Dragging My Feet

Look at me, slacking off with my blogging. Things went so well during Blaugust. Now I’ve fallen off the wagon and am dawdling along behind, finding excuses to delay.

 

My Japanese 2016 planner, the hobonichi techo, arrived last week. I confess that I decided to buy one because I found out it used the fabled Tomoe River Paper: thin as a breath but able to withstand the most powerful fountain pen ink. Besides that, the A5 (“cousin”) size comes with monthly, weekly and daily pages, which is a rarity in planners – but it doesn’t make the hobonichi too thick or heavy because Tomoe River Paper is so thin and light. The hobonichi company were good enough to provide English translations of days for 2016, as it has become quite popular in certain circles. I’ve slipped a New Yorker postcard inside the outer cover of mine, and I’m sort of in love with it.

 

 

Reading of Satantango continues. When I decided impose a book club upon some friends, I had this idea that it would get me reading more often, instead of playing video games or wasting time online or whathaveyou. On reflection, if I had intended this to work I should have picked a book that was less intimidating. Whenever I think about reading it I make a whining sound at the back of my mind. It’s not even a bad book, it’s just not an easy read. I’m taking notes as I go and am drafting a review, so expect that hopefully before the end of the month.

 

Novel continues on at a snail’s pace. I have come to be satisfied by banging out 200 words without deleting them – better than nothing, and I’m telling myself I can always delete them in the next draft. I have reached the point where, at all costs, the novel must progress. THE NOVEL MUST PROGRESS.

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