Toby Salt will probably be in his cedar-timbered writing studio right now, contemplating his novel, or penning some Spenserian sonnet concerning the reflection of moonlight off a garden spade.

Wednesday April 25th

I’ve decided to buy myself a proper writer’s shed with my redundancy money. This is my gift to myself, and quite possibly, literature.

Thursday April 26th

Wuthering Heights

Up on your bookshelf, insecure,

I hoped that you’d see me.

Grab your attention, with my jealous scenes,

In cloth, too needy.

How could you leave me

When I needed to possess you?

I hated you. I loved you, too.

Bad books in the night

Told me I was going to lose the fight,

You’d leave behind your withering, withering

Wuthering Heights.

Be quick! Read me – I’m classy – in your home,

I’m so cold, don’t leave me in limbo.

Be quick! Read me – I’m classy – in your home,

I’m so cold, don’t leave me in limbo.

Ooh, it gets dark! It gets lonely

On the other side of your room.

I pine a lot. My spine has got

Stiffened up without you.

Don’t put me back, love,

You’re my readership!

My one dream ends in disaster.

Tweeting alone in the night,

Just have me back at your side to put it right.

Don’t leave behind your withering, withering

Wuthering Heights.

Be quick! Read me – I’m classy – in your home,

I’m so cold, don’t leave me in limbo.

Be quick! Read me – I’m classy – in your home,

I’m so cold, don’t leave me in limbo.

Ooh! Let me have it.

Let me grab your phone away.

Ooh! Let me have it.

Let me grab your phone away.

With all the disruption of the last few days, I’d neglected Wuthering Heights and only reached as far as page 65 by the time tonight’s book group rolled around. On route, I listened to Kate Bush in the hope she might give me a quick potted summary of the plot. She didn’t but I ignored my fears; imagine Heathcliff caring about such matters! Instead, I spent the evening staring at my beer glass darkly, and shouting, ‘Cruel and false!’ in between glowers and cashew nuts. In turn, the rest of the group gave me a wide berth, which I felt helped to reinforce my social isolation and air of brooding heroism.

Friday April 27th

Get Up

Get up.

Get on up. Beep.

Get up.

Get on up. Beep. Threep.

Get up.

Get on up. Beeeeep. Threeeeep.

Stay on the scene

like a fax machine.