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[Previous entry: "The universe hates me (sob!)"] [Next entry: "Ashes" ]

Writing, specs & TV

7 September 2005

It still seems to me extraordinary sometimes, that here is this thing that Iíve been doing more or less continuously for forty-odd years, commercially for twenty-eight, and somehow - sometimes - it can still be just so much fun. Iím still working on the Taiwan novella, and Iím having a breeze. A thousand, fifteen hundred words a day; time was, when that was a morningís work and Iíd be looking for three times that before bedtime, but times change and so do people. Iím happy with a thousand.

There are penalties, though, to being happy. It makes everything else feel easier; which means that the purse-strings slacken, because Iím having fun, and half the definition of Ďhaving funí is spending money. So I go to town and buy things: books and batterie, smoked garlic and sea salt, what can I say? And thatís the least of it, the very least. Those of you who know me will not be in the least surprised to learn that my current obsession with eyesight drove me eventually into an opticianís. Well, actually to every optician in town, till I found a pair of (relatively) inexpensive glasses that I thought I could probably live with. And so I had the eye-test that I needed, and hereís something to make the cat laugh: indeed, she hasnít stopped giggling since she heard it. Why does my prescription suddenly feel wrong? Because Iíve reached that age where actually I need two prescriptions. For some years now Iíve been watching friends fumble and curse their way between two separate pairs of specs; now I get the first intimations that I am doomed to join them, or else go varifocal. Not quite yet, the nice optician thought he could probably fudge it one more time and I was happy to go along with this, but itís there, it canít be fudged for ever. Eek.

And meantime - double-eek! - the possibility has arisen of my participation in a TV pilot. Those of you who are crying ĎDisplacement activity!í or simply ĎNooo...!!!í can hold your horses; thereís a selection process, and Iíve barely engaged with it yet. Photos must be sent (hah! thatíll be that, then). But it does sound fun, and right up my street: go to some unnamed European city and solve puzzles, crack codes, decipher clues. All very Da Vinci, and why not...?

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© Chaz Brenchley 2005
Reproduced here by permission of Chaz Brenchley, who asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this work.