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Margaret Atwood and David Mitchell have offered up their latest novels to the future, for they shall only be read in one hundred years. . . To know what I’m on about follow these two links –



These are nice quotes from them both on the whole shebang  –

“What a pleasure, you don’t have to be around for the part when if it’s a good review the publisher takes credit for it and if it’s a bad review it’s all your fault. And why would I believe them anyway?” – Margaret Atwood

“How vain to suppose the scribblings of little old me will be of enduring interest to future generations. Yet how low-key and understated, to slave over a manuscript that nobody will ever pat you on the back for and say: ‘Nice one’, or ‘God, I loved the bit where she did that and he did this …’” – David Mitchell

Two of my favourite writers as well. I’m intrigued to see who else makes the grade.

Tis a fascinating idea and an exciting one too! You could the next Van Gogh in literary form (esme is clearly too lazy to search for the literary equivalent –  poor show tsk),   minus the poverty and generally grim life  – unless you already have a poverty stricken and grim life, and if so, well at least in the future you’ll be lauded by trillions! Or ridiculed for being bloody awful, but that makes not one jot of difference because you won’t be around to feel like poo on a stick, your offspring’s offspring and on-wards shall, but you’ll be flying about the universe in motes being all existential, or possibly a chicken, so it doesn’t matter really. Any of it. However I still think it’s a brilliant idea – a time capsule full of wanted words! Well they are wanted if they Margaret Atwood’s, or David’s, but probably not so much esme’s – no, no really – fends off the crowds disagreeing wildly with this statement. Margaret and David don’t need to know how their work will be received as much as your average. (or peculiar) Joe, Jim, Josephine or Josaphatta you see. (This is not to say that successful authors don’t need to know at all, no, no, no, for tis a drug such fine feedback as they get, one which  becomes all the more a beguiling one with each successive success(esme is enjoying the word a bit much there but tis her Cloud so she can) Budding authors need their first break at least you see, they need to know that all those years, all those tears and fears (esme knows a song (technically a band) about that), weren’t in vain, and they deserve to find out too. So don’t bury your first one, wait until you’re flying high on the winds of success and then bury one, m’kay?

Unless your ego won’t let you that is.