First thing after breakfast and seeing Dorothy I wrote a little article about Westminster Cathedral for the Oxford and Cambridge (illustrated weekly). I took the material from notes made on a visit. I've got a lot of these notes made within about twelve months. I shouldn't ever have written the article without notes. Moral. Unhappily I do this article gratis.
Then I went out for a walk along King's Road and round about Holbein Place (second-hand shops) to get my "Accident" ideas into order. Succeeded. sat down and began to write at once, 500 words by 1 p.m. Tea with Dorothy. Then a bit more of the novel. I found I had written 1,200 words of the same by 7 p.m. Quite excellent for the first day of a resumption after seven weeks' intermission. I spent a bit of time in miscellaneous reading.
The Colefaxes, Alick Shepeler and Otto Kahn and Rudolf Kommer came for dinner. Kahn came through Kommer. Kahn wanted a nice bunch for his yachting cruise in the Greek Archipelago, and Kommer, who is very friendly with him, suggested me as one. Kahn is short and white and sturdy. Of course very assured in style. Stuffed with brains. Highly intelligent. Phrases his talk very well. I at once decided to sail with him. April 20th. for a month. Kahn was never uninteresting, he gave a great deal of his attention to Dorothy. You can see he is efficient in everything. His information-giving talk with me about the projected cruise was excellently terse - couldn't have been better.
Finishing a novel last evening I experienced again that feeling of sadness and loss which often follows an enjoyable reading experience. Perhaps it is akin to post-coital tristesse. I find it occurs most commonly at the conclusion of a plot-driven novel. My belief is that the body responds to the power of the writing in the same way it would to actual physical stimuli, and the abrupt termination produces an anti-climactic reaction as liberated chemicals in the system subside. Perhaps then the strength of the reaction is a measure of the author's success.