haters gonna hate – even the shit i be proud of, yeah?


idiots’ graveyard

right to work – chelsea

I’ve worked in the people business for almost twenty years now and transgressionata is the first time I’ve written about that particular industry.
Before that, I washed dishes, swept streets, worked as ‘village idiot’ on the odd building site and even worked in a couple of offices.
Oh yeah, and I was a stripper’s labourer, but that’s another story for another time.
I don’t know how anyone can take months, let alone years in the same four walls with the same bastards every single day. Office workers, I don’t know how you survive the poisonous environment you find yourself in – and I salute you.
But yeah. I roughed up the draft of a novel about care work, maybe ten years ago, but it came to nothing. This is the first time I’ve gone at it with both the ideas necessary to create a novel.
I recycled colleagues from various jobs for ‘the idiots’ graveyard, but just as stray free-range arseholes. This is the first time I’ve looked at care as an industry.
Obviously, I won’t be pishing over anyone’s anonymity or confidentiality. None of the people (staff or real people) are in any way representative of any real person, alive, dead or miscellaneous.

now, why not read the novel that started it all? 1919 (inside)

It’ll be our secret – mum and dad need never know!


out of control – kim fowley

#FollowFriday on twitter (or #FF). I don’t manage it every week, but when I do, I usually push the boat out and make of it something strange and beautiful. Yesterday afternoon, I based it on ‘the hunger games’ – and found two dozen people who hadn’t had the sense not to talk to me in the last seven-to-ten days or so.

So I introduced them as the tributes from the twelve districts, piled high the references to not only the hunger games themselves, but turned up the dada to eleven, assigning them ridiculous weapons (apple-corer, anyone?) And slipping in a few in-jokes, of the sort I normally do.

I’ve long enjoyed irrelevant comedy, from Roger Irrelevant in viz, back in the twentieth century, through Vic Reeves to Chris Morris.

The dada/gritty surrealism/new weird forum in NaNoWriMo is another hotbed of disconnected and jocular thought. We’re all probably linked by Carlton Mellick lll and very possibly China Mieville.

After that, everyone has their own preferences, the ‘real’ part of the ‘surrealism’.

When I was writing the erotic cleansing, back in the 1990s, what I wanted was to set the book in a universe where there was no causality whatsoever. A world where, quite literally, anything could happen – and at any moment.

That’s a thread that runs all the way to the idiots’ graveyard. A universe spinning out of control, where razor-sharp fragments of crazy could come out of nowhere and eat your face off


 Get the picture?

Why not check out the novel, “1919 (inside)” available from smashwords?

Doing for preposterous what Sir Paul Maccartney does for blackbird.

defecting grey – the pretty things

A decent night’s sleep, after a day spent slumped in front of sitcoms and old Tarrentino movies. Up around nine and I battered straight into dreich noir, which I’ve left untouched since november’s nano.

Because dreich noir started out as an exercise in writing a narrator as unlike me as possible, getting started can feel a lot like hard work. Slotting myself into the skull of someone with whom I have so little in common.

I’ve basically lain fallow this last month since I finished the first draft of the idiots’ graveyard. Relaxed. Caught some early nights and one or two long lies.

So, i’m feeling all new-year-ish. Like we’ve survived another one. Beaten off the mayans, fundamentalists of every stripe and their idiot wars on everything but themselves.

A year ago yesterday, I was the same age in days as my father was the day he died. A week ago yesterday was the date the mayans had circled in red on their calendar. It’s over six months since harold camping’s latest promise of milk ‘n’ honey for evermore.

Looks like we’re going to be stuck with each other for the forseeable future. Each staring back at the other with up to sixty cold dead eyes.




Enjoying this?

Why not check out my novel, 1919 (inside) available from smashwords?

Doing for interpersonal relationships what gary glitter does for creches.

My mind ain’t so open – magazine

After a while, all this r’n’r starts to get to me. I finished ‘the idiots graveyard’ almost a month ago and the time since has been swallowed up by getting bunnied, going on holiday and wondering what my next move was going to be.
I finished Holly Lisle’s ‘mugging the muse’ last night. Thoroughly inspiring – like that friend with the irritating voice who’s right more often than not.
So my mind’s started ticking alarmingly again. An idea I had, back in the late nineteen-nineties (Christ, how many novels have I started, only to run out of steam after most of a first draft, the pages suffocating through a lack of cohesion?)
I think I mentioned that I loved ‘the hunger games’. Since Ms Collins gazumped me with her time travel smart-arsery, I’ve sectioned off an area of my mind, which has been turning over the similarities and differences between her ‘hunger games’ and my own ‘light entertainment’.
When I started putting it together this morning, a couple of fragments of Tim Burton’s ‘mars attacks!’ got in there somehow, too.
So. Day one of the planning of whatever I end up hurling myself into for April’s NaNoCamp.

