This had nothing to do with writing - but it was to visit the University of East Anglia - so that my eldest son Ned could visit the Politics dept. It is on a hill - so I was knackered before we even got half way there... however, I abandoned Ned to tour the buildings and went to the Sainsbury Centre - the art gallery. It was boiling hot and didn't appear to have a cloak room so I spent the day lugging my velvet jacket around and feeling hot and exhausted.
What has this to do with writing? Well, on the drive to Norwich I found myself thinking incessantly about the characters and so on - and found the conversation at dinner with my lovely friends a bit irrelevant because I was still thinking about TRF. In the Sainsbury Centre (or whatever it's called) I sat down at a small table in front of a case of walrus and mammoth ivory items, figures mostly and found that I had no notebook with me - only a Filofax containing last year's calendar. So I wrote on that. I wrote for about 40 mins, then went to the cafe and wrote for another 45 mins. Irritating to have to write longhand, so not much punctuation, unfinished words etc. but I was so pleased to have completed a good scene at the end of it. It's the scene between the heroine and her husband when he tells her he wants a divorce... it seemed good: I'll be transcribing it today.
The upshot of this was that I didn't get my usual thrill at seeing a gallery - partly because of the nature of the collection, but also because I was so pre-occupied with the book.
What has this to do with writing? Well, on the drive to Norwich I found myself thinking incessantly about the characters and so on - and found the conversation at dinner with my lovely friends a bit irrelevant because I was still thinking about TRF. In the Sainsbury Centre (or whatever it's called) I sat down at a small table in front of a case of walrus and mammoth ivory items, figures mostly and found that I had no notebook with me - only a Filofax containing last year's calendar. So I wrote on that. I wrote for about 40 mins, then went to the cafe and wrote for another 45 mins. Irritating to have to write longhand, so not much punctuation, unfinished words etc. but I was so pleased to have completed a good scene at the end of it. It's the scene between the heroine and her husband when he tells her he wants a divorce... it seemed good: I'll be transcribing it today.
The upshot of this was that I didn't get my usual thrill at seeing a gallery - partly because of the nature of the collection, but also because I was so pre-occupied with the book.
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