Jen has stayed up late, turning Thursday night into Friday morning, counting the last contest entries, putting them in spreadsheets so all three editors can read them blind. It’s been a good day for stories. Then Mel shows up, her emails say three am our time but it’s nearly noon in England. She uploads a new drawing as well as illustrations for a colouring book idea we’re discussing. She’s a workhorse, that woman. Jen’s up again by the time Sue checks her emails, and Jen has shared a new back cover idea for Issue 9, which we’d discussed at our Tuesday meeting. There’s a nice message from Patreon, we have a new patron. Sue checks traffic and then drives to Jen’s. With a cup of tea, cheese, fruits and chocolate, and after skype is sensibly sorted, we three writers forget about the magazine for a full hour, pooling creative energies to write some fresh first draft.
And that’s what happens on Fridays mornings. We stop twitter, Facebook, blogs, contests, emails. We take time to write. And suddenly nothing else is quite as important, nothing else will overwhelm or dominate our lives with the same force, because we’ve stuck together and taken time to obey the Muse. To breathe. To remember why we’re really here before carrying on with our day, and our week, and our magazine.
It’s all good work. But I love Fridays.