...He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
(The Waste Land, 15-16, T.S Eliot)
I have no idea why these lines stayed in my head all day today. I had to get out my copy of The Waste Land just to reread it.
It is scary how I just don't feel the same as that person who posted on my old blog a year ago. I've been retracing my steps. Doing a final edit on the oh-so ancient Betrayer and while I can see why so many enjoyed it, I wince and think I could have done so much better. I'm trying to work out an ending for another story which is a near complete rewrite of the original.
I'm sketching more and more of the Original Novel out in my notebooks and in computer files. I can see the characters more clearly. One of them looks up into the sky. I wonder if I'll ever get all my ideas written down.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter (The Waste Land, 18)
I've never wanted to learn how to play chess properly. I still don't.