Thursday
Last night I finished a long (20,000 words) short story that I’ve been stalled on for what feels like years, called The Spectacular . I don’t know if it’s any good. I have my doubts. Over the weekend I have to finish off another one - easier, this, mainly because it’s rubbish. They get sent to my agent on Monday. Then it’s downhill through the others, rolling the whole lot up into a nice bouncy ball - hopefully before Christmas. Then I’m going to live on the west coast of Ireland for three months to write a book about sea ghosts. Then I’m going to come back to London and have a breakdown.
This morning I went over to West Ham for breakfast with my friend Jasper. Stop , he cried.
We talked about canons, vampires, computer games, our friend Raj, the Royal Mail dispute, food, getting up in the mornings and copyright. And other things I’ve forgotten. I told him stuff that’s been happening on the news, and he told me a very funny story about Vienetta.
I took the train home from Barking, all through the north east looking down on the city in the chilly sun.
