Sometimes, just some times, an idea needs to percolate. To brew and unfurl. Imagination has to swirl around and go through a lot of hypothesis testing.

Which is a bit odd, when fiction is meant to be made up but has to be realistic. I suppose that means sticking to tropes and genre characteristics. Sticking to norms and conventions that make a genre what it is.

However, there is change and evolution in writing. No one might blink at the notion of Romantasy. A combination of romance and fantasy, this has seen skyrocketing interest. Of course, there harbingers of romance and there are harbingers of fantasy. I guess we all need to read more and read that which we like.

Anyway, percolation of ideas. The brewing whereby anything goes, and we as readers and writers are open to it.

I’m not all that good at staying in genre-driven lanes. I tend to pick and mix quite a bit. I mean, zombies and dragons come to Birmingham in one part of book catalogue. There’s flash fiction, Greek mythology. Even historical fiction if go find Lady Eleanor and her son, James.

Over the last few years, much of my creative thinking has come when I’ve been knitting. Knitting socks, more specifically.

Knitting and also crochet have been seen to have a profound impact. There’s a growing body of research out there that indicates significant impact upon well being. I feel I can attest to that, having knitted socks since lockdown 1.0.

Knitting is useful to help empty a busy mind, regulate thoughts and systems to think about plots, characters and events. You end up with a sock and possibly a new novel every time. Plus, if you look at a search engine long enough, you’ll find that celebs do it as well.

Knitting. Not just for your aged maiden aunt.