Good morning! Have sorted out work - My Company has an Away Day tomorrow - so am now a free man....re read extract from The Guardian article(did Emily give this to us/or Alison???) on Richard Ford by Laura Barton.....about his relationship to the process of writing. Very insightful....you know, much of these techniques I have already been using, the notebook on my person when out and about to capture bits of overheard conversation for character dialogue and profound, interesting observations of people and situations. What I've noticed about my own approach is that I 'll often have a thought - a phrase or even a picture like the scene from a film in my head, of a character saying or doing or even thinking something...also threads of plot or just a completely obtuse idea...(Ive started getting them again after a fallow period over the summer, so the City course must be helping). On Monday night I was forced by a few of these 'pressing friends' as I like to refer to them - to get out of bed, shortly after I had got into bed to retire for the night - and jot them down in my note book.
Yesterday evenning I had a brilliant Tango lesson in Moorgate! #######################
Dancing Argentine Tango is creative food for my soul. It also feeds my writing, as does going to the pictures(which I did after tango). I met Howard at Maison Berteaux in Soho around eight and we shared a pot of green (real leaves!!) tea. We sat in the ante room so I could eat my illicit brought from home sandwich as he munched on a piece of cheese and broccoli quiche. Another (young arty )couple are seated infront of us - he looks Italian...shoulder length dark hair, unshaven look, expensive sweater with a geometric pattern.The girl with him is caramel dark with set, shortish black hair. I cant make out whether they are lovers on an early stage-affair -date(there is a slight awkwardness about him; the way he keeps putting his elbows on and of the table) or just aquiantances. She gets up to visit the toilet(in the adjacent building and upstairs, so I know, and so will Mr. Italiano know, she will be gone for a while - especially if there is a que , which is possible as next door where they take your order IS busy).Mr Italiano turns himself round in his chair so that he is almost directly facing me(and Howard's back)...he is clearly uncomfortable with something or someone because he is unable to sit still, even for 30 seconds. He opens his legs allowing his crotch to unfold into full view. He looks about small refreshment arena , at Howard's back , then me, though careful not to engage a look;then at the couple of young japanese girls who've not long arrived and sat down to frothy lattes and great slice each of layered cream cake. I make a few notes in that cafe - because it's where I have the idea - about starting my novel in the first person - with the protagonist, who has - under a witness protection scheme - been reassigned a complete new identity - telling us how it feels to having to rote learn an internal history belonging to someone else ; an old friend who you've never known or met - having to let go of you own past(having dementia or a dose of old style ETC would be helpful- the emptyness he feels - like the gap at the end of a shelf vacated by a loaned out library book- awaiting the return...well, something like that..I cant wait to get on with it now; I am almost wetting my pants(well - perhaps that the strong tea I had earlier)....off into town and another Tango lesson at 5pm....so ....later.....
Oh, after about 10 miutes, the caramel girl comes back in and I notice that she's wearing very sexual knee length brown boots. They fit so tightly they seem moulded onto her lower legs.One of the boots has a scratch like an open wound along the top inside edge.She doesnt notice I have noticed this but I look up and understand by the look that Mr Italiano gives me, followed by a flash grin, that he has.
If anyone IS reading this....do chip in with your pennith worth!