I've no plans to play any April Fool tricks on you today, but it is an opportunity to reflect on the naive and foolish notions I've harboured about my writing. Like believing that fixing the problems identified in my novel would necessarily make it better, or that winning a short story competition with significant prize-money might launch my career. Or that doing what I loved would bring fulfilment. (If that sounds bitter, I don't feel it. I think it's being realistic about the disappointments, what – in Kleinian terms – you might call reaching the depressive position, which in the bizarre terminology of psychoanalysis, is actually a really positive place to be!)
Regarding my last post, the snowman lost his head yesterday, the revisions are going well and I haven't forgotten the blog posts I mentioned.
Meanwhile, I'll leave you with Kate and Anna McGarrigle on foolishness in love, and perhaps you'll share some of your thoughts about foolishness in writing.
Regarding my last post, the snowman lost his head yesterday, the revisions are going well and I haven't forgotten the blog posts I mentioned.
Meanwhile, I'll leave you with Kate and Anna McGarrigle on foolishness in love, and perhaps you'll share some of your thoughts about foolishness in writing.
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