August 16, 2020

Bach on the Internet

Finished Knight of the Flowers last night in a wondrous overflow of writing. Sat on the sofa afterwards with gin in my hand, cursing God, I think, though the memory is addled. I feel there was immense sadness, whatever the cause. I try to keep faith pure, but in order to do that one must turn one’s face away from the world. I have been looking too much at the world. 

Had to examine my files to remember the books I’ve beaten into some sort of shape in in the last twelve months: Diving into the Moon, An Age of Silver, Jason of the Apes, the Nurseryman’s Wedding, Knight of the Flowers. Three of them are resurrections of ancient material, but still. Heroes All in Cloth of Rose is extant, but not fully revised.