Meh, so it's Tuesday... It's bizarre, it's surreal, it's Michael Parkes!
by Michael Parkes, 1989
Parkes's work is so strange, it stretches my imagination to its limits. How about yours?
About writing: Some days it just doesn't happen. The magic belongs to someone else, has slipped off next door or something. I simply could not wake up today, despite two cups of coffee. Couldn't make myself get on the exercise bike either. Typed in some revisions on the novel and stuck it out for many pages, so all is not lost. Now I'm baking a big fat lasagna and mean to veg on the couch tonight and recharge with a good movie. I hope.