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Oct. 7th, 2005 02:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_elyanI find myself reading Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman, for the second time.
The odd thing, given the book's subject-matter, is that on both occasions, I have been to some extent displaced. The first time, I read most of it one weekend when I locked myself out of my flat, and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clarisinda and papaspoof were kind enough to put me up. Given that Neverwhere is about "people who have fallen through the cracks", it added an extra dimension to a deeply unsettling exepereince.
This time the displacement is less severe, in that I am merely out of the stream, of working life, sitting on my own little eyot as it flashes past me. It is still a strange feeling to be at liberty udirng the week, when you aren't used to it, and thus to read about a man who simply ceases to exist in his own life as another life he never knew existed engulfs me, is quite interesting.
It helps, of course, that Neverwhere is such a splendid read (although, I am led to believe, an indifferent TV series).
Now, to do some more writing of my own. We're on about 13,000 words since Monday, which isn't quite as much as I'd aimed for, but perhaps the original plan of 5,000 words a day was stretching the atrophied creative muscles a bit far...
The odd thing, given the book's subject-matter, is that on both occasions, I have been to some extent displaced. The first time, I read most of it one weekend when I locked myself out of my flat, and
clarisinda and papaspoof were kind enough to put me up. Given that Neverwhere is about "people who have fallen through the cracks", it added an extra dimension to a deeply unsettling exepereince.This time the displacement is less severe, in that I am merely out of the stream, of working life, sitting on my own little eyot as it flashes past me. It is still a strange feeling to be at liberty udirng the week, when you aren't used to it, and thus to read about a man who simply ceases to exist in his own life as another life he never knew existed engulfs me, is quite interesting.
It helps, of course, that Neverwhere is such a splendid read (although, I am led to believe, an indifferent TV series).
Now, to do some more writing of my own. We're on about 13,000 words since Monday, which isn't quite as much as I'd aimed for, but perhaps the original plan of 5,000 words a day was stretching the atrophied creative muscles a bit far...
