Flying to Vancouver. At least, that?s how it feels at the moment ? a nine-hour flight gives the impression that a whole day is passing; as we near the end of the journey however, we change our watches and find the whole day is only just starting. It?s a sensory illusion ? the day that is, not the flight ? entirely constructed in the imagination, bounded by sleep.
In other words, before I waffle on too much, a long-haul flight offers a wonderful opportunity to reflect on the most banal. Day dreaming is positively encouraged, given that there?s nothing else to do (the three films have finished, the cards are filled, the email inbox is up to date etc). Soon, a slice of pizza will arrive and offer a way out of the doldrum, itself a little surreal given that it is only ? now ? 9 in the morning. Pizza for breakfast, whatever next.
So, it?s been a while since my last entry to this blog. Three months, if I?m not mistaken, and with good reason as all my spare writing energies were engaged in finishing the book. This is now done, and is (I understand) due out in a matter of a few weeks. I?m still in too deep, a bit like decorating a room I can still see every brush stroke. Already however, the details (and the painfully long hours) are starting to fade.
Which is good.