I've resumed the beginning of the account of my relationship with Melanie that I started a good twenty years ago, and which stopped before the beginning of our lovemaking proper.
The notes I've been gathering over the last few months for Les Filles des Villes du Nord have been useful too; in a few days I'll be done, if I may say so, with her.
It's becoming increasingly clear to me that writing must be my main artistic activity; interactive fiction, role-playing, music, photography, everything, in the end, has to do with language, thought, memories, narrative, and nothing I do exists without being accompanied by a certain amount of storytelling – to use a term that's become fashionable in recent years.
Secondly: my memoirs must be one of my main literary projects, firstly because it's just about the only way I'll be able to pass on what I've seen and known, thought about, done, loved or hated, in the course of my life, since I don't have any children of my own; secondly, because it's clear to me, after all these years, that my own life and my own memory, however much they may have been disguised or rearranged, are my primary source of literary or musical inspiration, and that it's important for me to accompany my works with autobiographical commentary - at the moment in the form of a self-interview, but anything is possible in this field.
