So people announce that they’ve written so many thousand words and I wonder how they do that and is it actually readable……..you know, if it were a sandwich would it be edible, tasty, satisfying? So I wrote a book years ago, on an actual typewriter because personal computers had yet to be invented. I thought it was great. I sent it off. They sent it back. I put it in the attic. Time passed and the story became lame because reality had superseeded it. Society had evolved. Damn that society ! Anyway, to cut a short story even shorter, I rediscovered it a couple of years ago, read it, and realised it was rubbish anyway so put it back in the attic.
So now Im writing another book. I cant get past the first chapter. So Im writing a sitcom but it may be too close to reality and, if it gets made, should I ever finish it (cant get past the second scene) I may be sued. So I dont know. I have changed names, but………..its all too clear who its based on, and it is written with love but, well, you know.
So Im making this bridge. Im guessing it will collapse as soon as a non-child walks on it. But it needs to be evacuated from my batcave so I can call it a studio again and make more paintings that nobody ever sees and wouldnt part with cash for even if they did .
Thats my problem in a nutshell. Not procrastination ,but self doubt. Or maybe its delusional to think Im anything but a taxi driver. Perhaps Im thick, as one of my mates has recently implied and not bothered to deny.
Or maybe Im not thick, but instead refuse to give credence to the academic politically correct waffle that assails my senses every day, much like the little boy in the tale of the Emperors new clothes. Novels, writing in general, can be said to change the world, but Im yet to see a painting that can claim to have done that despite the artbollocks written about it. So here I am, losing the battle against time, as we all do, and wondering what the heck its all about, whats it been for, and why do I bother?
Oh, and I saw a play on the magic dominoe in the corner of the room last night called “Nigel Farage Gets His Life Back”. It was a parody, an actor played Farage coming to terms with life now he has nothing left to do. Like him or loathe him, it cannot be denied that he led a revolution in this country, causing the people to get a vote on somehting that the authority thought was safe as houses and are now struggling to bring to fruition even though they must. And this is has inspired similar across the great pond , and will eventually inspire others in the member states of the EU. Whether its a good thing or not is debatable, but the fact is NONE of it would have happened without the man we all poke fun at.
And Im painfully aware how many times I started a sentence with “so”, which I “so” hate on the radio, which perhaps intimates my current hatred of myself. Im getting quite good at this self psycho analysis.
So………here we go again…….I have now watched the new QI, twice, with Sandy Toskvit (or whatever her name is) and I hate to say it, but its funnier without good old Fry ,and Alan has now won BOTH episodes which shows, as a guest on the show said, how much he must have been intimidated by Fry’s alleged intellect! Go Alan !
So………..aaagh, now I cant stop……….Im going to take some happy juice supplied by Transgeeks Limited………(said with love, btw) and go to bed.
Love all, hurt none, and walk in soft shoes
Isi Tart xx