Reading while dead

Reading while dead

Saturday 27 July 2013

Summer time...

It has been lovely - I haven't exactly enjoyed it - although there were several moments yesterday outside Miles's bar in the sun when I felt that summer feeling.   But the living is not easy. of course not...

So far we have had 2 Kazak students, a spanish student, our two chinese students are going tomorrow (hurray - sorry, they have been hard work...) and Jaime has been here for 2 weeks, no one is coming until next week - then we have a Ukrainian for another fortnight... and there have been some other visitors.

I'm exhausted, and it isn't getting any better.  Today has been a "bitty" day.  I haven't been blogging because I frankly have nothing of interest to say - arguably that's often the case, but I usually manage to say it charmingly.  I have read a couple of books, done some domestic work, a bit of gardening, a lot of cooking (tonight's offering, sourdough garlic bread, lasagne, caponata, green salad, followed by ice cream with mint chocolate sauce (handy way of using up old After 8s from Christmas!)  I had a nice time yesterday with the family at the bar, and got sunburned.  I had a jolly time in the shop where I was described as "the kindest person I've ever met " by a woman who must truly (if we exclude hyperbole) have had a hard life if this was indeed the case, and I have been slowly doing bits for the festival...

What did I do today?  Bits.... a lot of talking to our guest, nice, but time-consuming.

The real problem is that I am in a great hurry to finish the re-write of Consc,. but realise now that it will be too thin, needs a sub-plot.  First I fretted about the sub-plot - hoped I'd dream one up - but then realised I should do the thing I have been thinking of writing.... which will be discussed in the Only Writing Blog in due course.   I feel a bit conflicted, there is a part of me that just wants to get this book out and about touring agents, and there is a bit of me that feels if I did  my sub-plot I would make it a far far better book - so what's not to like?  But the thought of all that work.... but if I am serious, then I really must make it as good as I possibly can.  I am just balking at a major re-write - but when I consider how much re-writing I've done on TRF...

I have had a lovely social time in the last few days - seeing lots of chums, and that has been wonderful.  The trouble is I am not actually "on holiday" and part of me is very keen to write, therefore I feel restless, and don't quite enjoy it as much as I should.  On the other hand, circumstances make this difficult.  Perhaps I should have a reading week - to absorb information and ideas for a fortnight or so, plus, I have to write my talk on Beaumarchais - at which I now wonder at my temerity.  Still, we love a bit of light cultural history.

Now the hot weather is broken - it began early this week with thunderstorms and we have another tonight - I love thunder storms - why?  Excitement I suppose.  An intensity.  I feel ludicrously as if I am love - but dear M isn't inspiring this feeling, so is the LO just a default for this, a receptacle for these feelings?  His reality is different.

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