Round 2

Nailed the little b*st*rd to the canvas. As it were.

I mentioned in earlier post about coming across stuff and thinking, "Did I write that?" It works three ways.

1 - Wow, that's good, did I write that? (Disbelief)
2 - Wow, that's crap, did I write that? (Resignation)
3 - Wow, I don't remember writing this at all. (Old age?)

I had several of No 3 today. Whole sections I simply don't remember writing. It is an eerie feeling. I know no one else has had any part in writing this book (although a number of wonderful people have critiqued), so to come across passages of prose that fit perfectly with the whole text, but which I'm encountering for the first time puts me in the place of Charlie. No wonder she feels disorientated at times.

I'll stick to writing about temporal adventuring. Others are better equipped to walk those roads.

It does make me wonder, however, what state I was in when I wrote those passages. Being 'in the zone' is a much used phrase - losing all sense of self in one's work. I have been there. Sitting down after a meal, for example, looking at the clock and realising the whole afternoon has gone.

I have sometimes suggested that Charlie sits here and dictates her life story, lured to my den with the promise of hot, buttered crumpets (cos they don't make muffins like they used to) and strong tea. Perhaps, in a sense, that is exactly what happens. She is very real to me. I know what she looks like as an adult (go look at her blog for a picture). For goodness sake, she has her own blog. And why not.

I'm not sure if there is any point to this. I just hope she keeps visiting, because she has so much more to tell.