17 August, 2005

The Writing Room

Well, I am now the proud renter of a room just for writing. Small matter of a desk to be cleared up, but apart from that, I'm equipped. I'll have my first full day in there tomorrow, although I've sat there a bit and even checked the US White Time proofs there yesterday. And made a few tentative, does-this-really-work-this-room-thing notes for the novel. The interim desk is under a tall, narrow window looking out into a tree and across to next-door's roof, and I can look out the kitchen louvres practically to the mountains, through more trees. I'm rapt.

I finished Christos Tsiolkas's Dead Europe - crawled out from under all the blood and semen and excrement and corpses and ghouls, coughing from the cigarette smoke, nostrils stinging from the drugs, a bit hungover too. Still thinking about that one. Now I'm launching into Nike's new book (N. A. Bourke, The True Green of Hope, UQP), which promises pain right there on the front cover in the SMH blurb. So far (end chapter 1) nobody's been either buggered or turned into a vampire by their experiences. Come on, Nike, you're letting these people off too lightly.

Thought about reading Maria Tumarkin's Traumascapes in tandem, but you've got to draw the line somewhere, eh.


Blogger Among Amid While said...

Sorry, Nike, it was just a bit of culture shock after coming out of Christos's book.

There was some alcohol early in your book - that calmed me down.

I'm enjoying these people - I think Em is my favourite so far, with her habit of making her own kind of rules for the world.

"Eggs that need to remain unbroken should be put in an unused room. A bottle of Cointreau that is to be used for cooking Chocolate Cloud Cake on Sunday morning should be kept overnight in the laundry sink to remind you to put the shorts you want to wear on Sunday afternoon into the dryer."

These make perfect sense to me.

18 August, 2005 13:37  

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