“The Bells Are Ringing Out”



At 7am I am sat at the kitchen table reviewing two pieces of
work.  It’s the contemporary equivelant
of staring at the fire.  The flickering
is in my head.  The first,  1,500 words for Poetry Review
and the second 3,000 words for a book due in Holland next October.   I’ve been working on them this past month.  Both contend with  contentious matter. 

I’ve  crawled  through the terrain of the subject mattervon on hands and knees and 
placed  red flags next to each land mine
so others know.  But it is not my land per
se.  And there will be complaints by
those who want to use the land to build.  
I’m not saying they can’t.  All I
am saying is that it is dangerous and to be careful: the wounded are the last
to speak up. At 9am my finger hovers over the button and I press send.  As the emails whisk through cyberspace I throw
on my coat and leave.

First to Waterloo,  The Riverside Rooms at Southbank centre where
I drop my bags,  set up the computer and
then straight out back over the dividing river to Hammersmith,   to Jongleurs  - Britian’s premier live comedy empire – to
meet Maria Kempinska the figure head of the company.  From 11am we watch  and discuss comedy and comedians.  At noon I skip  across the road to Riverside Studios where Professor
Deirdre Osborne has brought  “ The
Emperors Watchmaker” for me  to sign. They are Christmas
presents. Bloomsbury no longer print my children’s books so she bought them
online for twice the price.   I run back to the Jongleus office and the  meeting with Maria continues to 1pm.

2pm Southbank Centre – lunch:   I Receive a call from the Southbank centre   press office.  The Times want an article. Four hundred words
by Wednesday 4pm.  At 3pm I sketch out a
rough skeleton for the piece then throw it in the oven to rise. With articles I find that I can do them in
pieces of time rather than throw them out. Next time I look at those words more will come to
light.

At 4.15pm  Jean
September from  South Africa  and her colleague,  both from The British Council, come to The
Riverside Rooms, my office.   Gill Lloyd my projects manager
and Rachel Holmes breeze in .  British council are
bringing five young writers to Britain and taking five young writers from
Britain to South Africa in spring 2010.   I suggest Inua Ellams (they’re already on it) and
in particular encourage  Jean to consider
Janine Van Rooy from Mitchells Plain in Cape Town.   The meeting ends at 5.30pm.

Tonight  is the workers shindig, a  Christmas party in the reception area of The
Queen Elizabeth Hall it kicks off at 7.30pm with an X factor spoof on a largescreen suspended
above the stage in which I am a dysfunctional contestant. Typecast again.  The
party peaks  on Alan Bishop the CEO and
Jude Kelly the artistic director  performing live   The Pogues  Christmas song.  That song  reminds me of  in New York in the snow.    It’s
cold outside,  The Thames glistens or
glitters or gazes  or glides or slides or
slips.   And with the  duet  in
my head    “the bells are ringing out for Christmas time”
I go  home.   

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