I recently had a week off. Usually, my time off work happens during school holidays, trying to keep the kids entertained. But this time, the kids were at school. So I faced a shining week of freedom, like an entire field of untouched snow. Half of me rejoiced.

But the other half thought: how the hell do I spend this precious time?

I pictured the captain in the film Titanic, in the moment the water breaks the windows and surges into the room where he stands (possibly called the bridge but – as Dice Company listeners are aware – I know nothing about boats).

In my moment of liberation, a torrent of Useful Things To Do threatened to overwhelm me. Should I clean the house? Maybe I should answer all those emails? And what about that box of documents in the loft?

I guess most people experience this strange tension. Given time, we are torn. But between the boring-but-necessary tasks and scheduling precisely 17 minutes to “relax”, what is left for creative projects?

My forthcoming novel – in whatever century it is released – should begin with the words: this book was written and edited in small segments, after all the socks were put away.

Even though I care deeply about my various creative pursuits, some puritan instinct demands that I place “write the novel” somewhere between “rewrite the to-do list” and “take the sofa apart to hunt for Nerf bullets” in my hierarchy of priorities.

This is, of course, silly. We shouldn’t always prioritise the urgent over the important, so – this time – I didn’t. I spent my week doing enjoyable, relaxing and creative things. As a result, many unpaired socks now urgently await my attention. 

Comfort Fiction

What comfort can fiction offer on the tyranny of time?

Nothing sprang to mind, so I looked through a big book of quotes that I’ve spent many years collecting. I started this with no particular purpose in mind – but it turns out to be wonderfully useful when you need a monthly snippet of fiction for your newsletter.

In his lovely book The Humans, Matt Haig writes: “Make sure, as often as possible, you are doing something you’d be happy to die doing.”

Dicing with Death

Our thoughts have suddenly turned to Campaign Two of Dice Company. This is a bit premature, as we don’t yet know when and how our epic Small Embers story will conclude. Still, we’ve opened that box and now we can’t get all the demons back inside.

It’s about 50% exciting, 50% terrifying. As online-promoter-in-chief, I know a brilliant concept could massively boost listener numbers. But several people have pointed out that many shows with brilliant concepts burn out quickly – that brilliant idea quickly gets old, and stifles everything else.

I’ve experienced this with ideas for novels: I get a seemingly brilliant concept, I get excited about it, then – as I start planning – it somehow disintegrates.

So, we need a brilliant concept that will make EVERYONE listen – but the podcast must also be deep and satisfying for long-time listeners. If the perfect pitch comes to you in a dream, let me know.