I’m still revising ‘Light entertainment’, I’m maybe forty pages into it now. halfway through chapter two.

It’s coming painfully slowly like watching a slug moving through broken glass. I’m not a bit happy with the plot, but I can’t see what I should be slotting into it to kiss it all better. So I’m tidying up spelling and sentences, going through the motions until the answer is revealed.

I wrote the draft in march this year, while being hassled by both the DSS and poverty pimps triage, being sent to interview after interview. There wasn’t once I could get a week’s clear run at the writing. I just had to fit it in around all these nonsensical wastes of my time.

It’s fucking hard work being ‘too lazy to work’ as Iain Duncan Smith would have it.

The plot of ‘Light entertainment’ is filled with the rage I felt at that time. Revising it, some six months later, it’s hard to get my skull around all that anger.

It was after completing ‘Light entertainment’, that I decided to cut my losses and become self employed (or, ‘too lazy to work for myself’, Mr Cameron).

I accepted a cut in income of almost thirty pounds a week (not bad when the original figure was seventy pounds per week) and I lived on that until this job happened.

This government sell off school playing fields and then claim they’re responsible for the british athletes doing so well in the Olympics.

My advice to them would be to try to avoid ever claiming responsibility for any upsurge in british writing. We might well be too lazy to work, but we have wonderful imaginations when it comes to dreaming up painful and degrading ways for you to die.

 

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