One of my characters is a synesthete.
According to wikipedia (because… well, nevermind), synesthesia is:
‘a neurological phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway.’
It’s quite unarguable that colours naturally evoke particular moods (or colour therapy wouldn’t be A Thing, as wouldn’t such literary clichés as ‘red = anger’ and ‘white = pure’, etc.), but there is a certain automatic and unselfconscious precision with which a synesthete experiences the connection of disparate sensory experiences that, to me, is fascinating. Continue reading
I find it very difficult to describe my current project. Last night was a prime example; it’s not easy to shout coherently to a new acquaintance across the noise of an East Oxford bar about philosophies, humanity, and a character who is ‘a bit unusual, metaphysically’ but ‘not really an angel’, or about how I think my novel is ‘sort of melancholic but also quite funny’. I need to equip myself with the classic elevator speech for such emergencies, instead of resorting to ‘themes’, buzzwords and the wonderful armour of a mysterious smile.
I hope I might be exquisitely talented at describing what I’m doing once it’s actually… you know… done.
In the meantime, I wrote a poem: Continue reading
I’ve been meaning to make this for a little while now. I’m not sure exactly what it’s going to be, but you can expect, at the very least, a kind of ‘catch all’ for a few of the thoughts and transitory moments of inspiration that flit through my brain; interesting things I stumble across during life and my research, plus, perhaps some deep delves into the most fertile well of my periodical procrastination. I can also (probably) promise an unreasonable number of semi-colons.
I hope you like it.