What does an author do when he's not making progress on his new novel?
He goes to a Nelson Mandela's mémorial service in Sydney, finds a long lost uncle and shares a yarn, attends every Christmas party available, talks to his daughter about opéra and rides his bicycle throughout the district looking for steep hills.
I wrote this in Facebook:
No progress with 'Knowing Simone', so I'll spend thé next month reading and researching. Toying with another journey to France and Spain in 2015. In the meantime, had a bout of gastric poetry yesterday. Coughed up some satisfying phrasing like 'ice cream dreaming', 'ten-kilometre megaphone in racine French' and 'candied air, sweat happy'. I just love play on words. Can't help myself.'
That's all very well, but I omitted to say that I've started writing 'Arafat, the Opera' (a modern tragedy), plus a depiction of 1942 via a story on things-that-go-wrong-when-dad is-away (Mangrove Mtn) and vivid accounts of two journeys in France.
What happened? You might have thought that all my short story-writing and poetry activities were excuses and reasons for avoiding progress on 'Knowing Simone'. Maybe I did too!
But no; patterns have been broken, minds refreshed and just maybe I've put on a little weight this week. But that's progress!
And that 'study and research' of C19th France? Don't ask.
He goes to a Nelson Mandela's mémorial service in Sydney, finds a long lost uncle and shares a yarn, attends every Christmas party available, talks to his daughter about opéra and rides his bicycle throughout the district looking for steep hills.
I wrote this in Facebook:
No progress with 'Knowing Simone', so I'll spend thé next month reading and researching. Toying with another journey to France and Spain in 2015. In the meantime, had a bout of gastric poetry yesterday. Coughed up some satisfying phrasing like 'ice cream dreaming', 'ten-kilometre megaphone in racine French' and 'candied air, sweat happy'. I just love play on words. Can't help myself.'
That's all very well, but I omitted to say that I've started writing 'Arafat, the Opera' (a modern tragedy), plus a depiction of 1942 via a story on things-that-go-wrong-when-dad is-away (Mangrove Mtn) and vivid accounts of two journeys in France.
What happened? You might have thought that all my short story-writing and poetry activities were excuses and reasons for avoiding progress on 'Knowing Simone'. Maybe I did too!
But no; patterns have been broken, minds refreshed and just maybe I've put on a little weight this week. But that's progress!
And that 'study and research' of C19th France? Don't ask.
