Writing Process, Part 1 – The Magic Cup

Not all of my blog postings are entirely serious. Sometimes, it has to be said, I speak only in jest. But, this time, I am in deadly earnest. You can therefore believe me when I say that I have a magic cup. And here it is:

 The Magic Cup - of indeterminate origin and age.

I’m not sure exactly how old it is, but it once belonged to my great-great-aunt. When she died, my Mum brought a couple of her things home and I . . . well, I appropriated the cup. I mean, look at it. It’s all big and grey and antiquey. It’s even got a bit of a crackle glaze effect on the inside. So, yes, I pinched it. And I’m not sorry, because this is a magic cup. Seriously, do you have any idea how rare those are? Every day I thank my lucky stars that I happened to stumble across this cup’s power – and that is that it can cure any writer’s block. I kid you not. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but if I’m ever getting a bit stuck with a book, all I need to do is make myself a cup of tea in the magic cup and all my plot problems are solved. It has to be tea, by the way, which is slightly inconvenient as I’m more of a coffee drinker myself. I tried it with coffee once, but it didn’t work. And I tried it with cherryade, but that didn’t work either. It has to be tea. Green, mint or ordinary – doesn’t matter so long as it is tea of some kind. Preferably (but not essentially) it should be accompanied by a brown sugar swizzle stick

The only problem is that now I live in constant fear of someone breaking the cup. In order to avoid this potential calamity, it has a shelf all to itself at the top of the cupboard. It could be the last cup in the world and I wouldn’t let anyone borrow it. No one is allowed to touch it but me. And sometimes even I’m afraid to touch it, just in case I drop it. I was carrying it down the stairs once when the dogs got under my feet and almost tripped me up. And I very almost dropped the cup! Down the stairs! My hands were shaking for, like, ten minutes afterwards.

But the catastrophe was avoided, and the cup remains safe. Hopefully it will remain all in one piece and aid me with my writing for many years to come. I really don’t fancy having to trawl car boot sales and Ebay in manic search of another magic cup. Not when, for all I know, mine is the only one that exists in the world.

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One Response to “Writing Process, Part 1 – The Magic Cup”

  1. Trevor Bell Says:

    I am not one hundred percent sure if it is a good idea for me to admit that I once had a hot Lemsip in this cup. My cold disappeared within the week. It was the weirdest thing… ;-)

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