Reflections on writing a book

Blimey, not sure what happened there - apparently we found ourselves in the second month of the year! Anyways, all is well here in Lincoln although we've just slip-slided our way into our car park with the snow falling down.

So this week has been mostly proof reading the final copy of the Book. Talking to my research mentor yesterday, I realised that there is quite a lot of me in the book. I get to certain sections and hear the music I was listening to as I wrote - Trevor Rabin soundtracks, beautiful John Wetton vocals, exciting Peter Gabriel tunes. Or I see certain rooms or landscapes - chapter five reminds me of sitting in the Institute of Advanced Studies in the Humanities (IASH), Edinburgh looking out over students enjoying sun-soaked picnics on the Meadows; the Introduction reminds me of arriving in Lincoln and having to grapple once again with my theoretical framework; chapter four sometimes reminds me of wandering around the National Museum of Scotland searching for inspiration amidst the Medieval paintings and Celtic artefacts; any mention of a MacColl play takes me right back to the North Reading Room of the National Library of Scotland. Occasionally a section of an argument reminds me of a conversation at a conference or a fortuitous chat with a colleague. I suddenly find myself proofreading a moment that was particularly difficult to write or provided a stimulating moment of revelation. It's really rather amazing (and frightening) that so much of me is in a non-fiction book! This project has been my primary focus for ages and has been my (sometimes irritating!) friend through my PhD, through testing times of unemployment, through a wonderful three months at IASH, through my postdoctoral teaching fellowship where I had to get to grips with Canadian literature in three weeks and on through my first full lectureship learning about performance and the joys of the workshop space.

And now it's coming to an end and will be on the shelves (or at least on the cyber-shelves of Amazon in a few months). It feels as if I am saying goodbye to a mate but also as if I am finally taking off a particularly uncomfortable pair of shoes! I'm now looking forward to getting on with other projects and leaving British Avant-Garde Theatre to make its own way in the world. Apologies for the prosaic Saturday night ramblings!

CSW