So I’ve been completely radio silent of late, which is bad. I have, however, settled nicely in New Place, I’ve got some excellent maps in and am now ready to get hammered back into the writing business. There are also a few book reviews incoming, as I’ve been reading rather a lot more. Specifically in the pipeline is Marcus Sedgwick’s ‘My Swordhand Is Singing’ and its sequel, ‘The Kiss Of Death’. I picked up a few on period history today as well, which I’ll get through as gracefully as my dodgy eyes allow. I need to figure out exactly where the Tolbooth was and what it looked like before I can finish the opening scenes.
I intend to visit Mary King’s Close this week, and will use the experience not to go on about people being bricked up, but to get a feel for the City itself. That’s the point.
Also fairly important, I’ll be going into recent musical discoveries in considerable depth, because the soundtrack I use when writing/exploring is often an essential ingredient in what I feel at the time, and then that hits the page when writing starts. I recently purchased some lovely notepad too, which will be used extensively for field notes along with the trusty iPhone camera. My Canon 400D will be used later, during specific photography expeditions.
xx
S
A Cunning Plan
Saturday, December 12th, 2009Having free time is not agreeing with me. I do believe I have a case of Cabin Fever coming on.
I avoided taking time off for all these years not because I like making money, or out of a dire sense of duty/responsibility, but because I knew full well I’d get nothing done at all. I am totally useless at holidays. [not that this counts as a holiday]
I was up all last night listening to Meshuggah Radio on Last.FM. I here define ‘up’ as lying on my camping mat swaddled up in a duvet [dear Lord how I love that word] with earphones in trying desperately to sleep. Failing. Anyway the thing about Meshuggah and bands that sound like them – as one would expect to hear on Meshuggah Radio – is that it involves lots of clean, crisp, interesting technical precision drumming. With very strange timelines, often quite jazzy or even tribal.
I have a Djembe drum. I bought it a surprisingly long time ago. Hannah helped me chose it. That was a good day. I have not played it since moving, but I thought “Hey, I’ll go up to the Meadows with my drum and play it for aaaaages”. I had a lovely vision of several other people joining me with their own instruments and a small crowd forming, dancing merrily along. That plan didn’t get very far, because I did finally fall asleep at 10:30am, and it was horribly foggy out. Not safe for cycling with a bloody big African drum strapped you my back.
So if it’s clearer tomorrow, I am going to get out there and do it. I’m going to go to the Meadows as early as I can make it [has to be light, has to be clear. Otherwise I'll likely get hit and die] and play until my hands go numb.
I will Tweet my arrival, assuming I get there. You are welcome to join me.
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