Why I write …I write to clear my head. I write because I have to. I write because, while I’m making food, I have ideas escaping from my mind.

While I stare at dirty dishes which boldly say – “Wash me! Wash me now!” I have half made sentences in my brain which I know I need to write down.

In my mind, in my brain (oh our brains! What a pretty word) there is this alluring kind of thing happening.

My brain whispers, “Write down this sentence.”
Or, “Scribble down that idea quick smart.”
“Yes, that’s it. Write it fast and frantically on the back of a receipt for two carrots and a packet of a chips using a half blunt pencil because that’s all your can find.
Meanwhile my mind OR brain – whichever cheeky one it is! – is slyly assuring me: “EUREKA! That’s it. That’s the best idea to expand upon. Downsize your house and spend seven months researching and

writing that idea.”
Or, ‘Stop doing something productive and write a short story about a miniature cat who dreams of meeting Thumbelina.”
And such things, does my mind or brain (whichever you prefer, dear stylistic reader) pour out, harass me constantly with.

My brain is like a 8 week old puppy dog which jumps and bounds and leaps and knocks things over and just wants attention:
I have ideas and they need to come out.

If I don’t let them out – don’t scribble them down in a notebook, don’t sit and write, don’t talk about writing, don’t do anything with it – the ideas are still there but, like a kid tapping on his mum’s shoulder when he really wants an ice-cream, like really!, it just gets worse.

So I write because I have to. I have to let the crazy ideas out or I’ll go crazy!