Being a writer can mean many, many different things. Sometimes, it means hours spent alone, dragging reluctant words from the depths of a troubled mind, forcing ink onto the blank page, one uncooperative phrase after another. Other times, it means acting as ringmaster to a cacophony of uncontrollable characters who fly across the pages with minds of their own, wilfully disregarding your own intentions for them. On occasion it seems almost impossible to stem the flow of pulsing purple prose from your fingertips as hours race by unnoticed, strings of sentences clicking into perfect place like links of literary gold chains.
Other times a writer’s lot will be that of a researcher, chasing down facts to support the inspiration, carefully noting the things that will never make it to the page but must be understood, nonetheless. Writers are the mothers of their works, yet must also be the butchers of the same – and be brave enough to wield the editor’s sabre, even to the most loved of their compositions.
There are times when to be a writer means to be one swathed in rejection and broken dreams, yet still find it within them to take up the pen once more, in spite of the negative tides that cast them time and time again against the rocky shores of disappointment.
But sometimes – on a damp and drizzly Monday in Cambridge, say – being a writer means sitting around in your pants, nursing the remnants of a head cold and watching re-runs of The Sweeney. Because life’s funny like that.
* Top quality line from the endlessly quotable Jack Regan, from The Sweeney
Lucy Brazier 
But have you had that mole checked? Sorry… but I crack me up.
Ha! Actually, I have all my moles checked every six months. I’ve had a couple of nasty ones in the past. Fun fact – I had a malignant mole removed from my right bum cheek several years ago. The stitches split before it had healed and I now have a Harry Potter-style scar on my bottom.
Oh man, I had one removed from right… uh… between my legs… I mean, not on anything important, just right in that crevice where everything meets… and the stitches split while I was camping in Yosemite… I might have a scar… but I can’t see it.
I could have a look for you.
We could compare scars… and moles…
That it a very good idea. For educational purposes, obviously.
And medical reasons… have to monitor those moles for any changes.
Oh yes. These are important things.
And who needs real doctors for this?
Yeah! What do they know? This is much more fun. And, er, scientific.
Very scientific… and medical.
It is a procedure, really.
An essential one at that.
One must monitor one’s health… but no reason to do it alone.
This…all this is what I miss when I take time away; mutual crack mole checking updates.
Feel free to join in. A second opinion is always welcome.
My skin is blemish free and smooth as a freshly dipped seal, so my knowledge of such things is limited; I shall be there purely for gratuitous reasons.
Fair enough. Medical science can still benefit, I’m sure.
I’m a dab hand with that google though; so if you need owt checking I can do that.
Marvellous! You bring excellent talents to our research team. I shall prepare my moles at once.
And I’ll polish the tweezers and buff my magnifying glass!
Huzzah!
You snooze you lose!
vowww..really
🙂