 sleeping on the job by james bruce may it s early on a bright cold saturday morning in camden town and tourists are already beginning to emerge from the underground hawkers engage them in bartering on the market chainstore coffee baristas serve them up steaminghot drinks policemen give them directions activity unfolds in a thousand interactions growing steadily beneath an uninterested fragile blue sky as yet unbroken by a single cloud back and forth along the high street the tourists shuffle the pavement below their feet is clean last night s broken glass and leaflitter of flyers all swept away above them townhouses lean in listening these redbricked buildings are four storeys high and have seen countless processions of tourists they may have been grand homes once and to the passing sightseer they still look impressive but inside their onceairy drawing rooms and spacious bedrooms have all been brutally divided up and sectioned off so as to cram in the maximum amount of rentpaying residents one such tenant is a writer he lives alone in a bedsit which overlooks the britannia junction a pigeon s swoop away from the busy shops pubs tube station and flower stall this morning the writer pays no attention to the pedestrians passing below his home however for he is fast asleep submerged in a bed that s pushed up next to the room s only window he s wrapped in a rucked duvet breathing in deep sleepregulated breaths the noise from the street is perfectly audible inside this matchbox home despite the closed and curtained window engines sirens the banshee brakes of buses an early busker s shivering chords the accompanying hubbub of myriad conversations enmasse it can all be heard clearly yet the sleeping writer does not stir the drawn curtains are cream in colour and are not thick and so the morning s shade slips in easily alongside its sounds as if trying to escape the bright sky once inside that dim light gathers up its shadows and casts them about the stark furnishings of the room the calendar on the wardrobe door is given a good frame of darkness gloom is pushed back between the leaning novels on the bookshelf the heap of clothes discarded on the chair develops unnatural depths while the clutter on the table seems to shift uncertain of its edges the three pairs of shoes lurking at the foot of the bed by a solid black guitar case look ready to run the writer turns in his bed oblivious he murmurs perhaps in a dream the halflight continues its slow waltz around the room hiding this highlighting that in a space as small as this the table is the logical hub and out of necessity it must have to perform many functions it is undoubtedly a place to eat a media centre a workspace and it is also where the morning light focuses its gentle dance it seems that the table was most recently used as a desk although there are signs of consumption too books are piled dismissively next to an open dormant laptop an empty mug two empty beer bottles and reams of loose paper that very nearly hide a small crumby plate shadows move freely amongst this mess but it does not cover the whole table for a little clearing has been created towards the front where another book is left with its pages open the writer s journal a pen is poised atop the journal quiescent in the straight papervalley at the spine of the book waiting like a bullet in a pistol s firing chamber the light allows for a close inspection of those open pages and discloses the handwritten heading challenges facing unknown authors on the other side of the room the writer turns again in his bed a frown passing over his face on the lefthand page of the journal a long unbroken sentence is pulled in a hurry across the paper the black ink of some words smudged by the passing of a palm capture some essence from the heart of the process some problem part of the struggle hint at the strength required no the endurance give a glimpse of the challenge made to the artist during the discipline of writing outline the need for patience during its undertaking to progress with prolonged sustained quality prose requires stamina yes often a need to dig deep especially following failure rejection how to capture this problem difficult essay to approach highlight temptation to give up and start on some other project some other easier project highlight fact that successful writers cannot quit or else nothing started is finished and anyway abandoned work is never improved work so the writer must be hardy and robust highlight difficulty of day job of suffocating city rent expectations peer expectation plus envy of peers success give detailed image of doubtful expressions seen in response to emptysound of ideas highlight gravity of phone screen computer screen television screen highlight regret of pointless procrastination addiction to various homefeeds fleeting nature of time tidal nature of sleep no wait stop subject too dense for such approach will ramble will condescend won t be useful won t make sense all bollocks all pretence what approach then maybe try to ask the page ask the page about this problem catch problem in a cage of notes on the page write it out and then sleep on it on the righthand page of the journal neater rows of writing form a square you say you re a writer you read and you love what you read you think you can offer something too a similar escape with a different approach you believe you can offer some image never seen you have ideas you cherish them you write them nurture them you tell people you re a writer you tell people you love writing people smile but you know they don t think you re a writer they ask you what you do you tell them you re a barman a waiter a clerk a temp just while you write but you know they need proof proof of success measured in money you say you don t care about money but they are not convinced you have doubts doubts about what you are doubts about writing doubts about everything you write down your doubts and act like writing them down exorcises them banishes them but your doubts remain lingering writing isn t therapy you think writing isn t medicinal but neither are doubts new other writers must suffer similary you wonder how they cope you set to work studying mimicking contemplating discussing those writers you meet people who say they are writers too their numbers dishearten you but you connect with some and it helps you stick out your job you keep your head down you squeeze sentences from spare seconds you write every day determined and slowly your work grows you take your journal everywhere people ask you what you re doing you say you re a writer they smile your doubts linger the sleeping writer stirs once more grunting softly possibly about to wake a frown passes again over his face perhaps he s dreaming of the uncertainties cast in blackbiro across the pages of his journal outside while shadows continue to shift around his little room the crowds on camden high street thicken in the pale winter sunlight the blue sky remaining empty above apathetic utterly indifferent issue 2 james bruce may nice permalink submitted by aj not verified on february 26 2013 1340 nice reply so that s what s going on  permalink submitted by jammymummy not verified on february 26 2013 2227 so that s what s going on  reply 