Although the sun is shining and the birds are singing on this
cold winter day, I’m still feeling the blues. Perhaps it is because the mundane
chores of life become more pronounced when your fingers are numb. So, therein,
lies melancholy.

To be manic, as it is Monday, is substantially harder to do with
a frost. Yet it has become the perfect environment for writing. Rewriting to be
exact, I’m still going, even though I thought I may not, and I’m halfway in and
enjoying the process. Is it better? Probably in patches but I’m practicing which
I hope counts for something.
 
This has me thinking of it being like a muscle. I’ve heard it
said that you should write every day to keep it toned, but I find this concept
hard to follow because when I force it, its bollocks and I feel dejected and
ditch the project. So do I need to stretch it? I think I should push myself more
often and work at it. Although I wonder whether it is more about style and less
about execution but that is a discussion that I tend to avoid. I sit on the
fence there. 

Still the question remains, should we use the muscle before it
withers away and the ability to use it is lost forever. I don’t know. I go long
periods where I don’t write anything but an occasional blog post or review. Then
I could feel charged and away I go again doing it all at once. Today became one
of those days.

So manically I rewrite a few chapters and feel good about the
exercise... if only I didn’t really have to read it AGAIN! This is probably why
I jump around works like the energiser bunny...