Nine Feet Underground

I have this crazy idea to write a book about 'Finnegans Wake' one day (one day!? Start now or you'll be dead first!) - yeah, I know, like the world needs another - along with 'Ulysses' probably the most written about book / author excepting Shakespeare. This is an idea that I have harboured for many years now, without it really getting from my head to the page. Why am I writing this here? Why now? Well, partly because everything seems to be screaming at me to do it. Everywhere I go, 'Finnegans Wake' keeps being brought to my attention: this month's 'Idler' magazine (issue number 67, for more info see here ) contains an essay, titled 'After The Wake', that touches on the book and, just a few days later, whilst perusing 'The Quietus's' website, I came across an article under their 'Tome on the Range' feature, where one of the authors talks about reading 'Finnegans Wake', the article being found here .

[Third attempt at writing this] With any luck I am experiencing post-holiday blues today: I have just returned from five days staying with friends in the South of France, which culminated in me flying in a light aircraft from Cannes and taking the controls to execute several manoeuvres - the dream of a lifetime (Thank you so much Kathy and Lloyd!) So I guess it's no surprise today is a bit of an anti-climax, though that has been made worse by another event (or rather non-event), which it would be unfair to share here. Freedom from the constant demands of being a carer for the past five days has highlighted to me how great the pressure normally is. Being back I feel as if I have picked up a hundred-weight sack of potatoes that I cannot put down. This has been life for the past five or more years, so I guess it will feel like normality before the day is out. I've been trying to make the most of this unexpectedly free day, but find myself with little interest in anything