The joy of procrastination (again)

I tend to operate within multiple layers of procrastination. So for instance I put off editing my novel for a day or two last week because I had put off working on a local newsletter and had to give in and do something about it as the deadline rushed past me. At the moment I’m once again putting off editing, which itself was a way of putting off the task of casting an online vote in a minor political poll, by writing this blog post. And everything else is naturally one big attempt to avoid housework.

dovecot

Corstorphine Dovecot

Quite amazingly, in a week where you only had to set foot outside most days to risk being blown off your feet by one of those named storms we seem to have to put up with now, drenched in a sudden downpour or being caught in a blizzard, I took part in a local event on the one day when it was dry and the sun shone. I don’t really want to attribute this to the presence of a local minister, but I suppose that’s a possibility. I was just getting out of my car when I noticed how pretty the dovecot looked with blue sky above it – the picture is a little blurry because I was standing in the middle of the road when I took it and my hand must have been shaking nervously as I expected to be run over at any moment.

My feelings about the novel I’m editing are a little blurry as well. For some reason I’m liking the chapters that have a male narrator better than the female ones, but I’m not sure how the readers might react to this. As it is the fourth in a series that isn’t all that popular, I’m hoping it works better than the first three, but I’m not sure about that either. As a history graduate I’m sure there must be a really good historical novel in me somewhere, but I always find it harder to write historical stuff than anything else, maybe because I am too conscious of how complex history is and how nobody can possibly ever get it right! It’s a bit like golf from that point of view, I suppose, and just as my parents kept on trying to play golf better despite never being able to get it right, I expect I will stubbornly persist in writing historical things.

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