Some days writing isn’t the way to get traction on the world. & when you write fantasy the world can’t get traction on your work. So the things the “mainstream” writer gets free, you rarely get at all. What’s next ? Watch half a film. Ring someone up, ask them about their dreams. Make your life as patchy a discourse as possible. Yesterday morning I watched a heron eating a live eel on the mudbank by the south pier of Hammersmith bridge. Today it was foggy; the mudbank was almost awash. The heron was still waiting there. I fear the river in all its moods & hate low tide as much as I hate partly-foundered ships.