6 January, 2008
The writer no longer burns.
He cools himself with lukewarm instant coffee, eats cheap chocolate and doesn’t cut his hair.
He reads Vonnegut, bus tickets and old journal entries alike, the latter filled with the ash of long-cooled embers. Still not yet a Random House novelist nor a Faber poet. No Boy Nextdoor in the bed beside him. No such person now under the name he was given. All just names now. Words.
He collects, inventories and categorises words.
He kids himself that this is the calm before the storm - the nowhere time barely filled with games of Patience, idle lovemaking and staring thoughtlessly into starless skies. Silent. The universe and fate sharing a last breath like lovers about to be lost.
The writer no longer writes.
The writer reads. He watches. He waits.
He breathes.
And yet he’s still a writer. Funny, that.
Comment by Ani — 6 January, 2008, 9:04 pm
And yet he writes a little bit even then.
Not bad.
I have learned that a writer can’t always write. (A good excuse when working 9-6 before heading to the pub).
Comment by Wyrd's Little Sister — 6 January, 2008, 10:42 pm
Sometimes I tell myself that simply breathing - in and out and in and out - is enough. Too often, I find that I’m fooling myself, because I soon realise it’s not.
This is one of those short, pointed pieces of writing where I think that somebody might temporarily have taken up residence in my head, which is a very self-centred thing to say, of course. Since it’s your head, not mine.
Still, that has left me a little lost for words. I hope I remember how to write them again.
Comment by An Unreliable Witness — 6 January, 2008, 10:56 pm
Sometimes the waiting time is important. It’s part of the process, you know. Be patient.
Comment by bohémienne — 7 January, 2008, 1:14 am
The tide’s out. There have been low tides before.
But there’s a flood-tide coming. I don’t think the writer is kidding himself at all - I think his time is very close. Very close.
Comment by Janatan — 7 January, 2008, 7:17 am
Not writing is no excuse for cheap chocolate and lukewarm instant coffee.
And I would like to see your inventory of words. They’re such fun little bugs.
Comment by Jess — 7 January, 2008, 2:18 pm
It is the calm before the storm, Ben. We all follow the pattern of the tide
after all. You just have to be ready for the storm when it comes!
Comment by Jayne — 10 January, 2008, 3:15 pm
To rewrite Oscar Wilde, I put only my talent into my writing, I put all my genius into taking it easy.
Comment by drodbar — 12 January, 2008, 10:15 pm