Ra Real McCoy!

Monday 9:15 p.m.
I finished reading through The Real McCoy, which I reckon is now nearly twenty years old. How time flies!

Part of the plot is about an evangelical Christian running for the White House. That didn't really seem likely twenty years ago!

Anyway, it was an interesting radio play and I tried to hack a book round it in quicktime so I could become rich and famous, as usual. I think I put the prose round the dialogue during the three months the Domestic Bliss was looking after baby Rosalynd. Some of the paragraphs aren't too bad, but it's never going to be a satisfying read the way it is.

The book mentions white light a lot and bliss only slightly. So I was getting white light during my meditations twenty years ago. It couldn't have been as pronounced then since I remember a big jump in the effects of meditating about fifteen years ago.

I don't know if I really want to embark on another book. I can regard this one as half written. If my new book finds a publisher, then I'll be getting something else ready. I don't want to start a book from scratch since I haven't got the time just now. I want to meditate, but I should try to get some money for my daughter, etc., etc. Hmmm? You shouldn't go half assed into writing a book, or even re-writing one.

I haven't written anything for a year. I'll have to learn again. Make decisions. Will I use semi-colons and all that? Will there be any dwarfs, or elephants?

I'd like to write something amusing about God and death, and yoga, which my agent, if he wants it, can show to an editor for Penguin in the US of A. At least, I've got an agent who will look at it, which is a wee bit better than where I was last year.