Tuesday, 6 May 2008

Fear and loathing in Cambridge

Cambridge was basking in sunshine today: wisteria blossom dripping from Sidney Sussex railings, cow parsley, marsh marigolds and lady's smock in Sheep's Green, birds twittering in the willows. And yet my mood was anything but bright today.

Bouts of self-loathing, existential angst and general fury with the venality of the world are no doubt vital parts of any artist's make up, but writing requires a calmer spirit than I have at the moment. If I was writing an angry, existentialist novel of self-loathing, then it might help, but I'm actually writing the follow-up to the as-yet-unpublished Tales of Terror from the Black Ship.

The new book is another set of chilling stories with another story linking them all together and will hopefully sit nicely with the previous two. Do I mean nicely? Horribly: crouch horribly as if ready to pounce.

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