4 Jul 2014

Today’s Update

Hail all who dare read:

I am letting you all in on a little secret today: writers have bad days. In fact, some days we feel like just curling up into bed, and not waking till tomorrow; or perhaps the day after that; or perhaps, even, sleeping there for all eternity, lost in a plethora of infinite dreams.

Indeed, I was attempting to write a post on dreams today. Unfortunately, I am finding it very difficult. I suspect I waited too long since my strange, vivid dream three nights ago; I have lost the thread of memories and emotions that came with it.

Such is the nature of dreams: powerful in their time, but ephemeral; forgotten easily, and remembered with great difficulty.

Anyway: this is my update for today. I do apologise for my lack of alacrity in posting as of late. Firstly, I had my exams; then came this unusually pleasant weather; and yesterday I was in Oxford, as my father had a job interview there. (Alas, it was not successful. However, it was too far away regardless.)

Despite this, I am ploughing on—difficulties in writing be damned—and shall soon be posting on... the essence of a great tale.

There are two reasons for this: firstly, I shall be finalising my edits for the Necromancer (and could do with a clear direction in that); and, secondly, it will act as a good primer for future posts on Aristotle’s Poetics which I’ve been reading.

I am also collecting more good music to add to my collection (a non-trivial task, believe me) which—despite being close to 3000 songs now—has started to feel inadequate in supplying my musical hunger.

If it is of any interest to you, my newly discovered Interesting Musician is Roger Subirana Mata—see his Jamendo page.

Very well, I need to get working. I have a bunch of eager-looking baggage to pack as well; I’m going to Holland on Sunday, if you aren’t aware.

(Of course you aren’t aware. Who follows Stargazer’s crazy life anyway?)

Oh, they’ve gotten restless from the lack of attention now...

‘When will that idiot come and pack us up?’ asked the big suitcase.

‘When he feels like it, duh. Don’t you know he has to write all that bullshit for his blog?’ replied the little suitcase.

The big suitcase only said: ‘I bloody hate the narcissistic bastard...’

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