I need something. Something new. Something to inspire me, to lift me up and set me down facing a new direction. Music? That might do it, but what? A new place perhaps, somewhere unexpected that I might stumble upon. Narnia? (Excuse me while I giggle into yet another latte). I need something new, something to fall in love with that will spur me on. The sky’s clear blue promise of spring fills me with a quiet yet unreasoning hopefulness – but hope of what? That much remains unclear. Not that I’m complaining; far from it! For the first time in I don’t know how many years, January is not imbued with drear hopelessness. Instead I have a bounce in my step, things seem clearer, sharper, cleaner. But still I need something, the psychological equivalent of marmalade, with that zingy tangy bitterness that wakens the palate. And after a week lost to over-tiredness and some highly questionable onion soup, I must step up a gear and GET ON with the writing/editing/imagining stuff. And I must find some lychees from somewhere.
Meanwhile, I am reading Jasper Fforde’s Shades of Grey. It is excellent, in a category inhabited solely by Jasper Fforde, and also deeply strange, and I’m sure it was responsible for the peculiar dreams that I tasted last night, but now cannot quite remember.