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Breeding Lilacs Out of the Dead Land

Well, it’s April — the cruellest month and all that — and rather than breeding lilacs out of the dead land (whatever that might involve), or mixing memory and desire, or doing any of the other things that literary types should be getting up to in April, I’m going to be spending the next few weeks as writer in residence here on Necessary Fiction. And, looking back at those who have sat in this gilded chair in the past (I bet you didn’t know that Necessary Fiction provides an actual gilded chair for every single writer in residence), it is very good to be in such illustrious company.

So, what’s the plan? Well, in between stirring dull roots with spring rain and making sure that the Dog is kept far hence, I’m hoping to spend the next few weeks doing a number of things. Firstly, I’ve talked a few great writers into contributing some intriguing, entertaining and diverting stories and reflections. There may even be an interview or two if I get round to it. Secondly, I’ll be chatting on about some of my various projects that are on the go, starting with my book The Snorgh and the Sailor, which will be published on day two of my residency, taking in various diversions through impenetrable philosophical thickets (it’s a habit that I can’t kick, and for which I can only apologise), spending a brief spell in the mountains of Bulgaria for an extract from my forthcoming novel, The Descent of the Lyre, and sharing a few odd little stories and reflections from the “novel of sorts” that I’m working on based on the Yijing 易經 or Chinese Book of Changes. And thirdly, I’ll be writing a few short pieces about the strange business of putting words down on the page.

I’m not sure how this will all cohere, nor am I sure that it needs to cohere; but I’m looking forward to it. Do feel free to comment on these posts as the month goes on, and I hope that the coming weeks prove not to be too cruel. Anyway: in my view, T. S. Eliot got it wrong. April isn’t the cruellest month: May is. When I’m not writing, I work in a university teaching creative writing students. This coming May, I calculate that I will have 1/3 million words to grade… Now, that’s cruel…

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