Every few weeks, I slip the shackles of client work. I open a bottle, hitch up the keyboard and write. No brief. No deadline. No-one to critique or amend. I just write for the sheer bloody joy of it. It’s my tunnel under the wire and out to sanity. Funny thing is, since I started scribbling just for the hell of it, my other writing has somehow got more concentrated, tighter.  Perhaps it’s a little like going for a run just for fun, rather than to beat times.  You get quicker anyway, simply because of the action of running.  I wonder.  Mark McArthur-Christie

Inspirations: Sunday, 18.12.2011