The Spoons That Are My Ears!

I've always imagined the writing world as a sort of rainforest. That statement isn't an ironic allusion to the noble trees that die to keep publishers and writers in business. I mean that projects can suddenly collapse with an almighty crash, bringing down certain hopes and aspirations, ultimately to make room for new growth. Recently several proposed anthologies that had solicited my stories were unexpectedly cancelled; at the same time I was asked to contribute to a brace of new anthologies. Everything is in a state of flux in this industry, which can be frustrating if you like to make precise long-term plans, but at least fresh opportunities always seem to arise.

It's better to go with the flow, of course, if you can bring yourself to trust the currents. I don't think I'm mixing my metaphors here, as those currents might belong to the river that twists through this rainforest imagery. The upshot of all this is that I'm writing some stories I hadn't expected to be writing now and my schedule for the year has altered slightly. As I generally have the good sense not to reveal my schedule, none of this matters a jot to anyone else.

As well as writing solicited stories for specific projects, I also (of course) write stories because they are in my mind and won't leave me alone until I get them down on paper. A few days ago I woke from a deep sleep with the title 'Is My Wife on Mars?' on my tongue. My first inclination was to refuse to write a story to go along with that title, but inevitably I capitulated. I always do. Disobeying the Muse might be perilous. I'm simultaneously writing a Philip José Farmer tribute story and I wonder if they will end up cross-fertilising each other?

The photograph that accompanies this tree-themed blog entry was taken by Adele a few weeks ago, and in fact adorns her own blog, which also features some of her paintings...