I’m not a writer. I marvel at writing. I am sometimes absolutely astounded when I read something and I think how in the world did that man or that woman sit down at a typewriter, a computer or a pen and an ink well, and seemingly have nothing come between their heart and that pen.
— Kevin Spacey
When I’m not writing I’m doing boring stuff around the house. Clothes don’t launder themselves and dust doesn’t obediently vanish into some other dimension.
When I’m not writing I’m trying to keep on track with my new eat better, move more plan.
When I’m not writing I’m thinking about what I would do if (or indeed when) the zombie apocalypse finally hits. What weapons to procure, where to hole up, do I go it alone or am I more of a group person?
When I’m not writing I’m watching some kind of documentary. I’ve been on a Mafia kick lately as I find that whole world and the players in it fascinating though I hope that doesn’t point to some kind of personality deficiency on my part.
When I’m not writing I’m losing untold hours browsing about on the internet. While I may start off my day searching for the best chocolate cake recipe I somehow end up, hours later, reading up on the mating habits of the Argentine lake duck.
When I’m not writing I’m gaming and losing myself in a whole other world where I can be the assassin, the gunslinger, the gangster, or the vigilante.
When I’m not writing I’m reading although I don’t seem to make enough time for it.
When I’m not writing I’m making mental notes of what I at some point may write about.