Chad Taylor

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I am officially the worst sleeper in the world. When I was three my parents tried giving me sleeping pills (or Mickey Finns, as my father called them) which had no effect. Instead my parents took the pills themselves and left me to it. Which explains far too much.

I'm fascinated by people who can sleep; for me it's like waiting for a parcel that never arrives. Then about once every three weeks I collapse for nine hours and nothing will wake me. I've tried all the tricks (cutting caffeine, etc) but they don't work. Now I just sit up. I get a lot of work done late, and I read, and I've developed an interest in professional poker as a result of watching so much on TV. And working is easier on computers instead of mechanical typewriters - in the old days I'd have to type quietly.

One of the late events I remember staying up for was the telecast of the Apollo 11 moon landing. My older brother and his friend came over to watch, but crashed out: I stayed awake for the whole thing, aged 4 and a bit. NASA are releasing new footage of it now.

Second advantage of being a bad sleeper: lucid dreaming, any time, anywhere.

I almost killed this blog today; I'm not sure why I maintain it. I guess it's largely because people don't email each other anymore. Also finished the dr*ft. Know it's coming to an end because I'm having ideas for the next one. Agitated by London & not sure what I'm doing here. The fiction coming out of this town is terrible and publishing's in a white-faced panic. Music might be looking up, though, and the people are cheerful, although that might have something to do with the drinking... I'm agitated generally. But then again, when am I not? When?

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PS. When?