Recursive Words

Welcome to the inaugural meeting of the “Midnight Writing Club”. Unfortunately we only have one member at the moment – me – so I’ll be acting as chair-person, taking the minutes, making the coffee, and putting the cake on plates that I brought with me.

Of course I jest.

Or do I?

Perhaps this should be a thing – a gathering of writers in the dead of night to hang out together – perhaps just co-existing in a chat room with one-another while writing a few pages – be it for a blog, a book, or whatever. We could have our own Discord server – shrouded in mystery as all good secret societies should be. Invitation only.

It’s something to think about, isn’t it.

Who’s interested?

Anyway.

I’ve just checked my work calendar – it looks miraculously empty tomorrow – there’s a distinct lack of meetings. For the first time in months I’m considering an escape attempt – a few hours at a local café or pub – listening to podcasts while tapping away at my laptop. A change of scenery – a reminder that a world still exists outside of these four walls.

Wish me luck.