“If you want to write, if you want to create, you must be the most sublime fool that God ever turned out and sent rambling. You must write every single day of your life. You must read dreadful dumb books and glorious books, and let them wrestle in beautiful fights inside your head, vulgar one moment, brilliant the next. You must lurk in libraries and climb the stacks like ladders to sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy heads. I wish you a wrestling match with your Creative Muse that will last a lifetime. I wish craziness and foolishness and madness upon you. May you live with hysteria, and out of it make fine stories — science fiction or otherwise. Which finally means, may you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world.”
For no particularly good reason, I made some mention of the Agincourt Project in my architectural history class this morning. It took a little over twenty minutes our of seventy-five and meant I got two thirds of the way through the Romanesque lecture Part One. Guess I’ll just have to talk faster on Thursday.
The episode grew from some small point, I don’t recall what, and went a bit farther than I’d intended. But the upshot was a standard open invitation to come play in the sandbox with the rest of those who have created Agincourt over the years. One good sign: the website had three visitors who looked at nearly a dozen pages. Somebody took the hint.