Whenever The Author was asked about where he got his ideas, he’d make a joke about paying someone to come up with them. But if pushed, he’d admit that he had a notebook, in which he would write down phrases, ideas or even just words that pressed buttons in his head.
People expected it to be a battered, old notebook, given his career length, or someone in leather and gold considering The Author’s cash flow.
Actually it was a computer, and honestly, he didn’t really need it, it just helped him focus.
At least, he thought so. Then it died…