole cliché about it writing itself is true.

I don’t go through heaps of pain to write – I have always loved writing. The pain is always in the living – and I most definitely don’t go seeking after that. Writing is a celebration, and it is a great time for doing that, but the presents I have for everyone will be coming, just because I have to write them, a little later on. 2014 is going to have a very packed schedule


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