I'm at my desk by 9 a.m., having showered, breakfasted and ploughed through the Daily Star's in-depth political coverage. (Apparently some female M.P.s have enormous bazongas). The first thing I do is decide which characters will appear in this week's strips. Realising that The Vultures haven't featured for a while, I opt for them. Okay, fifteen minutes have passed and I have come up with nothing. It's time to get into my "thinking position". I move to the couch in my office and lie down, my sketch pad resting on my chest and pen in hand. I close my eyes and think. It's usually about 35 minutes later when I wake up. So now an hour has passed and not a single word has been written. Concentrate. Concentrate. What can The Vultures be up to? COFFEE! Not The Vultures---me. A quick break and a plough through the Daily Star's news section. (Apparently some female newsreaders have enormous bazongas). That's when panic sets in. If I don't write at least three strips today, hopefuly more, Horace and Andy Capp will get pushed back. Then it happens. The moment of blinding inspiration.....just write the biggest heap of nonsense that comes into your head.
And that's it. It's easy!