
Tim Byrd
I’m thinking about writing today.
Not that that’s anything unusual. I think about writing all the time. I think about writing a hell of a lot more than I actually write, which is a big part of the reason there’s not more cool Tim books in the world for you to enjoy, and for me to make grocery money from.
Today, though, I’m engaging in the sort of thinking about writing which is about how best to approach the work, as opposed to what the work should be. Thinking about how to actually organize my self and my space and my time to attain some level of regular productivity, so I can more reliably share the tales I want so much to tell.
I’ve written here a few times about my attempts at getting on a daily schedule, writing so many words a day, every day, and keeping at it. One enormous complication is my depression, which wears huge fucking cleated boots it uses to regularly stomp me into the floor and crush whatever dreams I’m currently dreaming. I’ve written about my struggles with it a few times, so if you’re curious, just click on the appropriate “Depression” category in the sidebar to find those posts.
Today, we’re gonna go with the assumption that I will overcome that hobnailed monster, and focus on what I need to do to best accomplish the work. Continue reading





















This morning, I remembered Otter and figured I’d pop into the game and kill some things with her. (The shot above I found on my computer, taken long ago).


