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A pencil resting on a notebook, being sharpened.

8 October 2017

I write a lot of email. As I’ve written more of it, I’ve gotten better at it. By which I mean I’ve become more considerate of the person receiving the email, trying to keep my emails brief but also thorough. But these are competing goals, and brevity takes too much time. As the…

A heart drawn on a stained window pane.

28 July 2017

This blog has been quiet, though my life – including my writing life – has been busier than ever. There are plenty of things I’ve wanted to write but didn’t get round to starting. Or I did start them, but didn’t finish them. Or I finished them, but didn’t like them well enough to…

A woman with blond, braided hair.

30 May 2017

I drew the shutters of the bar I worked at around one in the morning. Ch— used to work there as well. That’s how we first met. But she had quit in a huff a few weeks earlier and began working at a nearby club. I lived nearby, in a one-room flat without its own bathroom. Since I…

A pile of old cars dumped in a cave.

4 May 2017

Over the last two weeks, since returning from my fourth meditation retreat, I’ve written three or four blog posts, of which I’ve published precisely zero. The pace is a bit more frenzied than typical, partly owing to meditation. After this last retreat I began sitting twice a…

Container ships in a foggy bay.

26 February 2017

I was walking down the bay of Thessaloniki this morning, enjoying the drizzly, foggy day. I took a few photos of the container ships which hung soundlessly out in the misty water, like ghost ships from an ominous tale. Walking back, I kept stopping to take more pictures. I’m not…

World maps

20 February 2017

The man walking towards me on the other side of the pavement caught my eye and ambled in my path. We stopped and sized each other. He was in his sixties. Being a bit shorter than me, he pushed the flat cap up on his forehead to look at me. He pointed to a bundle of rolled papers…

In terms of writing these days I am mired, knee-deep, in the squelching, quaggy plot of my novel. I’m trying to make sure that the story is fun to read, makes sense, and is historically plausible — or, at least, not blatantly inconceivable. Every time I sit to work on the…

24 January 2017

It’s traditional around the end of the year for people to reflect on the past year, and envision wanton aspirations for the coming one. Most bloggers have, by now, posted their reflections — no doubt scrupulously prepared before the holidays, so that they can post triumphantly…

The beach at Artemida

26 July 2016

I’ve spent the last couple of weeks by the beach. I am working, not vacationing. But since I work remotely, and my primary collaborator is on vacation, and the beach is so near Athens, and I have somewhere to stay, and decent WiFi is available at the seaside cafés, well: I’d be a…

31 May 2016

I started this year thinking about beginnings. More recently I’ve been thinking about endings. And in particular, about quitting. How to quit and when. What are the signs, the premonitions? Is it possible to quit with dignity? This is all Potatowire’s fault. Potatowire, an…