Midnight

I have had the opportunity to enjoy a great deal of time alone these last few days but I haven't made best use of it.

I am toying with the idea of starting a novel. I know that this seems glib of me seeing as the idea would require action alongside things such as my tendency for inaction, my musical escapades, the imperative of looking for work, living under the threat of a financial implosion and managing the fall-out from my ever reacting marriage.

I want to write. I quite like the idea of being an impoverished artist for a while. Not forever though. Some material comfort does have an appeal especially as I can glimpse the coming of my advanced age, a place in time where physical comfort is definitely proportionate to wealth. I am reading around novel writing at the moment: E.M. Forster's Aspects of the Novel, John Mullan's How Novels Work. Very daunting. Credibilty and Beauty are success criteria, but must not be the objects of pursuit. These things can only occur when that most unnatural medium, the novel, becomes a thing completely natural of itself. One thing I've learnt from Forster is that:

Plot = Story + Cause; Story = Character + Action + Time; Natural = Believeable Characters (Flat and Round) + Logic and Mystery.

There's a sort of irony in this as I seem to be all cause and no story. I have lots that I want to say but am at the place where I need character to say it. And I need Characters to say it too. One thing I think I can do with this blog is being to create a scrap-book of people, behaviours, situations, things that may help with my yet un-written desires.

I'll think about it. Good Night World.