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incandescensNot as with sundering of the earth . . . no, wait, that's Swinburne. My mind is a little fuzzed at the moment.
I had the not uncommon plan of "since I need to get a taxi at approx 5am anyhow, and will be on a plane all day, I may as well stay up all night and crash all day". It is now approaching 3am, and my body (having become apprised of my mind's plans) is doing the equivalent of dragging me off to the debtor's court, with reference to the non-payment of a certain amount of sleep.
Hush, hush, body. You can nap in the taxi. Really. You've done it before. Have some more coffee for the moment. Coffee, the stuff of life, the liquor of enlightenment (or is that rahat lakoum? no, wrong musical), my most serious addiction. Though one could argue that fiction is a stronger addiction. I have to keep on feeding my mind with new stuff, shovelling it into that ever-hungry hopper.
My greatest fear is that some day I shall find out that I am Tomlinson. Rather than just worrying if I am.
Yes, writing at 3am does do strange things to my narrative flow, not to mention to my coherence, my common sense, my good judgement (if ever I had any), and, um. Add your choice of quality to the list.
I see from a friend's email that she's just caught her first glimpse of the new characters in second season Saiyuki. "Silent, upon a peak in Darien . . ."
I was rereading -- well, flicking through -- Charles Williams' The Greater Trumps earlier, and for some reason, this stuck in my mind, and I quotefiled it.
In a forced and horrible croak, as if speech broke through against commandment and against control, Joanna said: "It's you all the time. I shall see him when you're dead. When you're dead and the world's destroyed, I'll see my desire."
The Greater Trumps, Charles Williams
Till I write again, when I write again, when I shall have written again, with writing again having been done, at the point of writing again . . .
Yo, America.
I had the not uncommon plan of "since I need to get a taxi at approx 5am anyhow, and will be on a plane all day, I may as well stay up all night and crash all day". It is now approaching 3am, and my body (having become apprised of my mind's plans) is doing the equivalent of dragging me off to the debtor's court, with reference to the non-payment of a certain amount of sleep.
Hush, hush, body. You can nap in the taxi. Really. You've done it before. Have some more coffee for the moment. Coffee, the stuff of life, the liquor of enlightenment (or is that rahat lakoum? no, wrong musical), my most serious addiction. Though one could argue that fiction is a stronger addiction. I have to keep on feeding my mind with new stuff, shovelling it into that ever-hungry hopper.
My greatest fear is that some day I shall find out that I am Tomlinson. Rather than just worrying if I am.
Yes, writing at 3am does do strange things to my narrative flow, not to mention to my coherence, my common sense, my good judgement (if ever I had any), and, um. Add your choice of quality to the list.
I see from a friend's email that she's just caught her first glimpse of the new characters in second season Saiyuki. "Silent, upon a peak in Darien . . ."
I was rereading -- well, flicking through -- Charles Williams' The Greater Trumps earlier, and for some reason, this stuck in my mind, and I quotefiled it.
In a forced and horrible croak, as if speech broke through against commandment and against control, Joanna said: "It's you all the time. I shall see him when you're dead. When you're dead and the world's destroyed, I'll see my desire."
The Greater Trumps, Charles Williams
Till I write again, when I write again, when I shall have written again, with writing again having been done, at the point of writing again . . .
Yo, America.
no subject
Date: 2002-10-05 09:11 am (UTC)(Have I mentioned that I love the Brits? I love the Brits. Never mind why.) Mind you, I love them a lot less when they can find copies of Charles Williams and I can't because the book-selling market here is dominated by Our Neighbours-with-a-u-dammit To The South hmph.
-mjj