down down – status quo

It’s always weird, getting to the end of another novel. There’s always that wee dip when it’s finally over.
Okay, it’s only a first draft, but for the last month, I’ve been living and breathing that parallel universe where all the monsters, bastards and giants I’ve ever worked beside all frolicked and gambolled together in the post-industrial meadow.
Suddenly, it spits me out and I’m splattered back into the world where I have to go out and work – amongst colleagues a damn sight less funny than the inhabitants of the idiots’ graveyard
That’s five days now. I’m getting the odd dip, but for the most part, I’m coming back down to the ‘real world’ (whatever that is!)
Starting to think less in terms of ‘never the fuck again’ and more along the lines of ‘see next time, I’m gonna…’
I’ve been binge-ing on tv, too. And not all of it good. ‘Him & her’ series one being a case in point. Not a bad cast, but the basic premise seems to be ‘if shameless was a sit-com AND wasn’t funny’…

Rollercoaster – the jesus and mary chain.

Well, I finished the idiots’ graveyard around 19:30 on friday 30th. Then, when I went to validate my word count, I remembered that NaNoWriMo counts words differently to star office.
Personally, I believe that NaNo, like McRosoft’s word, counts hyphenated words as one word, while star office counts ’em as multiples (sigh) my 50,050 words looked a lot more like 49,116 to hear NaNo tell it.
I flopped onto the couch, breathed deeply and refused to panic. It’s only a thousand words. Piece of piss. Standing on my head. Or even with someone else standing on my head.
So I gave myself ten minutes, then carried on dredging up fragments from my back-brain, wrapping them in characters from the last month and improvising.
Some of these will end up in the finished product, some won’t. But hey, it’s a fuckin’ rollercoaster – same as every other time.
I eventually got finished around 20:40. Less than three-and-a-half hours before the deadline. My fifth NaNo – and the latest I’ve ever finished it.
So, what have I been doing in the interim? I’ve watched a shedload of episodes of homeland and I’ve drunk an unfeasible quantity of black velvet. Isn’t homelands series two a bit odd, though? Jessica who completely failed to swear throughout series one, spits out a couple of fucks in episode one of this series. And the skronky jazz is still there, every time carrie gets the camera to herself.
I’ve also been reading “is america stupid” by streve freeman and chuck palahniuk’s “damned” (which I still regret not having thought of first!)

Horrorshow – the scars

Forty-seven and-a-half thousand words down. It’s wednesday night and I’m taking a well-deserved breather.
I’m becoming horribly addicted to series one of homelands – although it seems to be sagging a wee bit in the second haf of the series. Ever since carrie mentioned theolonius, soft jazz has followed her around. Plus, she felt it necessary to point out miles davis to brody when he visited her at home.
Now it’s thursday night. I’m grinding towards the end of a shift at work and champing at the bit to squeeze out those last twenty-six hundred horrorshow slovos.
This last month has been a hell of a ride – working, training, the first new (shit)bond movie since I lived in liverpool.

January – pilot

Monday afternoon: These are going up around forty-eight hours after they’re written. At the time of writing, I have forty-three-and-a-half thousand words down, leaving me six-and-a-half k to grind out by friday. I think I can manage.
I only have chapter one to write now, so I’m folding in a lot of cut-ins, one or two of which are actually pretty good.
I’ll take next month to work on “1919 (outside)” and get it ready for february. Come january, I’ll start revising either this or august’s ‘dystopian’ piece..
This month’s been pretty high-stress. Balancing work, on-the-job training (oo-er, missus!) and trying to squeeze out a novel has been difficult – although not impossible.
If anything, I’m already looking forward to june and next year’s NaNoCamp.

The distance – cake

That’s me cracked forty thousand words. I wrung out five thousand yesterday, which brought my total up to thirty-eight-and-a-half thousand and this morning, I’ve done two-and-a-half thousand.
I’m closing in on the magic fifty-k. After I finished last night, I chilaxed, watched russ meyer’s ‘vixen’ (for the editing, obviously) before discovering ‘homeland’, which number two son has been raving about for a while. He’s not wrong.
The plot’s really well-orchestrated, the characters well rounded and engaging – by the end of episode one, I wanted to know what was in store for each and every one of them.
Also, during my four, five hour movie marathon, I took a few notes; cut-ins for the idiots’ graveyard.
At the moment I’m two thirds of the way through chapter two, so that’s roughly a chapter-and-a-bit to wring ten thousand words out of. So I’m writing episodes that hopefully I can weave into the whole somewhere once I get to the revision stage.

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