I used to sometimes feel as if I might fall from the edge of the world. It would happen in the middle of the night, without warning and nobody would notice. The idea didn’t frighten me: I’d given up on being afraid and begun saying I was depressed; and for some reason I hadn’t picked up an interest in alcohol, or drugs to compensate. Somehow I accepted that I would simply, if awfully, vanish. Then, in a scene like one of those in films where the film jerks to a halt and everything freezes I realised I was wrong. It felt as if I was clinging to guard-rail at the edge of the world, a metal post buried in concrete like one running along a sea wall, in a storm, waves rising above me like horses and I had lost my footing. I stopped thinking too much in metaphors, came back to London, and got on with it. So don’t you drop off either.
It feels as if there is nothing there. There are so many things I could write about but the ‘something’ I am looking for hasn’t occurred to me yet. It’s not a bad place to start writing, but one where people usually stop. After all, what can you do if there’s nothing to do? Before I began this I could have written about David Cameron’s ‘arm candy’, whether there’s something anti-Semitic or anti-Islamic in all of the pig-presence in the news lately … but these were just thoughts in my head brought to me by some things I’d been reading, some conversations. Continue reading “Nothing There: A Cure for Writer’s Block and Other Things”