I’m telling you, its incredibly hard to tuck into a squiggle of horseradish jus, and a crispy a la duck thingy mejig, when your breathing fire, something or someone is bound to get burnt.
Met up with my sister in Islington for a Sunday roast, but let’s just say I was not in the best of moods to begin with, due to realising a couple of hours prior that I’d lost my bank card. As my sibling sucked on her pre-drink apologetically, I was on the phone to a bank representative who I imagined without having met this person, went by the name of Mr A. Hole. I took deep intermittent breaths, as I was promptly shoved on hold AGAIN.
Before taking writing more seriously, life seemed to get in the way like a stringy old pair of knickers after swimming, and I stopped reading altogether. I couldn’t even get through a Cosmopolitan without getting distracted, but I’m back on the ball and have been eating books for breakfast, catching up on all those useless days I wasted when I could have been reading. I’ve found it gives me an awesome buzz, a weird sort of electrical energy after I’m done with a book. I’m enjoying it so much, and have a new appreciation for the author -which I don’t think I had before- I’m at times left in gobsmacked awe, at the ease of which a story has been told, and other times mystified at the exciting journey they’ve taken me on. I never know how they’ve done it, so I try to remember the ‘Why’ as in why this book made me feel, think or hear it in that way, and I try to find that honesty in my own writing.
I found just the nook in the British library to curl up and read in…And of course write, it’s an amazing space.
Tue- Hackney Downs
Went for a run this morning….As I ran, I began to think all sorts of silly, weird things, but a las there’s no room for a notebook in peel off pants and sweaty hoody, so I had to rely on good old fashioned brain power, how inconvenient…