This week, I wanted to show off my battle station.

Because that is what it is, a cathartic alter at which to wrestle the demons onto the page, and call it work. Let’s take a look!

Here under the monitor is the skull of the first draft of my manuscript, picked clean by hindsight. Also on the monitor stand is Cedric Diggory.

Hogwarts and Star Wars posters stare down at me to remind me that, respectively, an unknown author in a cafe could find an audience for her stories, and to remember that you need people to say “no” to your bad ideas, or you end up making The Phantom Menace.

In the dock is my (t)rusty MacBook Pro 13″, on constant life support since its charging chip gasped its last. I pounded out 117,000 words into the first draft on that keyboard, now I’m on a wired magic keyboard (pictured) or a trusty MacBook Air 11″ when I’m out and about and soaking up free air conditioning.

The beer (next to Mr Grins there) is Great Northern, from a brewery first established in Cairns (much like myself), and is also a great assistant in my writing. I find that I write best at exactly 2.5 drinks, no more and no less. Staying at that exact blood alcohol level can be tricky, and sometimes I wake up having pounded out 1500 words, and then settle down with a Sunday Morning coffee to decide how many of the last 500 words have to go in the bin.
It was actually a note I found one seedy Sunday morning that I discovered I thought of – and started – Feast with zero recollection. Just put down a page about a mysterious stranger blowing into town, googled extensively to make sure I hadn’t stolen it from anywhere, then dove right on in. I’ll have more about that next week.

I promise I’ll have more real progress updates then as well.

Have fun, y’all. Stay safe.