Thursday, March 16, 2006

We did some rainstomping today. Wellies and all. Fred and Una Pearl like the rain.

Where did Eglantine come from? Was she always there, walking down that corridor in a cool house in summer? Did she find me or did I find her? Does she come from within, from all my collective experiences - things I've read, seen, been, done? Or is she from without, from a kind of collective, intertextual consciousness (now that's deep)? For me writing a book is the same as reading one - I'm desperate to find out what happens next.

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