Within “Ten Minutes”

…and increasingly I wonder why I bother with Twitter life is too short I think as I scroll down and I’m still on it mostly because many readers expect you to be and can find you there easily but I prefer to devote my social media time to my blog here or Instagram until Twitter someday gets fun again but who am I kidding that’s not going to happen oh come on really?…

…what I do is privately I loathe writers who are supposedly so organized and so together who tweet things like that because I don’t want to believe you because aside from a vague outline of what I plan to write about and character sketches which assuredly will evolve mostly from hours and then days and weeks and even months of keyboard-tapped brainstorms that I then cut and paste and I’ll redo that and pound into shape and she is just too noble there stop it do you have a little crush she needs some faults and where was Jefferson living in January 1798 and I’ll give Sting a rest today hey I’ll put on Patrina Morris’s new songs I got off iTunes on Friday night…

…I work from chaos like that I think as I close aggravating Twitter on my iPad to check happy Instagram and begin to scroll through your photos and like a bunch and perhaps give myself a creative jolt and I pause at one as I think I could use another coffee and to do that I have to go down a flight of our 1680s English cottage’s steep and uneven stairs from the converted loft office and…

…I see she’s climbing bl-ody mountains in Nepal and I admire that and feel embarrassed at how inferior I feel and seconds later I also notice yet once again…

…that beards are apparently still a big thing but I’ve already tried the bearded guy thing pal…

…and it’s just not for me and I wonder what famously bearded Hemingway would have thought of Instagram when my previous post comes to mind as I click around and oh look she has been to the Vatican…

…and given God and our ultimately insignificant places in the universe what does anything we do really matter and I glance out the window at the telephone pole and wonder if I’ll ever be able to do this again but I realize I should feel a sense of real achievement at having completed four novels since 2013 that readers seem to enjoy and I’m proud those books will be in my obituary although I know they aren’t perfect but nothing is flippin’ perfect and this will be five if I ever get to grips with this mess in front of me and finish it and looking back down at the iPad and scrolling Insta more I see the pleasant Miss Gunn has been to Gaucho in Hampstead…

…and wow yes I could use a drink but it’s far too early and then I look again at my Microsoft Surface keyboard as I put the iPad back down on the desk and tap tap tap wildly on that Surface because suddenly I think I have a new I hope good idea and I want to get it on the pages on the PC before I lose its gist and luckily I do get it down semi-coherently and that’ll do for now thanks to Lotte’s wine pic there and gosh how our minds work and I pause and pick up a paperback of my late-1700s extravaganza magnum opus most recent novel to locate a scene I’m trying to recall in detail because I have to keep the continuity so do need to come back to this book on occasion to remind myself of what I wrote a year or two ago and as I turn pages I find myself drawn into reading something I wasn’t looking for and it’s “Caroleena”…

[Photo by me, a little while ago, 2018.]

…and my uncle jumps to my mind and I imagine him lecturing me how this needs to be turned into a screenplay and he knows a screenwriter and she’s fantastic and I think yep he always knows a woman and he asks me where did I get those women geez because I couldn’t have just conjured them up out of thin air no way and as he says that I think I had not felt that they were sourced from real women as women in my first three books certainly were but because fiction is always fired even subsconsiously by what we see and experience and whom we know and have known and if I am totally honest I do know generally who inspired three of them in particular including “Carolina” but I’m not telling him or anyone else and abruptly he suggests one could be portrayed by a little-known yet twenty-something actress who’s French-Brazilian-Lithuanian or maybe Latvian but he gets those last two countries mixed up now and then and he knows he can be such an American at times it’s embarrassing and he and “François” have discussed her because her father is some hotshot at a big French company and the guy wants to write too and while he’s okay he’s not a great writer and have I heard of that actress given I live in England and I sense he’s now fully moved into veteran author holding-forth-at-the-bar mode and likely Sir Sean Connery will be mentioned soon once again but I listen respectfully as always because “Hemingway” loves to talk like this and God I so miss him now and…

…I miss Mom even more and yesterday was also Mother’s Day in the U.S. and I think now how she would have interrupted his pompous carryings on there by cutting him down in her younger sister fashion that he’s old now and what is he doing fixating on twenty-something French-Brazilian-Lithuanian maybe Latvian actresses for God’s sake he’s a moron and he’ll never change and that’s why he’s divorced and when is he gonna actually write another damn book and I realize this is why I write too I do in their memory and that of others and to entertain readers and perhaps also teach a little and what the heck am I doing I’m procrastinating I should get downstairs and finally make that second coffee and this will be a second cappuccino this morning in one of our new Le Creuset cappucino mugs we’d bought at the Bridgend Designer Outlets while driving back from Wales last week and Patrina is still singing from my iPhone so I’ll take her downstairs…

[Photo by me, 2018.]

…and I think I should put up a new blog post as I haven’t had one since last week but I don’t know what to write about wait hang on hold it for a second I know I got it I’ll post about what I was doing and thinking about for about 10 minutes between 7:45 and 7:55am and I’ll do it in a stream of words and absent most punctuation because that will be pretty different from other posts but I hope too many readers don’t find it annoying and that at least some might even laugh a little maybe but who knows…😂

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Author: “Conventions: The Garden At Paris,” “Passports,” “Frontiers,” and “Distances.” British Airways frequent flier. Lover of the Catskill Mountains...and the 1700s.

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