Sunday, June 25, 2006

551 pages

Which is how many there are now (double-spaced, if they were printed out, but they're almost all virtual pages). Will it never end? Sometimes being a writer seems self indulgent, as when I write 3 pages (as I did this morning) and come to the end of a section and feel as if I've accomplished something. Did I save the world? No. And (as per the Coupland quote, see here) I'm not boiling the carcass of the old order either.
Possibly I'm thinking these thoughts because I've been reading Field Notes on the Compassionate Life, which is just the kind of book to make you feel as if all you ever do is eat chocolate and think about what color to dye your hair. I'm planning on reading some Hunter Thompson and the new Janet Evanovich to counterbalance it.

1 Comments:

Blogger susan grimm said...

But surely boiling the carcass of the old order might at times result in chocolate!! There doesn't seem to be a lot about enjoyment in his world view.

6/26/2006 4:34 PM  

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