friends…

11 September 2004 at 15:01 Leave a comment

Last night I had a long, pleasant chat with my best friend.  We talked about all kinds of things, but, of course, my writing came up (she writes too) and mostly I complained that I wasn’t writing, but that I tended to find these ‘down times’ very fruitful. Anyway, it got me thinking about my writing in a very concrete way, and I realized that I haven’t done any writing in weeks! Not since an intensive poetry spurt, and then this morning it happened again: I dreamt the solution to a problem in one of my mysteries.

And it’s creepy and clever and good!

I don’t usually do creepy, and it was the kind of dream that should have upset me, but I woke up thinking and adapting and working on it.

So, that’s what friends are for: inspiration.

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Entry filed under: writing.

jam tart thief Arsene Lupin

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What I’ve been reading:

  • James Boswell, The Life of Samuel Johnson, L.L.D. (London, 14 King William Street, Strand: William P. Nimmo, 1876). 3 years ago
  • Marsilio Ficino, Letters of Marsilio Ficino, v. 3, trans. Language Dept. School of Economic Science, London (New York: Gingko Press, 1985). 4 years ago
  • Italo Calvino, Six Memos for the Next Millennium (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1988). 4 years ago
  • Stephanie Kallos, Broken for You (New York: Grove Press, 2004). 4 years ago
  • Marsilio Ficino, Letters of Marsilio Ficino, v. 2, trans. Language Dept. School of Economic Science, London (New York: Gingko Press, 1985) 4 years ago

T. Anderson Painter

I am a misanthrope. No one ever believes me, but this seems to prove my point.

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2003-2013 T. Anderson Painter
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