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Absence of thought. Who said writing was easy.

¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦

08:23 GMT, Friday 25^th April. Barely awake. Finding it hard to get out of bed past few mornings. Not sure if it’s the weather…temperature and humidity rising…or the fact I’m starting to struggle with the book. I’m into chapter 36 (59,000 words in) and I feel like I’m wading through jelly. Last night I felt as though I had forgotten how to write and I climbed into the bath with a novel written by one of my favourite authors, intending to remind myself what it is I should be doing. I gave up after 5 minutes; his stuff was no different to mine and I realised I hadn’t forgotten or lost anything.  I’m just tired.

Somebody bought me a book on a whim yesterday, “What Mad Universe” by Fredric Brown. It’s got a godawful trashy cover and the strapline reads: “The SF classic of a man trapped in a hilarious alternate reality”. I’m looking forward to reading it, and I’m flattered somebody took time out to go get it.

Yesterday also witnessed a conversation between myself and a film-producer. He’s read my short script SALO IV and is keen to punt it out to his contacts; so we’ll see what (if anything) comes back. All positive stuff though eh?

Djr