Sometimes, when I’m trying to work, I get very distracted by other people’s lives: their phone calls; their toilets flushing; their conversations about car parking. To get back into my bubble, I wear earplugs. Or, occasionally, I listen to literary podcasts. I like their reluctant interviewees trying to reach profundity. I like their reverence for words. Once I’ve finished listening, I’m usually back on track. I’ve convinced myself they are inspiration, and worthy procrastination.
My favourite podcasts at the moment are strangely New York-ish. I say strange because, while I have a predictable interest in the city, I’ve only been there once, and that was over ten years ago. For a week. With my parents. But we did see Woody Allen playing his clarinet at The Carlyle. He reminded me of a member of the muppet orchestra with his contented, bouncy focus.