I have just slept for three and a half days. This may be an exaggeration but it certainly feels like it. Having had a delayed flight back from Sweden, I got two hours’ sleep before flying to Edinburgh for the book festival. After four events in three days there, I then came home to organize a small but fun film festival in the village where I live.
All good fun, and three successful things; words written in Sweden, events went well in Edinburgh, with Mal Peet, Ian Beck and Philip Reeve, and a small but satisfied crowd for each of the two nights of our film festival.
On the first night we showed the wonderful A Matter of Life and Death, which was timely because it’s providing inspiration for the screenplay my brother and I are writing just now. This is another project which is going well at the moment, and brings me to my next trip: we’re off to NYC on Saturday to scout some locations for some scenes of the film.
Including this one, the only active cemetery left in Manhattan.
New York is one of those cities that cemeteries don’t seem to belong in to me. I know this is illogical but maybe it’s because it’s just so full of life…
New York, that is, not the cemetery.