Swift of the Wrist

What does it take to write well?

Relaxing.

In a busy, open-plan office, I've always struggled.

The boon of an effective writer is the headphone. Attuned to his iPhone, playing music with no lyrics, though choral chants work.

Why? Well, the writer needs to be distraction free. Ironically, music provides this, but the sound of other voices than his own lead him off the woven path.

(A moment on 'the woven path'.

I've always felt in constructing my copy that I wasn't simply pressing sentences together, per se, but weaving tapestry. I believe most good writers would agree that we hate to be distracted by 'URGENT!' titled emails while we smith away.

Nothing is more cumbersome than bullshit emergencies by clients poor at planning their timelines.)

The open-plan office is a bane to focus, an enemy to perfect prose.

Not that writers often get a choice. Hence the headgear. The tunes, the ability to block out the irreverent chitter-chatter, and get carried away with song.

When we weave, our keyboards become looms, our feet on peddles that spin the yarn, our fingers wicking the strands into thoughts.

It's not unlike the focus performed by master swordsmen who swish and sway their blades in perfect harmony with their bodies.

A true writer enters a state of zen.

That's when we deliver you works that pierce your target market's scepticism.

We can sell commercially, ironically, by being artists of our craft.