The weather forecast for today was the best for two weeks and better than next week. We’ve had heavy rain, floods and almost continuous grey skies and strong winds, but today we were promised some sun so I took off to the Cotswolds.
I went first to Compton Verney, a country mansion that Peter Moores bought with his profits from football pools (gambling) to display his art collection. I didn’t go to look at the pictures. You have to pay to get in and anyway I’m not that interested in art any more. I used to be, but that’s a different story. I went, as is often the case these days, to see a girl but she wasn’t there.
Then I went to Upton House to photograph their guide books. You can’t photograph the pictures but their guides have small illustrations and explanations and I wanted to copy some information. I was told I couldn’t photograph it but could get the image off their web site.
Two failures so far, but there were a number of successes for the day. First I found a couple of useful books in Leamington, one especially helpful. Can’t tell you what it is as that would spoil the plot. The other success was that on the way home I had a drink at the Dirty Duck, a pub opposite the Royal Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford upon Avon. This has a terrace overlooking the river and I’ve often wondered whether it was full of actors when I’ve walked passed it in the past.
(Just as an aside I only discovered the difference between past and passed while proofing Time Crystal. Past refers to time while passed refers to space. Can’t believe I’ve lived nearly 60 years without knowing this elementary distinction!)
It turns out the Dirty Duck is full of just ordinary people talking about ordinary things and I stood on the terrace like a potted plant watching them doing it and feeling out of place and I decided that as well as joining writers groups I could also join an amateur dramatic group.
My whole life now is centered around writing, plotting, drama, characters, dialogue, story-telling. I need to meet people who share those interests. I realise that the chance of having a valuable relationship with anyone who doesn’t share those kinds of interests is pretty remote. I’ve met one who did but she’s gone off now doing other things and anyway she was too far away. And of course I should also talk to men about these things too. And a theatre or film company is the ideal group. Writing, as I’ve said before, is such a lonely occupation. Now I’ve done all the hard work on TC it’s time for me to make friends and get a life. The next four or five volumes should be relatively easy. I’ve written two chapters of volume 2 this week as well as entering all my accounting data for last year and catching up on outstanding BA work, so it seems like things will go fairly smoothly from now on. The characters are driving the plot now and I’m just sitting back and letting them do it. (Well not quite. I’m still having to do some research as you can see from the above, but it’s almost true.)
I’m not sure that writing has to be lonely. I can’t see why a group can’t write together. I ought to give it a try at some point and see if it can be made to work.
