Evelyn Waugh. Not me.
Hello again. It’s been a bit quiet over here at JFC recently, so I thought I’d pop by in case you all missed me…
Oh. OK then. Anyway…
Life is too hastily hectic to pen a proper post just now – yes, that’s also my stock excuse for not writing enough, but it’s true I tell you.
But I couldn’t help sharing this wonderful thing I just learned:
Evelyn Waugh – an utter unmitigated genius if ever there were one – was apparently so disillusioned with his first unpublished novel after a friend said they didn’t like it that he burned it.
Then attempted to drown himself.
Always a touch on the over-dramatic side, we British artistic types.
Fortunately, he was stung by a jellyfish instead and headed back to shore to compose such masterpieces as Scoop, Sword of Honour, White Mischief, etc. etc.
Thank goodness for that jellyfish I say.
So, in honour of Friday, what’s your favourite piece of literary oddness my friends? Please share, I’m busy but bored.
I had every good intention of attacking November in the full spirit of NaNo, with the same gusto with which I grew a ludicrous ‘tache for Movember a couple of years ago.
But when it came to it, I fell at the first hurdle. I simply couldn’t commit the time to crafting – or even hacking – over 1500 words a day.
Couldn’t, or wouldn’t? I could beat myself up and say I failed. I could torment myself with how I could have squeezed the extra hours in somewhere. I could bemoan my lot for having such a busy existence and too many competing demands on my time.
I could, but I won’t
The simple, honest truth is that I didn’t want to crank out 50,000 words I wasn’t enjoying writing for the new book which is supposed to be a thing of joy and delight. I write because I want to. Because I love it. Having just finished the first novel, where I jumped in at the middle and fought my way out, I’m thoroughly enjoying the process of planning and plotting the next.
Which is very much unlike me. I don’t do planning.
So it was a conscious decision NotToNaNo, rather than a can’t-be-bothered, finding-an-excuse type of a thing.
But, to all you NaNoers out there, I doff my cap in genuine admiration and wish you all immense success with your endeavours. May the words fly from your pens like doves at an Olympic opening ceremony.
Now stop reading this, you’ve got writing to do!