I wrote this evening. My writing was something I haven’t genuinely done for a long time. Well, at least novel writing anyway. It wasn’t that I had writer’s block, no it was more insidious. The Covid situation wore my enthusiasm; I had lost any interest in things I previously enjoyed. Quite honestly, I was depressed. My depression was a muted version, which affected my mood and desire.
Tonight after watching, of all things, Under the Tuscan Sun, I got inspired. I had a new opening for my memoir. I doused any thought of going to bed, and I began to write. After I finished the new intro, I discovered that the story flowed more easily. It also changed the narrative briefly, which now I will have to carry throughout the book. I am up to the challenge; I am ready to write. But first, some sleep. It’s getting late.
—Robert Confiant 17 April 2021