Saturday, August 20, 2005

Conf 87 Life's Too Short for Sudoku

No. of words: ugh - same

After landlords' visit on Saturday morning to discuss our moving out of this house, it was off to Seaview on the Isle of Wight for cheerful, sunny weekend with friends by the sea. Seaview is a timewarp. A cross between a miniaturisedly modest Hamptons - the same families return to the same houses year after year for generations - and Enid Blyton c.1951. Then - en route to mother, sister and nephews in Folkestone (sodukuing in the car, which annoys partner no end) - a night in Rye. We couldn't afford to stay here , which is probably just as well, as it's one of the most haunted inns in England. We did go there for a drink and a bar meal, though, which was fab, and had a good mooch around Rye. I had a weekend place there for a short while in another life, an ancient teashop, and would love to spend more time there again sometime. It was home to many writers and artists, one (scrummy) house boasting Henry James and
E F Benson as former residents. Rye was also home for Joseph Conrad, H G Wells, G K Chesterton, John Nash, Edward Burra and Captain Pugwash. We drove the wild coastal route via Dungeness, I looked out for Derek Jarman's hut and garden, but sadly didn't see it. We will return.

Got back here to a few thousand words of debt, no writing done over weekend, and scary phone call from estate agent about notice to quit. Not a good feeling, coming back to a home that isn't going to be home quite soon. Not knowing where we're going or, more crucially, how we're going to get there. Buried fears with Chinese takeaway, cheesy telly and bottle of wine.

How about this for an enviable writing method, from the Paris Review (thanks to maud):

"When I’m in writing mode for a novel, I get up at 4:00 am and work for five to six hours. In the afternoon, I run for 10km or swim for 1500m (or do both), then I read a bit and listen to some music. I go to bed at 9:00 pm. I keep to this routine every day without variation.
The repetition itself becomes the important thing; it’s a form of mesmerism.
I mesmerize myself to reach a deeper state of mind. But to hold to such repetition for so long — six months to a year — requires a good amount of mental and physical strength. In that sense, writing a long novel is like survival training. Physical strength is as necessary as artistic sensitivity."

Maudless ones, guess who....







Clue: Female











HA, only kidding....





....


They don't have to make packed lunches for the kids in the morning, do they...












or empty the dishwasher....










or fill it..















and what's guessing they don't have a blog....





......





Haruki Murakami



Sorry, now I've finally cracked linking, I can't stop...

here's the lovely Derek Jarman's garden.









Bye bye, thanks for visiting, come again soon.