So I have dragged myself into another spurious new year, and, tired to my bones, long for something different, something completely new. Not this same old same old village, however wonderful it is, not this same feeling of crawling from one day to the next, but a different landscape, unknown paths, strange architecture, new questions, an altered striving. And, bearing in mind the disastrous election result in December, and the appalling state of politics in England, a different country, a new language. But where can we get away from right-wing extremist populism anyway? Maybe there is no escape (he says, house sale having fallen through).
The New Year should start on 1st April, regardless of how cruel April might be, regardless of April showers, April Fool, April this and that.
And here it seems like the days should be much longer already, but they’re not, and the sun is still sadistically weak, and Betelgeuse going supernova may well be another 100,000 years away, rather than a few weeks, so there’s not much excitement coming from the skies either.
Is it a reflection of my getting older that I crave excitement and newness all the time, or is it just me reacting to the pressures around me that demand life run its course as quickly and unboringly as possible? It’s an impossible question to answer, and as I meander my way through my thoughts on this odd day off in the middle of January, all I can think of is that I’ve not yet re-established the rhythm of the days, that I’ve actually forgotten how to create something new for myself to get excited about. I must remember that I’ve not put my mind to actually writing a new book since I finished the last one at the end of July, and that I need to order the rest of my life in order to be able to throw myself into the chaos of writing another world into being (although, actually, the next book is supposed to be non-fiction).
It’s been exciting and gratifying to see The Immortality Clock (link in sidebar or in Signed Books) out in the wild, and to have some direct messaging conversations with people reading it, and being able to answer their questions, and to guide them towards starting their own writing.
One thing I must admit is that I am finding politics draining at the moment, and have done so for the past almost four years. But I think we as writers have a responsibility not just to fight for the worlds we create, but for the world that we live in.