I think I just rambled, Life, On Writing

Rambling, and other such matters.

– Reading –

I’m not sure if I can bear to read Go Set A Watchman. I enjoyed To Kill a Mockingbird and daren’t risk sullying the memory of Atticus or Scout. Some risks are just too large to take.24817626

Sequels and myself have a shoddy sort of footing. A sequel to Sherwood (‘Robin and the King’)  is sitting on my shelf right now and I’m not certain I can face it. What if they all die? I can’t have Robin Hood die. Or, or Marian.

Who would want to read about that? And even though I’ve had a bad experience with another book, I refuse to read spoilers. Which is either a very stupid thing or a thing of great wisdom.

– Writing –

floweringarden
fig 1.something: held sunshine. Taken in June. June! Where hast thou gone?

After a Big Effort (publishing a book or finishing a manuscript) I often go through a period of what can be summed up with one noise: ‘eh’.

Writing dribbles and drabbles and the inclination to pull up a sheet of paper or a Word document simply cannot summoned. Last month, Our Accidental Adventure was published (yours for only 0.99, four thousand years of servitude and your firstborn child. Terms and conditions apply) and suddenly, that was that.

Writing? Pah! Stare out of the window and watch some clouds instead.

Editing, you say? So last season.

Library books? Give me. Now. Forget eating, working and other reasonable and worthy occupations. Let me at ’em!

– ‘rithmetic –

Life flows on, as it always does. Sometimes I believe it goes altogether too fast. It’s like sand trickling through your fingers and no matter how hard you grasp at it, it still flows through. Where has this year gone?

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