Friday July 4, 2008
So then. This is it for ‘journal of a writing man’. After ten years I still think it was a pretty good title, but I confess that the combined weight of 3,408 posts is a bit of a burden. The new journal–’and no cheese‘–is sitting there all empty, drawing breath and getting ready to sing.
When I close this entry I shall close this volume of the journal. Tomorrow I shall start filling the pages of the new one. The old archives will, of course, stay here where they are, spinning away merrily and available for anyone to browse. The notification will, for the time being, go out under the old name. Sometime soon I shall start a new notification list and close the old one. Plenty of time.
It’s an apposite point that–’plenty of time’. When you sit at your desk writing in a huge old volume the years feel heavy under your hands. Give it the kind of frustrated thump that comes from a momentary block and clouds of dust fly out, full of fidgetted time.
I’d thought of aiming for a completely different style. The style of this volume has changed over the years, let’s face it, starting out with literary ambition (an old friend told me “you are making a thing of real literary worth here” a few weeks after I’d started) and ending on a more human, every day note (“It’s the ordinary that makes up our lives, anyway” said another friend a couple of days back). Now I’m closer to it, though, I am content just to meander over to the new volume and wander off into its lovely clean and empty pages, just for the fun of it, just to see where it takes me.
I don’t ask for a less well-trodden path. Nor even for a new one. I’m happy if the going is reasonably easy, there are wild flowers on either side now and again, and night walking is safe. Given a good stout stick, of course.