As tomorrow is a holiday I can take two days to do today’s work. Or maybe I should do four days worth?
Perhaps absurd, but on heels of taking two whole days away (yikes), taking a third or fourth in a row seems extreme.
Writing fast allows little time for thinking, second-guessing or reconsidering – it is simply putting the brain, rather than the mouth, on spill-mode. Spill fast, spill much, spill everything …
Driving back from FortSaskatchewan yesterday – took old roads, highway 2A and side roads too, visited Wetaskiwin, Ponoka, Lacombe, Joffre. In that heavy rain, driving slower, taking in views, vistas I’ve seen many times before. Some not.
On the south-from Red Deer leg, I listened with fascination to an interview of Karl Ove Knausgaard – Norwegian novelist, about his six-volume novel. Sounds like an indigestible read – but the interview was a perfect treat.
As a writer – listening to writer – his process, his feelings about his work, his wanderings around inside his head, were inspiring in a ‘I’ve felt that way too’ kind of way. Risk of offence may be taken, unless I worry about that. Then its guts are lost, and nothing is worth reading at all. His writing fast without regard to his ‘considerations’ is brilliant …
His struggle, not my struggle, or even the same kind of struggle – but hearing about his struggle makes me realize how much two people from very different walks of life might have some things in common.
Did I mention I’m ¼ Norwegian?
column written/ published from Calgary
morning walk: 12C/53F, overcast and threats of more rain (then sunshine and heat the rest of this week), steady north wind and a train rumbling by, Gusta caught attention of several magpies – or was that the other way ‘round? We walked a new loop down a laneway where only one home showed signs that pride of ownership lived there – the rest were just too unkempt for enjoyment – so we won’t walk there again soon.