A Long History of Nearly Nothing
Have you read my book?* Whilst not in itself very long, it is a long cry into the darkness. A long (long) history of nothing. Well, nearly nothing. A self obsession, the pages ought to not be rectangular, but me shaped. Like a book for babies. Mine is no book for minors, however, although it reads like a man-baby squalling in frustration.
Well, I was frustrated. I am frustrated. Just one in a long list of emotions I am experiencing, none of them very nice. The next book – oh yes, dear reader, that threat looms – should at least be a story of something and of an equalish length. In fact it will be the same, a seemingly never ending series of these short …. dare I? …. vignettes. This time, I promise, with more coherence, less misery and fewer – HOORAY! – poems.
But here again; frustrated. I’m ready to start work on it. Everything is written, it just needs editing, selecting and organising. The cover art (N.B. this time the cover art is good. I didn’t do it) is done, it just needs making up into a cover.
Yet I do neither. And these things, what I write. I’ve had some excellent advice, about characterisations, voice, story, hooks, all sorts of things. Draw the reader in. Keep them interested with show-not-tell. Humour always reads well**. Describe evocatively, put them there, in it.
Yet I don’t do any of this. I am, I suppose, unable. Unwilling to do the hard slog. This time, I promise myself, I promise you. Yet this is the drivel, unaltered, unfettered, that is splurged uncaringly onto the page. Why? To what end? A self indulgent cry into the nothingness. I AM HERE I scream I AM HERE. How can one be so self obsessed and yet feel no sense of self. I sit, here. That cannot be avoided. Pessoa was wrong, I am not nothing. I am here. I am nothing except a presence.
I am worse than nothing.
Today I wrote between 19:22 and 19:32. I was prompted by an idea here.
*If you enjoyed this short writing, a whole load more are available in paperback, and kindle editions in your local Amazon site. Part 2 coming Summer 2019, sadly.
**Can you believe that I am funny? Or was. In real life. Wasn’t I? Aren’t I?