The Biotic Man

We're using Thame's library again after a long break; driven by the need to feed India an ever-changing selection of books. She loves books.

I'm currently reading Rubicon ('The Triumph and Tragedy of the Roman Republic') by Tom Holland -- a rip-snorter of a history book, with colourful shocks on every page -- and Jack Heffron's Ideas for Writers.

Since the demise of starlines, I've avoided "how to write" articles, but Heffron's opening two chapters has already fuelled my desire to put pen to paper. He lists the top ten enemies of writing, and top of that list is the Procastinator -- a costume that I often wear. Taking Heffron's advice to 'just write', I've discarded my procastinator mask and have flung myself back into Writing Project 1: Typing up my grandad's memoirs.

The Life of a Tackley Lad is now being typed up and edited at the rate of 1000 words a day -- hardly speedy, but at least it's being done and I'm getting satisfaction from doing it. Hopefully it will cheer me gramp up a bit -- gran is still in the JR hospital.

The shift back to this outstanding project corresponds with a few other subtle changes: I am taking vitamins and eating dried nuts, seeds and fruit to combat an apparent vitamin B complex deficit. I am sipping Danone probiotic goo to give my body some friendly bacteria and a boost after all those antibiotic courses. I am doing the odd sit-up, and drinking gin and tonic rather than beer, to get my unsightly blubber belly in check.

Better body, better application of the mind.