Writing tends to interrupt real life at Timms Towers, rather than the other way around. I’ve often wondered how I’d get on with several clear uninterrupted hours to just do that writing thing, because the opportunity seldom arises.
Today just such an opportunity, well, arose. I took our little car to the garage for its annual service. A ‘big one’ according to the Customer Service Consultant. He smiled like a shark when he told me that.
Setting aside the concern provoked by such a comment I found myself an empty salespersons desk and fired up the laptop. There was no likelihood of me being mistaken for a Honda salesman; jeans, baseball cap, khaki fleece and eight day’s stealth beard made sure of that.
And boy, did I write. I made a hit list of tasks: kick off the re-worked treatment for Magick, push on with the first draft of Yummy Mummy, have another look at my notes for Help, I’m Dead to see how it’d work on stage.
I never got any further than the treatment for Magick. Four hours later (I told you it was a big service) I had a detailed, almost novelised account of the first episode of Magick, plus a whole bunch of characters and a pretty damn good idea what the whole story is actually about.
I really thought I’d work for 30, 40 minutes and then hit a wall. Didn’t happen. Not having internet connectivity made a big difference too. No email, no facebook, no diversions. And they had free Tassimo coffee on tap. Excellent. I recommend the car salesroom as a writer’s retreat to one and all.
Having a car to service at the same time is recommended but might not be essential if you can conjour up a smile. A shark-like one, maybe.
