It was bound to happen.

Every author knows it is coming. The day that begins like any other Tuesday and ends with you catching a flying fridge as if it was a newborn being flung from a burning second storey window. It’s simply one of those days that come for us all, right?

Add having medical staff provide morphine strength painkillers before explaining the possible ramifications and you can understand how you might also lose some sensation in your fingers. Even if those fingers were holding your dinner. It is a bad sitcom moment, watching in slow motion as your beautiful, glorious, burger with the lot and BBQ sauce begins the slow slide from your hands. Cardboard cocoon meant to protect it bursting open as it hits the middle of the road, beetroot and patty, sunny side up egg and wilting lettuce, shaggy heap of fried onion, all splaying out around your feet. A distant car is approaching, your surroundings a blur of motion simultaneously too fast and yet too slow. Tears are welling in your eyes. You haven’t cried since watching The Lion King when you were five. Somewhere far away a car horn is sounding. Vaguely you realise it’s less than a metre from you.

And you were so hungry.

Yes. Every writer knows these days. The days that provide legitimate reasons why your word count plateaued. It’s okay. We’re all perfectly flawed humans with squishy bodies that sometimes fail. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Focus on one thing. Not getting better, no, that’s a fool’s game. Don’t even focus on the incredible, wonderful, empathetic staff at the food store who made you a fresh burger at no charge. (Okay, maybe focus on them a little bit. Alright, a lot <3 )

Focus on the most important factor;

Does it make a good story?