Some theatre each day keeps the doctor away…

Diminishing Contemporaries

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Watching an interview with Dame Elisabeth Murdoch, given to Andrew Denton, and there was a part where they were talking about people who reach 100 finding that all their contemporaries have gone.  Which is what happens when one gets old, I suppose.

But there’s a novel in that, I think.  A monument of a novel.  An entire life.  I’ve no idea what the tone at the end would be, though.  And if I was going to write it, I’d probably want it structured like Infinite Jest or something.  But I won’t be writing something like that, probably.

Not that that’s a plot, either.

It’s weird.  Having the idea spark in my mind during the interview, it seemed much better before I wrote it down.  But that’s always the way.

I feel like I had something else to write about…

Nope.  It’s gone.

Letter 27/whatever in Clarissa.


Written by epistemysics

December 7, 2012 at 1:49 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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