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[personal profile] desperance
I went to Middlesbrough last night, for a crime gig in the newly refurbished library; they're hosting a whole string of events to celebrate its reopening.

Doing this took me away from here (literally here, I mean: this chair, this keyboard, this computer) from 4pm yesterday until 11am today. That's nineteen hours, which is the better part of twenty-four (again I speak literally, in terms of literary production: lunch-time and the early afternoon are the slow time, writing-wise; it's about losing impetus, and having to get going again). I do not mean to impugn libraries, which I love, nor Middlesbrough, which I'm sure I could learn to love - but there were six of us on the panel, and (discounting friends, partners and library staff) two in the audience. A more pointless exercise would be easy to imagine (deduct one), but...

Well, you get the point. That's a day's work gone, more or less. Still, I do get paid for the gig, regardless; and I did come home with an idea for a short story, which if I ever write it and if it ever gets published and if the feedback is good would lead to a slew of stories, so it may yet have been worthwhile. Maybe. We'll see.

Better, much better: we have been invited (I did not solicit this, so far as I recall) to take the "Phantoms" event on the road, to Derby for Hallowe'en. Phabulous. I will post further about this when we've agreed terms and dates and such, but I am really pleased.
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