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All I can write in 30 minutes

02/03/2002

This could be fun. Rushed and full of typos.

I’m allowing myself 30 minutes. live, online, straight into ‘Andrew’s Box’ to complete today’s entry. (There may be more entrances later).

On verra.

Thanks to week two of ‘The Artist’s Way’ by Julia Cameron I am buzzing. Today I went out and did something I have not done for a long time – I’ve been drawing. I’ll pick up on it tomorrow. I sold pictures I did of Colleges when at University (Oxford), I bet I can do it again. Cash for having fun … and I’m in character too.

The protagonist in ‘The Time Telescope’ is a kid from the local art school. HE would do this kind of thing. Hah!

Less than four minutes in.

I’ll need to give myself three minutes to spell check (Andrew, if you are listening, when will you put a spell check in here. No. Don;t do it … it’ll be American English. That empire building irritant from Microsoft).

Ahhh! Joanna calls.

Joanna Lumley is the voice of AOL (Only in the UK?) I’ve just been informed that I have e.mail. No, not now. Please.

I’m right in the middle … at the beginning of an important experiment. It can wait. You can wait can’t you? Please don’t jump, please come back. Please don’t be spam. This is a new address. Aaah! Any tips on how to rid myself of unsolicited email???)

Back to business.

I want to share something that Anais Nin said about keeping a journal. It is highly relevant here. DO you have more than one diaryland diary? Do you have a diary elsewhere? I’ve tried, but keeping falling back on what I call ‘The whole shooting match’ or ‘The Contents of My Brain’ (often misspelt Brian, as in ‘life of’)

That Anais Nin quote from ‘Henry & June’, Journals, p208, July 1932.

‘It seems to me that I follow only the most accessible thread’ (This refers to that tentacle of interest we choose to expostulate on line) … I continue. ‘Three or four threads may be agitated, like telegraph wires, at the same time, and if I were to tap them all I would reveal such a mixture of innounce (sp) … (I am copying this from long hand notes) … and duplicity, generosity and calculation, fear and courage. I cannot tell the whole truth simply because I would have to write four journals at once. I often would have to retrace my steps, because of my vice for embellisment.’

Some do, I don’t. Do YOU embellish. If you do I dare you … go out and do it instead. You’ll notice a difference. Things happen. You’ll also discover Truth in your writing, all the better to Lie.

Enough of Anais.

I’m not sitting at this keyboard properly. I’ve getting aches in my shoulder and my giners. (he digs out one of those knuckle rest thingeys. He switched to an adjustable office chair. He takes a swig of Bud).

Where was I. Stream of inconsciousness. (More Bud).

I’ve been at it since early this morning, like … like 5.30 a.m. I’ve been doing an audit all day. One of those tedious ‘time in motion’ things they do in big companies. I have witnessed many in the car industry. I was there with a TV crew monitoring their progress then sharing their good deeds with the empire. So I have done an audit. I have to discover why so little time is being spent on ‘the novel’.

(Correction, ‘novels’ I’m naive enough or deranged enough to believe I can write at least two simultaneously. This does not include the kids books, the TV documentaries or drama, the two screenplays, short stories, filth for a lads mag or nit-nat gossip for a woman’s gossip rag).

Where was I? I’m lost. Twelve minutes and thirty ,., no fourteen .. no five, one.. sod it. about twelve minutes left.

about, butu, but .. but u?

Intersting ‘Time Sheet’ Scary. Much of this explains where 2002 has gone.

An hour and a half on one, no two, emails. Hey, readers, My big sister might be joining us. She has .. I won’t tell you. Oh Feck. Why not. Her email to me, new, newly divorced, second time, reminded me of something I had forgotten. We had, (now have again) the same initials. Two marriages down, two daughters along, she reverts to the name she had as a kid, teen, twenty something (just). Same initials. Did our parents not realise how confusing this would be when the www came along?

What am I driveling on about.

Panic.

If I do this tomorrow I’ll do notes first, like an exam. This is like an exam. Answer five questions, you’ve got three hours.

Back to the ‘Time Sheet’.

(I had this hanging around my neck in one of those things you/we Europeans used to put our old passport style ski-passes in).

Makes sense? If not ask. You have my e.mail. No one ever e.mails me, eer leaves a note or signs that Guestbook thingey. Except Ghanima, Kat, the guy who is designing a ‘mature’ site ‘nothatugly’ and of course aall our friends at kidsay … and, GOd! This is like an Oscar acceptance speech and I haven’t made a note of the most important people in my Diaryland life. And I haven’t thanked my Mum (she doesn’t have a site), or my Dad … I think he does (he’s in south africa, go find him if youdare). And .. now I’m (disturbed).

That timesheet. This timesheet. The timesheet. Running out of feckking time. Highlights. Shit at 14h00. You don’t need to know that. 14h36 pee break,. Oh shit. Wank. Cack. I’m on this Detox. I can only do it if I drink s litres of Evain. Explains it?

Next.

Sunset. Crypt,

Feck, feck, 90 seconds,

Most important bit was that I got in an hor of straight fiction writing, novel re-invigorating, plot moving on, writing. An hours can get me 2,000 words. Subbed down leaves me with 1400. So I have another 1400 to add to the 15000 which makes ..

and I’ve go 29, no 23 seconds left to do a spell checkl and

An interesting exercise

six, two, one …. ahhd! Irritating beeps. I’m out of here!

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