I have been re-reading some Ray Carver recently. I think that he is my favourite short-story writer. The early Hemingways were great and I do love the late (and early) Fitzgeralds.
But, Carver seems to have a weight that was born of personal pain – and that, I think, makes him the winner.
As I’ve stated before, I often, after a hard day’s work, pop into my local bar for a beer and a chat. It’s not so much that I need an alcohol infusion – what I really need is a break between work (which is becoming more and more difficult for me) and home.
Another long stretch since my last post – basically, I haven’t had much to say and anyway, I have been busy trying to price up my Hobbit House.
I’m more and more convinced that the Hobbit House is the right way for me to go – I want it to be the last house I ever live in (the cats don’t like moving), so it’s important that I get it right).
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