Do I make myself understood?

Ah jeysus! I just wrote a long post and lost it when my battery cut out. So instead you’re going to get…whatever this will be. After three nights of sleeping only six hours, I’m…a wee bit depleted to be honest though still so grateful to be here. So I’m watching shit American cable and, after this, I’m going to go downstairs to the 7/11 and get an ice-cream. I really (really) want a beer but I’ve still to practice for tomorrow’s talk in Gongju.

Tonight was a talk with about eighty adult students (and one adoreabubble little boy) at the British Council. I talked about how my background informed the book, my journey to a book deal and read some passages. I’ve done a variation of this a ton in London but I was naive to think that it would be transferable. I hadn’t even thought about how hard it would be to do a talk and worry about how that’s translating. I am sure I talk too fast. I laugh too much. I think I probably seem too eccentric with my lame jokes and funny voices and weird sayings like ‘I write with my guts’ (I mean, how does that even translate?). 

So even though everyone laughed and smiled. And I posed for pictures and signed the wee boys colouring in book (he was so cute - he even asked a question during Q&A) and some women who’re trying to write and work full time told me they were inspired…well, I still don’t feel like I did a good enough job tonight. 

I think it is partly because I so want to do a good job for the British Council because I’m so grateful to them for this opportunity. The other reason is that I am just rough on myself sometimes. And sometimes this is a real asset (Tony Hogan wouldn’t be the book it is without that aspect of me) but sometimes, when you can do nothing to change things, it’s an absolute bastard. And the funny thing is when I’ve felt like this before about events that’s when I’been invited back, or asked to teach with the organisation or something - like a polar opposite of my impressions. I suspect that this roughness on self is quite common with writers…a constant running of a race, trying to go faster even when no one’s telling you to.. 

Anyway, tonight is not the night to over think - or indeed over talk. I’m tired and tomorrow we’re up early to travel to Gongju. Today so many lovely things happened: a butterfly on a sunny chrysanthemum, two old women having a right good laugh with each other, a loquacious torch salesman on the metro - that it seems a pity to write about these things. But then, some things aren’t all butterflies on sunny flowers and one of the points of daily posting is to capture the truth of this unique experience, both the highs and the times when you’re figuring stuff out.    

That said, I bet I remember this picture and not my over-tired worry in years to come. So here’s one of my memories for you…

 ***********************************************************************************

Also, if you haven’t already heard via the jungle drums (or my bloody incessant tweeting) I would really like your vote to help make Tony Hogan Scottish Book of the Year at the Scottish Book Awards. It takes a second and you can vote here. Ta muchly.