the enigma of arrival

And then I discovered that to be a writer was not (as I had imagined) a state -- of competence, or achievement, or fame, or content -- at which one arrived and where one stayed. There was a special anguish attached to the career: whatever the labor of any piece of writing, whatever its creative challenges and satisfactions, time had always taken me away from it. And, with time passing, I felt mocked by what I had already done; it seemed to belong to a time of vigor, now past for good. Emptiness, restlessness built up again; and it was necessary once more, out of my internal resources alone, to start on another book, to commit myself to that consuming process again.

-v.s.naipaul


Thanks to Peggy Payne for recommending this wonderful book.

cathedral (was thursday's snow)

This photo was taken yesterday afternoon, but by this morning the sunshine was replaced by white skies and snow. I had a series of lovely snow photos all set to go but messed up and deleted them from both camera and laptop.

So I'm back to the cathedral, assuming that somehow it's the right thing to focus on today.

The lovely snow has shifted to icy rain, and is getting mushy.

frozen solid

This is about how cold it feels out there today. Horses in blankets, cats by the woodstove, corgyn sticking close to their people.

The crows were in full force in the front field but maddeningly took off when I appeared oh so quietly through the front door. Daughter says "just deal with the fact that they don't want their picture taken!"

Ha. I guess I should.

forgotten pumpkin

Winter continues, after a weekend of respite. The horses stayed in blankets all day long, and even though the sun was bright, the ice I removed from the water tubs is still lying broken on the ground.

Taking a walk outside today, listening to the ground crunch beneath my feet, I noted the forgotten pumpkin lying at the woods' edge. It made me think of autumn - all the color and wonder now cast aside for this colder season.

opening lines

This is a blatant writing exercise designed to build up some steam for tonight's writing session, in which I officially return to The Schedule, on Sunday evening as opposed to Monday morning, simply because tonight's task is the more enchanting one.

Ten books from a nearby shelf, all novels. Author/title/opening sentence.

I find these kinds of things fascinating. If you're reading this and not a writer, it might be less so, but I hope it captures your fancy in some unexpected way.

James Salter - A Sport and a Pastime: "September. It seems these luminous days will never end."

Ian McEwan - Atonement - "The play -- for which Briony had designed the posters, programs and tickets, constructed the sales booth out of a folding screen tipped on its side, and lined the collection box in red crepe paper -- was written by her in a two-day tempest of composition, causing her to miss a breakfast and a lunch."

A.S. Byatt - Possession - "The book was thick and black and covered with dust."

Michael Cunningham - The Hours - "She hurries from the house, wearing a coat too heavy for the weather."

Charles Frazier - Thirteen Moons - "There is no scatheless rapture."

Charles Frazier - Cold Mountain - "At the first gesture of morning, flies began stirring."

Michael Ondaatje - The English Patient - "She stands up in the garden where she has been working and looks into the distance."

Janet Fitch - Paint It Black - "Cold numbed the tip of Josie Tyrrell's nose and her ass, just outside the reach of the studio space heater."

Janet Fitch - White Oleander - "The Santa Anas blew in hot from the desert, shriveling the last of the spring grass into whiskers of pale straw."

Heidi Julavits - The Mineral Palace - "As soon as the Ford Touring Car crossed the St. Paul city limits on April 20, 1934 ("You Are Leaving St. Paul, Minn., Home of the Inlagd Sill Herring Festival, Please Visit Us Again"), and passed into the great, square-upon-square expanse of the surrounding farmland, Bena jotted down the odometer reading with the golf pencil she kept in the ashtray: 5.434."