Take me out tonight, because I want to see people and I want to see life

Have had a good few days of banging my head against the wall. Then I listened to last week’s Saturday Review on Radio Four and they reviewed a book by a guy who allegedly wrote it within a week whilst recovering from alcohol poisoning. Now okay, it’s called Sellevision and is about behind the scenes shenanigans at a cable shopping channel – not a book I would like to read or write. But it was being reviewed on Radio Four. Bastard. Meanwhile, not a great deal to report. Really nothing is happening. I still haven’t been out of the flat this year and nobody’s come to visit. I seem to be living my life by proxy, delighting or worrying over other people’s news. Or else I am living in a world of fictional characters. Actually, this isn't quite true. What I have done this last week? Apart from work on my novel I have… Been experimenting making suncatchers using real lead as an outline. This has led (bum bum) to a great deal of hand-washing and hygiene paranoia. I don’t really understand how dangerous the stuff is, but tend to be overcautious. I’m actually using latex gloves but my nails are long and together with the pliers and craft-knife I keep putting holes in them. Anyway, the leading does look really cool when I get it right. I have been looking at rose window designs to scale-down. Painted a piggy-bank for a small child. I am quite pleased with it; piggy-banks are often ugly things but mine is quite cute. Watched several films I hadn’t seen before; The Village (good – beautifully made, shame about the premise), Hostage (bad – it was called Hostage and starred Bruce Willis – I should have known better), The Producers (very bad) and Motorcycle Diaries (very good). Probably some others, I can’t remember. Begun reading Passage to India, one of the many novels I got for Christmas. Sampled Violet Liqueur which is the colour of methylated spirit and coincidentally tastes like meths with a load of parma violets mixed into it. See that’s five pieces of not-quite-nothing. And I am making some progress on my book. Right now, no amount of not-quite-nothing compensates if I can't write. I can't believe how demoralised I feel about this so early into the new year. Oh and the nightmares are back.