Confessions of a Word-aholic: Kathleen Jones
Since then, I've been a compulsive communicator. And compulsive is the word. In fact, there's a label for it and I think it ends in 'aholic', and has nothing to do with the amount of wine I drink (though, on the other hand . . . .)
|Kathleen, swanning around in the Piazza|
When I tell people I'm a writer and I live in Italy, they always say 'Lucky you! How wonderful!' and think it's all coffee breaks and wine on the terrace overlooking the Mediterranean and swanning around in the Piazza. But it's not. The 'living in Italy' bit probably would be, if the writing part of it didn't get in the way. As Cally Phillips mentioned in her blog yesterday, the downside of being an Indie author is that it's all down to you. You have to turn yourself into a multiple personality. If you're not careful the business side of it can be all-consuming, leaving little time for actual creative writing.
|Cover of new biography Photo Ray Troll|
Then there’s the courses I agreed to run this summer - sometime in December or January when it all seemed a long way away and of course I’d have the book finished by then? There are two of them; an online course in life-writing for Cally's Edinburgh E-Book Festival (Free to all participants) and a residential course here in Tuscany. They both need notes and handouts and a course programme, and Yes, Cally! I will definitely have it done by Saturday!!
|Writing at Peralta, Tuscany.|
When, oh when, am I going to be able to say No to anything? I need my brain scanned to find out if there’s a fragment of commonsense to be found anywhere inside my skull! There’s a novel sitting on the end of the desk that needs to be edited and a couple of poems I’ve been asked to write and a story that’s burning its way across my brain - and I’m pinning pictures to Pinterest? Anyone know a good therapist?
Meanwhile, my house is beginning to resemble Miss Haversham's drawing room and I'm about a millimeter away from disproving Quentin Crisp's theories on the accumulation of dust.
Time ...... That’s what I need.... time to sit on the terrace and drink the wine and the coffee and just enjoy being alive. There are times when you forget that you need to live a little. The hamster has to get off the wheel and look at the sunset. There’s that tempting little bistro in the next village that does really good tordelli. And then you remember the tax return. ........ B@&%*£#!!!!
Find out more about Kathleen's books at www.kathleenjones.co.uk
Kathleen blogs at A Writer's Life
and you can find her Amazon page here....
I'm about 60 slots into the 164 that have to be scheduled. 40 still to be written by me. My work always comes last of course. And Dennis will keep me guessing till the last minute I'm sure! So yes, on the 'too much to do' front I guess we're all members of that group right now (and always) Anyway, Kathy thanks for getting it done AND see, I used my coffee break to read your blogpost!!! Back to work now. So much choice of what to do... so little time to do any of it. No time for distractions though. Or thoughts of Italy.
I envy you the Isle of Gigha, Catherine - could do with a spot of solitude. The trouble with living in a really beautiful place,is that there's no motivation to go anywhere else.
I'm not sure about Dennis's time management course! Suspect the person running it might just tell us that we're trying to push a quart into a pint pot, or its metric equivalent.
But yes, the hamster needs to get off the wheel and look at the sunset. And I'm finally off to do just that - it's Friday night and the Piazza waits!!!!
Equally strangely a friend came and sat with me and read me psalms. I didn't ask her to do it. It was her idea and I have to say the combination of her quiet voice and the power of words that weren't my own did the trick. It took a few days for me to be able to speak again, but the whirlwind was gone and the fear had disappeared.