I know we are all supposed to write two negronis in, a coil of smoke spiralling towards the ceiling, while (one of) our lover(s) snoozes, but I’m afraid I must introduce something as dull as a formula to the process.
I scribbled this on a train once while wrestling with a book proposal - it arrived in my mind as if thrown through the window as I trundled past Templecombe - and it really helps me with this early stage more than a Gitanes.