Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Street papers, story time and our house.

1. I have been beating myself round the head for failing to pick up a copy of The Guardian on Saturday -- my own brother had an article in it. But Nick calls to say he has found a still-wrapped copy in the street.

2. I am keying a typescript, and I lose track of time. I have to dash off at an intriguing moment -- a stranger in a tall silk hat has just asked the little girl (the author of the memoir) if she sleeps in her white kid button-up boots. What will she say, and who will he turn out to be?

3. I never get sick of people walking into our flat and exclaiming at how large and airy the living room is.

2 comments:

  1. One of my things, coming here to read yours.
    Another one; finding amusement that the author of the story is wondering what one of the characters will do.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Joe -- it wasn't actually my story. It was a typed manuscript that I was putting into a computer document.

    But not knowing what the characters are going to do next happens more often than you'd think.

    ReplyDelete

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