I write. Urban and other-world fantasy. Intensely - obsessively, in fact, when I'm not going through one of my depressive episodes.

I might spend a week scribbling down a hundred pages longhand to experiment with an idea, and have an incredible creative high while I do, and then abandon it without hesitation if I can't see any potential in it.

I might choose one to spend more time on some, which you can find here as I complete them.

Or I might write about something in my world, the one that was never intended to get into print, the one where I write hundreds of thousands of words just for the entertainment of myself and a couple of other people, or to toy with a new concept and look at it from different angles, or keep my skills active when I have nothing more "serious" I feel like working on.

Luckily, Sean being the artistic type, he understands and doesn't get jealous
about the amount of time I spend writing.

When I feel creative and I'm not writing for some reason, I do have the adult version of paint-by-numbers (I can't draw, frankly, but I love playing with
colours, and had never really tried paints before Sean suggested it), or indulge in a bit of web design, or mess around with my very primitive home-made frame loom, or work on my in-progress personal set of "Tarot" cards, or play with yarn and beads and embroidery thread and whatever else comes to hand.