There is a quiet assumption that if a writer is not publishing, they are not writing. That an empty page must reflect an empty mind—or worse, a lack of discipline.
I live between two worlds: one where my recommendations are followed and my advice is considered and another in the unruly company of my characters. One demands predictability—a deliverable, a forecast, a measurable outcome. The other asks only that I remain still long enough to listen.
It is a strange thing to spend the day...
There is a world that consists of grids and spreadsheets; curves, commandments, formats and formulas. That world is utterly governed by sales graphs and review counts. It is a world whose fundamental endeavour is to reduce the depths of the human condition to a configuration that will translate directly into a revenue number on an income statement.
Should they be judged for this? I say no. They have families to feed, costs to amortise and shareholders to keep happy. It is simply the way of...