24 March 2000

I really should be working on customer call centres (see previous) but I've started on a draft of a play. Suddenly I remember all over again why I like, why I'm obsessed with writing. Blurred characters begin to come into focus, casually-invented details reveal their complexity, the contours of an imaginary world start to take shape under my fingers.

I'm trying to draft a theatre piece about two people who 'meet' in cyberspace. Their noms-de-cyber are, at first, EmilyD and SirGawain. So already I'm plunged into trying to remember Amherst from my one visit there (look it up on the web Alan) and fragments of Middle English from thirty years ago and 'The soul has bandaged moments'

'The soul has moments of Escape-
When bursting all the doors-
She dances like a Bomb, abroad,
And swings upon the Hours..'

and why the Lady seduces Gawain in the Wirral of all places and whether Emily Dickinson mentions girdles which form a prominent part of 'Gawain and the Green Knight' and...

And so excuse me, I must get on with some writing. Do have a plunge into an imaginary country or two yourself. It's a lark :)