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Getting the muse when we can

Every week is busy when you're working full-time in a demanding role. So it was perhaps no surprise when I woke up later than my average weekend lie in yesterday morning, missing the first week of a writers group that I had meant to go to. It didn't stop me from spending the rest of the day from writing on my work-in-progress though; the muse was there, after a hiatus. And so too this morning. So all in all a fair bit done.
I had coffee with the editor of a trade title last week, for work, and we ended up chatting about how we keep the creative flame alive outside of work - which is the test for the vast majority of writers, artists et al. We take our muse where we can - as long as it's on the weekend! I feel quite drained now though, which tells me I've done enough on the WIP to warrant a rest until next weekend.

I'm currently reading Richard Ford's Canada. It's a good read. But there's a lot of it; a hefty cull it could have used! I've learnt though, that my own writing could do with a slower pace; not too slow though; Ford repeats certain feelings and thoughts which I feel are unnecessary.
This wasn't the case in Alison Moore's Booker short listed title: The Lighthouse. A bit of an odd ending, but she manages to get the pace just right - and in doing so the novel could be seen as verging on the novella. But f that's how the story fits, then that's how it fits.
The London Review of Books current issue has a new poem by Hinglish poet Daljit Nagra, and this week's TLS one by Glyn Maxwell.
Till next weekend, then.


Location:Kew

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