Deja Vu

Summer 2008 - a whole two years ago now, would you believe! - was the last summer I spent back home in Shetland for the full three months. I remember very little of it because I was mostly bored shitless. I do remember, though, that to combat fuck out of this boredom, I read a hell of a lot of books.

See what I mean about deja vu?

Anyway...

In the first couple of weeks home, I was getting through a book every two days or so. Again, they were books I'd acquired as far back as 2005 but never quite got round to reading for various reasons, so I took it upon myself to finish as many of them as possible during that summer before 3rd year loomed. In the first two weeks of this regime I finished seven or eight books, but got no writing done.

The same has happened this year. On lunchbreaks at work I've been consuming the many, many books I've been forking out for from Fopp, but little writing has been done. Today, though, I left 'Les Mis' sitting in my handbag (the oh-so-spacious Radley my Auntie Iz bought me for my 21st) and instead took out a notebook containing a plan I'd conjured up earlier this year. Just lately I'd been thinking over more scenes from this particular story and was itching to try and get them down on paper so I didn't completely forget them. As always with me, it didn't work out entirely the way I planned, but rough ideas are better than nothing...