Something is emerging through the gloom. And it’s a surprise. I was expecting, looking for, words. In fact, it’s pictures. And now I remember. Writing involves pictures in my head. I don’t make up the sentences, I simply write about what I see in my head and what I feel about what I see. That’s what makes the writing part easy and that’s what’s been missing. I think it started when we went for a walk in the woods. Have you noticed how what you’re thinking about makes you not just see things differently, but see different things. Clearly my mood was dark because a scattering of red leaves among green looked like splashes of blood and the roots of trees seemed to reach out like coils of pythons. I remembered a story I started once. It involved a boy watching a couple out on a walk in the woods. He lurks in the darkness of the trees in the car park watching them argue. Of course something bad happens. The story came from that darkness and spooled into my head like a film. I didn’t look for a character and a motivation. I had to work those out based on what I saw. It wasn’t about finding the words that would sound good, but about finding the ones that would communicate what was in my head. Perhaps I should finish that story and see what other pictures come to take its place.