I am waiting for a book to arrive.  I rediscovered an article in Mslexia on Sarah Hall and ran straight out to the bookshop to find out that £9 is too much for an unemployed person to pay for a fiction paperback.  So I wait for the postman or perhaps the vanman.  In the bookshop in Walthamstow I was provided with a comfortable chair in which I ploughed through enough pages of The Carhullan Army to be impressed (though not enough to forego the economic benefits of Amazon).  Her style is careful and crafted and full in creating a sensory world for the reader.  Or perhaps it is different from this.  It is hard to write about a text from memory.  She writes how I would like to write.  I get excited when appreciation and emulation overlap.  It is the opposite of measured, objective appraisal.  You LOVE it, just want to eat it up, slurp…gobble…

It made me want to write.  So I’m waiting for my book to arrive and renew my inspiration instead of trying to remember how and why I was inspired.


One thought on “waiting…

He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you.

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