Time

It has been a while. Time has flown by.

I don't really have the time for this, which probably has something to do with it. Yet I don't really do anything particularly productive. I am not saying that I am unproductive, but rather that unless I put all my efforts in, I tend steam along like a lethargic, lazy train.
This is an abrupt eruption of creativity. Don't know how it will end. It feels like I have finally managed to actually pick up the phone and attempt to make a call, after having been meaning to all night. Tuttt...This here, now, this place, this time, this moment: this is me dialing.
The outcome determines who or what answers.
This is what I call communication.
Ask me not what I am talking about.
Stuart: A life backwards was quite good. Finished it a while ago but obviously haven't thought about it a great deal. I mean I have in a way, whilst walking down the road, or maybe while washing my feet in the shower and eating my dinner. But I haven't really analyzed it the way Dr.Z probably would have. (Who by the way won't post until I do so first.)
I liked the book a lot. It is innovative and very original. The narrative and humour make it a particularly exciting and funny experience, which gradually leads you to the already known, inevitable end. It is moving, of course. What interests me more is the slightest glimpse of what may be described as a new wave of young English writers. It is undoubtedly overstimated, pretentious and unable to provide proof for the reference to a wave. Yet Richard Benson's book The Farm, whose fame sky rocketed thanks to Richard & Judy, also belongs to this 'wave'. It is about something pure, about something systematic trying to destroy that. That also goes for Alexander Masters and Stuart. It is greatly encouraging I think, especially as both of them are attempting to fight in their own ways.
Listen to an interview on Guardian podcast of both these authors discussing their particular books. I am considering reading The Farm. But like I said, I have no time.
No answer. Gonna go home.

M.M.