Wrote a long blog post; didn't like it. Here's the short version: I have called time on my PhD study to escape from the never-ending current of precarity and exploitation [which I was never subjected to but could see coming], finally falling into step with the most natural course my life could possible take: writing.… Continue reading Big change [the short version]
It was 0230 and something had woken me. Like a hypnic jerk, I was shaken bodily from sweet oblivion, rising to the surface like a bucket from a well. It wasn't thrashing rain against my window or someone clattering past my door on the way to the bathroom, it was a paragraph of words hurling… Continue reading Sleep-writing
Youth by J.M.Coetzee Where to begin with J.M. Coetzee’s Youth. Rarely have I felt such conflicting feelings about a book. Gloomy would be one way to describe it; cerebral another. Intelligent, insightful and virtuosic? Definitely. Pretentious? I only found out after finishing that Youthis the second instalment of the South African author’s fictionalised memoir, making it Scenes from… Continue reading Doom and gloom in 1960s London
The vast majority of my disposable income is swiftly swapped for paperbacks and old classics in my local bookshops. I buy more books than I do pints of milk, most of them secondhand these days (the books not the milk...). That way, I can spend a tenner not on just one crisp and shelf-new paperback,… Continue reading I’m off to the bookshop
My new clock is staring at me, its 'silent sweep' second hand gesturing sarcastically like an impatient companion tapping their wrist. It's 0133. Without stopping at each individual notch on its circuit, the seconds seem to pass faster than on an ordinary ticking clock. It is sitting there, passive aggressively waiting for me to give… Continue reading Silent Sweep
I turned 27 this week which is weird because I still feel like a confused teenager thrashing their way through a transformative adolescence. Did you ever stop still as a kid and wonder, just because you weren't thinking about it in that exact moment, if you could actually have forgotten your own name? Just for… Continue reading Factually, technically…numerically.
Going back to that Bob Dylan quote from yesterday... I change throughout the course of a day. I wake and I’m one person, and when I go to sleep I know for certain I’m somebody else.” ...I think I'm learning that the writer version of my many forms is nocturnal. I seem to get my… Continue reading I contain multitudes, Vol.2