A lovely, relaxing ten days in France leaves me wanting more time and space to write.
Paris and the legendary Shakespeare and Co bookshop whose owner published James Joyce and which has remained a centre of literary activity since, reminded me I want to write a brilliant novel one day.
Exciting things await on my return here- like a Saturday Live programme and poem to write with Suggs from Madness as the studio guest. Plans afoot for me to be the resident Twitterati at the Durham Book Fest and various other things related to speed of thought, response and writing.
But the novel will be slow I think. Even though I usually write quickly. And it will be quiet, unlike the chatter of the web and people.
I may artfully try use this placement to gain time again now. Days for thinking and writing. Quiet, white spaces like the white room that Maud LaMotte fantasises about in my favourite novel, Possession.
The young writers group and nexus of volunteers continues to feel like a positive, growing collaboration of people. At the moment, the best advice I could give all of them as writers is-give yourself the space and time to write. Apparently six writers are currently sleeping among the books at Shakespeare and Co (I saw the little red, velvet chaise longues). They’re giving themselves time, space and inspiration, if not neccessarily comfort. And working for it by serving in the bookshop a few hours a day. As ever, tis balance we must seek as writers. Though a room of one’s own doesn’t go amiss either.