I’ve always had this weird aversion to sundays. It’s one of my earliest memories. Bad things always happen on sunday. I forget that there is homework to do for monday and sunday night becomes a mixture of terror and maths and hoping that i’m not being a huge disappointment to anyone. For anyone else I know sunday is a relaxing day of rest before the weekly grind begins again. Games and films and hangovers and fun things with fun people. And if I am hungover then it can be that. If I wake up at someone elses house then usually it starts of as an amusing day. Gathering thoughts and memories of the previous night. Drinking cups of tea and half watching stupid garbage on the television. But sober sundays are nightmares, to me at least. Sundays are fear and loss and despair. Sundays are death and attempted abductions. Sundays are memories of Lego and Bonnie Tyler. It’s the same reason that listening to the radio makes me feel numb. Not because it’s shit, which it invariably is, but because the sound of the radio is inextricably linked with sadness and fear and loss and Lego and death and missing cousins and sunday.
I’m not sure why this has all just come to the surface all of a sudden. The same way you feel as you leave a loud club and the lack of noise disorients you for a moment whilst your ears adjust to the absence of heavy bass and loud crowds. I tend to get quite addicted to being social. If I don’t get the chance for a while then I just lose my taste for it and fade back into hermitry. But that bit takes a while. And in between all of those bits I get that instantly recognisable sunday feeling. (I don’t know if hermitry is a word, but I like it and so it is a word now.)
I feel as though I should be writing more, But I have nothing specific to write about. So this is what comes out. I really don’t do enough writing.
For anyone who is interested, the novel I have been working on since last November is coming along at a very slow pace. I have bursts of energy with it that disappear quite quickly. I am basically stuck at a point where I feel as though the entire thing is shit. But I don’t know how to make it not shit. I feel generally quite happy with it when I am working on it. There are some parts that I am very proud of and then some bits that i’m not so bothered about. But they are sort of necessary to the story. And then because I can’t decide what I want to do with those bits, I stop trying and just get very down about the whole thing and the entire idea of being a writer. But if I can just write, whatever it is and however it comes out, then surely that is better than spending my time arguing with myself about my own abilities as a writer. At least I can perhaps work through some of those issues by writing about them.
I have started reading The Great and Secret Show by Clive Barker. And that is part of the reason why I feel so negative about my own work. I have a habit of comparing myself to internationally known and published writers and just immediately assuming that if my work isn’t as good as Chuck Palahniuk then obviously me making any sort of work at all is a massive waste of time.
This is probably going to become a regular thing now. I can’t think of a word for it, but this basic unpicking of issues that I find myself staring at. It’s a good excuse to write and I don’t feel as though I’m putting something else off if I’m working towards something like this. And who knows, maybe some good will come out of it.
Also, I wrote an article for my brother’s blog Alpha Signal Five. I reblogged the first part, but the second part is up now too and the third will be going up sometime in the next seven days. So if you are into Minecraft or Microsoft or just want to read something else that I’ve put together, here’s a link for you.
In a bit, kids.