I have two writing minds, and they are located in separate times of the week. Weekends are for writing shorts and non-fiction. My weekdays are for novels. It seems to be the way my subconscious likes to work because, I suppose, up until the last year, most of my writing was short fiction, and most of that was done by necessity on the weekends (or on the train to and from work*).
This weekend I've managed to write and submit an article to a US mag, and start on a short story project that that had been languishing a little. The article I started before sunrise on Saturday, and it was an absolute blast, and so fun to write that I'd finished a pretty good draft in time to take the dogs for a walk before nine - where I got the idea for another article, which, if I'm on the ball I might just write up this evening**.
The short story has been a more fractured thing. Bits and pieces here and there. But it's starting to take shape, we'll see how it looks next weekend, eh.
Have high hopes for the week, should have a more or less complete second draft of the Players by Friday, am currently working on the scenes in the poisonous Hamlet-inspired world of Belladonna, where something does indeed smell rotten. Fingers crossed.
*unfortunately I don't have a train at home.
**though I do have a copy of Neal Asher's Line War just looking at me, waiting to get its mycelium hooks in.