King Crow and catch up

I was reading Wally Lamb's I know this much is true - I still am - but I've laid it aside (figuratively speaking as it's the kindle version) - in order to read the marvellous King Crow. I'm far from halfway through, given I only started on it yesterday, but the tone is accomplished and the voice bang on. It's about a teenage boy who lives in Salford with a penchant for ornithology. Birds.

Yesterday, after several weekends of feeling disconnected from the Mary Burns rewrite, I got into a stride. I wrote longhand - which I haven't done for yonks - and I ended up with sixteen or so pages. Writer's cramp is much more pleasing than writer's block. I'm hoping it will be as easy to resume this Friday. I have seven working days off from this Thursday and I need to get it into a fit state to resubmit. And then, this evening, as I arrived home from a very long day at work, I found myself with the opening paragraph of a book that has been jostling for space for a while. I tried to ignore it, but then realised I'd have to get the words down. So I did. So it's there, this hook, of another book. That rhymes. It rhymed better when I inserted the comma after hook, hence leaving it in. So. A bit of a catch up. More soonest. And just to say - Lionel Asbo?! I feel any respect I had for Amis the writer has flown out the window. The current LRB has also given the cover story - four whole pages (broadsheet sized pages) of text about him and Asbo. Aargh. Why?! We know why. But why, oh why?!


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