Well, well, well, I have taken putting off to a whole new level; I am astonished to see it is more than eighteen months since I last wrote here which is symptomatic of ‘since I last wrote at all’.
Of course, one does have to define writing. I have written letters to friends and family in Australia which are long with family and local news and indulge in a swipe or two at the state of the nation. I have written minutes for the Science-Fiction Group, Oswestry Library Friends and Leaf by Leaf Press. I have written to my MP, despite my conviction he is too one-eyed to consider any other position, cleverly constructed missives to which he must reply in person and not brush me of with a photocopy of party policy which I can easily access on my computer. I have written to media organizations complaining about a doubtful presentation of information and amid all of the bland and unsatisfactory replies have received one apology and action plan to improve which I have framed – it is worth the effort. I have written reviews and commentaries and, in large print, the talk I delivered on the History of Australian Immigration between the Wars. I have written notes to focus my learning on a MOOC about the Law of the Sea (currently studying Dangerous Questions. Why Academic Freedom Matters University of Oslo) I have written in my journals about ‘stuff’; lots of moans and groans and the occasional literary effort.
And there’s the rub! The real writing, molding words into functional, stirring stories and poems has stalled.