Bits

Started The Rings of Saturn on the train again, which makes four attempts. Got further this time — past the silkworms. I think the trick is not trying to work out where it is going.

Went back to index cards for the first draft. Something about not being able to reorder them without physically standing up makes me commit to an order much earlier, and the order is usually fine.

Walked to the harbour without headphones for the first time in months. Twenty minutes in, the sentence I had been failing to write for a week arrived fully formed, which is irritating in a way I have decided not to examine.

The quiet hour has moved. It used to be four o’clock; for the last month it has been closer to seven in the morning. No idea what changed. Rearranging around it rather than arguing with it.

Counted the notebooks. Nineteen, of which four are full, two are half, and thirteen have between one and six pages used. I do not think this is a stationery problem.

Found a secondhand copy of a book I already own, annotated by someone else. Reading their marginalia is uncomfortably like reading mail addressed to somebody I have never met but apparently agree with about everything except the ending.

Tried reading at deliberately half speed for a week. The comprehension gain was smaller than I expected; the retention gain, three months on, is much larger. Filing that away.