Sorry

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I am sorry to say, Anna, that I read a bit more of Hector's chapter in bed last night. This was only because I had finished my current novel: Of Love And Hunger (a belter) and did not want to start another book.

Apart from the spelling mistakes and poor grammar he might have something of a story here.

The hero - or perhaps I should say main protagonist - is called Gervaise. And it is he who was standing on his desk when his wife got back with the shopping. She thinks he is going mad but it is a clever ploy - for reasons that have not, up to now, been made clear.

There has been a few flurries of snow today. I don't think it will stick. It rarely does around here. I think we've got the chemical works to thank for that.

I have been a bit 'wobbly' over the past few days but have felt better today.

I know this is a rather boring post but even I cannot be scintillating all the time.

I know that there are major political and environmental issues to which I could be applying my mind - and commenting but I don't feel like I have anything original to add. Well, I do, but it would take a while to write and I am sure you have better things to do.

Sometime I will let you have my thoughts on Life and Death. They are many.

Reading Hector's book has made me want to write again. But what shall I write about? I have so many novels in the pipeline that I fear it has become a little clogged.

Do people wear clogs in Sweden? The place where I was born was a mining village, so clogs were commonplace. I never had any though. We were a cut above that sort of thing (?) I can remember though, being woken at 5am on a cold winter's morning by the clatter of clogs as the miners' early shift passed under my bedroom window on the way to the pit.

Now, that's what I could write about. My life story? Would you like that? In fact I have already written a large piece of it but it is (obviously) very personal. Still - what the hell.

I could sort of serialise it, here on this blog. What do you think of that?

All the best with the revision.

Your loving George