Nothing Much to Say I Guess

I haven't written here for a while. As a writer interested in narrative I wish I could say that my absence was due to some catastrophe; a burning building, a car crash, a bungled robbery. Unfortunately, my absence was simply down having nothing to say. I tend to go from highs to lows, a symptom of mild manic depression, and I think I have just been going through, or rather am going through a dip. At such times I find it hard to get enthusiastic about getting out of bed, let alone being creative. Hopefully tomorrow will bring a slightly better mood.

On the brighter side, I went to see Mark do a poetry reading at the university. I enjoyed that and have an idea for a poem inspired by hearing other people's poetry. It's based on a (funny - sorry any bird lovers) story in the news. Hundreds of twitchers had gathered to get a sighting of a rare Red-Rumped Swallow, that had been spotted. It was either lost or confused by global warming. Whatever the reason for its visit, it was a big deal for bird watchers. As the gathered bird fanciers focussed their binoculars they were treated to the sight of the Swallow swooping through the air. Unfortunately, it didn't swoop fast enough. Maybe it was distracted by the media attention, posed briefly for the cameras. In any case, a Hawk came down, grabbed it and ate it. The Swallow was swallowed.

Mark and I also had good news about the creative writing course we ran at Uppingham School. They have some students who want us to go back. I've just posted off the invoice for our workshop and hopefully we'll get the chance to go again.