In rustling among the chaotic corners of my house I discovered an old CD player of the shove it in your bag variety. The poor thing is as old as most of the people who make me coffee these days, but it still works pretty well so I have employed it to be my music giver while I write.
It’s been a while since I’ve listened to an album right the way through, and I’m kinda liking it. Of course, not having listened to a lot of the CDs as CDs in an equally long time, is part of the novelty.
Whether it helps the writing process is yet to be seen.