Friday, May 20, 2011

Time was swallowed

I'm in the UK. More specificly, I'm now in Radcliffe-on-Trent, the village in which I grew up, which should herald whimiscal tales of youth. But, as I'm suffering from a cold and have only been out a couple of times they will have to wait until I feel up to telling the yarn of my birth amongst the squidlings (a story for another day).
We've already been to Edinburgh, where I had hoped to write during the day and see friends in the evening. As it was, my search for work for when I return at the end of June, escalated, grew tentacles and morphed before me, so that I ended up having numerous interviews for which I was not properly prepared. So my time was swallowed. Though I did get to go to my first Secret Society Event, where I was invested and then helped to raise a spirit. You can see whether or not we were succesful here.
A mysterious man at a mysterious event.
Now in Nottinghamshire, home of all things Robin Hood and Lincoln Green, I've come down with a cold. Obviously UK bugs are more virulent than Indian ones. I'm just starting to feel human again. So, once again, time was swallowed.
Next week I'm in London, and have many plans and visits set up with my father. No doubt, time will be swallowed.


An article I wrote for Edinburgh Libraries about John Connolly is now up and available on their rather good blog Word Up. I enjoyed putting the essay together and will endeavour to do some more, but where would one start? There are so many books, well known and obscure, that I like, that I could fill a book with them. I could fill a big book. A very big book.

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