Running Man

Time is running out, Charlie.

The saying goes “time is running out”, which suggests it’s been contained somewhere – an hour glass perhaps. As far as I can see, it’s not time, it’s man who’s running. I’m running, all the time, everywhere. Even on the net you can see me run between different blogs and events and people and communities and publications and tweets and back again. Most tiring, don’t you think? Maybe it’s the flu that I can’t shake but I’ve come, once again, to this point where I need to retract for a bit and focus on my writing at the expense of networking.

Which means that I’ve shut down my facebook wall though I keep my author’s page open as an information channel. I’m also not tweeting (except to announce), and, with a bleeding heart, I’m not participating actively in fictionaut for a while, which is and has been my favorite hang out. All this is a temporary measure until my sabbatical is over. Still, some people are trying to hold me back (thank you!):

Thanks Linden, Bruce, Kirsty, Marcelle and Christian, I appreciate your automatized concerns.

This sabbatical hangs over me like a second sun shining on my desk but also wagging a finger at me: “write, write, write”. How very German. This approach always makes me resist and want to lull in bed for hours at a time, staring at a small space at the ceiling that contains a far away galaxy, I just know it.

That’s us: an ungrumpy, cool group of crazy creatives.

My Berlin writing group that came out of a group convened by SAND, continues to bring me great joy and guarantees at least one piece per week because we don’t just chat, we write. First time I’ve ever done that and it works. The latest penguin pod entry, 911, a bloody story based on real events, comes from there. I’m indebted to Carol Reid for contributing her wonderful photo. (No link here because Carol is a writer without a web site – though she’s on fictionaut where she currently got a great story out – which probably means she’s getting work done instead of communicating with the masses.)

Update: in these next two weeks I’m writing an editorial piece for a great online mag; I’m trying to finish my novella; I’m still working away on a radioplay that doesn’t let me rest; I’m giving an interview to Červená Barva Press, I’m throwing stones in a river in January and I’ll continue gathering gastarbeiter. I will discontinue entries like the last one, because, as my missus assures me: “It’s not really funny and you’d better write something real.” Fine.

ritva means ritva.

To facilitate all that, I’ve got myself a bright red pillow for the chair in front of my writing desk. It’s from IKEA and it’s mysteriously called ‘Ritva‘ which I presumed to be Swedish for something both unspeakably cool and kinky but Google says it doesn’t mean anything unlike my daughter’s giant new bed (called ‘Malm‘, which means ‘ore‘ – how do they comes up with these names?). Enough of my private life already as I digress easily.

Also, I’m going to see “The Green Hornet” and “Morning Glory“. For years I’ve balanced my crush on Seth Rogen and Harrison Ford with an appreciation for Diane Keaton and Cameron Diaz. Manly choices, don’t you think?

Friends! Unfathomable followers! This was a journal entry, old style, typed with both hands in my mouth and my cat tail wrapped around the chair, I hope you enjoyed it and if you need a reading recommendation: get this fantastic book.

Me working on my Olivetti 32, sitting on red pillow.

In the next few weeks, while I’m writing elsewhere, my butt properly planted on that red pillow, we’ll have fantastic gastarbeiting by fantastic purple people: Susan Gibb, kill author, Frank Hinton, Kevin Myrick, Carol Novack

Cheers from Berlin,
Marcus Speh

2 thoughts on “Running Man

  1. awww, jules, you’re too kind. not so much willpower here. if i had more of it, i wouldn’t need to deactivate (makes me sound like a cyborg that word), would i? thanks for stopping by!

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