I’ve been getting up in the morning and battering into dreich noir these last few days. It doesn’t matter what I’m working on, getting up first thing and starting to write before I’m properly awake.

One foot in the daylife and the other still dangling somewhere in the surrealist realms – it’s a cracking headspace to be writing in! The prose seems to flow out of me like pish from an unconscious jakey.

I’ve been doing this for quite a few months now. Back in the day, I used to write at night. I’d read that Bukowski could only write after the sun went down and only to orchestral music on the radio. (i think I read this in ‘Women’, but don’t hold me to that. I could’ve told you, were it still 1995, I assure you!)

Living in Los Angeles, I’m pretty sure ol’ chuck would’ve had commercial radio soundtracking his nocturnal typing. Living in Edinburgh, about a year after his death, I tuned in classic FM and hammered away at my first PC, an old XT – 640k of ram, MS-DOS and Word Perfect 5.1.

In actual fact though, the human organism is generally in better nick at nine in the morning than it is at midnight. The same dose of amphetamines that’ll kill you at midnight, you’ll survive first thing in the morning.

(PRO TIP: write all day, do any drugs you need to do at night – more bang for your buck.)

So nowadays, I get up with the light and start typing before I’m fully awake. It’s a creative period, with loads of mistakes and god-leaks that flood into my work.

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