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

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person-hair

shockwork – test dept

I realise I haven’t written anything about writing for a while. Last November, my health collapsed – right in the middle of NaNoWriMo – and I ended up taking five weeks off work, as well as really struggling to finish the book I was working on.

Since then, my health has been intermittent, to say the least. Any exertion and I’m flat on my back for anything from a couple of hours to a couple of days.

Still, I finished the bastard. And in April, I managed to drag myself though another (my take on the steampunk novel) and in July, I completed the first draft of a fairly ambitious project – in Scots.

Steampunk seemed like an interesting genre to subvert, given my hatred of what that nice Mr Major used to call ‘Victorian values’ and recent events coming to light through Exaro News and other public services. Anyway, it’s lying fallow just now, until I find the time to sit down with it and give it a good polish.

I haven’t written anything in the Scots tongue since I left Edinburgh for Liverpool, almost ten years ago. Surrounded by Merseyside – and Manchester – accents, there seemed little point in trying to recapture the speech patterns I only ever heard on my holidays.

I returned to Scotland, settling in Fife in 2010 and the following year, I discovered NaNoWriMo.

At present, I’m revising July’s novel, which *should* see the light of day sometime next year. And, writing the skeleton of November’s NaNoWriMo novel. And, when I can, polishing an earlier work, the follow-up to ‘Ladies and Gentleman’.

a little rain – tom waits

After last month’s read through of ‘Person Hair’ on my tablet (thank you Calibre!) I’ve been able to get started on editing it. Again, I’m using Aldiko on my tablet and forcing in notes where I need to make changes, anything from a wrNog word to an entire section that needs gutted and rewritten from scratch. I reckon I can complete the revision in about four weeks, give or take.
I was between units at work the other day. I had a three hour break and went to a cafe I know to eat solids and work on this. It was crowded and I found myself under the television, vomiting quiz shows over me. If anything, I was distracted and probably missed a few bits of the scenes I was reading through.
So I moved to a nearby boozer and was able to concentrate a bit better there.
This morning, I read that there’s a perfect level of ambiance that fosters creativity. Seventy decibels is the perfect level.
Too loud and it’s distracting, too quiet and it allows the mind to wander.
I’m writing this to the sound of an app that simulates rainfall – at user-defined intensity and with an ebb and flow of volume and a setting for how often the listener wants thunder to rumble.there’s also one that simulates the sounds of a cafe.
Traditionally, I write to music. Old school industrial, power romance, orchestral, anything without audible vocals. I find voices spewing words distracts from the words I’m wringing out of my own head. Distorted beyond all recognition’s fine, though. Which brings us back to that fucking quiz show the other afternoon – try as I might, I just couldn’t stop myself answering their damned questions!
I haven’t bothered naming this product. I’m probably going to write the whole of April’s NaNo to it – or something very like it – and after they’ve had that particular road test, I’ll let you know how they bear up. Certainly, I’ve written the first – and second – drafts of this entry to the rainfall and it’s coming pretty quickly.

aztec calendar – mick farren

And it came to pass that I got my goddamn mojo back and there was great jubilation and wild rejoicing – on the inside of my head if nowhere else. Last Monday, I finally had the stamina to sit down and nuke ‘Ladies and gentleman’. It took me two full days, but that’s it finished now. And, I actually managed to post something in here, which hasn’t been physically – or mentally – possible since December.

Then, I read through the next novel that’ll be coming out. It needs work, sure (and lots of it!) but I was amazed how many great wee bits there were in it. I’m looking forward to living and breathing the damn thing – maybe in March – and having it out in August. That’s the plan, anyhoo.

I feel like I’m coming out of a long, enforced low-budget suspended animation. Why is it, that it takes bouts of sickness to remind me that my health is so important? Having spent a couple of months, flat on my back, unable to function, every day feels like an Aladdin’s cave of possibilities.

And it’s not just me – I saw on twitter last night that Greece has voted in an anti-austerity party – by a landslide. David Cameron’s unimpressed – tweeting about how austerity’s actually a damn good thing – which it probably is when you’re married to some sort of millionaire.

I feel great – and it feels like the whole world’s waking up with me!

It’s only about three months until our own general election. I’m hoping the Greek result is a shot in the arm for, not just the anti-austerity movement globally, but whatever section of the UK’s populace are wondering whether being piss-poor and blaming immigrants will somehow stop bankers throwing their cocaine-fueled orgies at our expense.

And of course, I was cheered to hear I’d outlived the ugliest bastard in the history of British home secretaries, Leon Brittan. Interviewed last summer over a 1967 date rape and furiously trying to cover up his part in the ‘loss’ of MP Geoffrey Dickens’ 1983 dossier on the British establishment’s abuse elite.

It’s got to be a bit rough, waiting to die, knowing that if the disease doesn’t get a move on, justice will finally catch up with you. But then, this guy was home secretary under Thatcher right through the miners’ strike.

From my perspective, it feels like we’ve been living through Sade’s ‘One hundred-and-twenty days of Sodom’ since 2010. A world where the wealthy, powerful and/or prominent have had a get-out-of-jail-free card, a tacit understanding that the lives of children in care weigh less than an MP or light entertainer emptying their bag.

So I’m feeling hopeful. Hopeful that we’ve got the bottle to gnaw through these straps and take back what’s rightfully ours. And the world’s looking like a much better place already.

Soon come.

someone like you – adele

I don’t know about you, but with the government’s new anti porn law, I’ve completely forgotten that the economy’s arsed and sexual abuse of children has been endemic throughout our entire system for decades.

So now, in a dazzling and inspired celebration of world AIDS day, our beloved coalition government have decided to put a whole bunch of activities that don’t lead to the transmission of disease on the naughty step.

Bondage. Spanking. Hitting or whipping. Strangulation. Face-sitting. Well, I think that’s the whole of my sex life covered. So, obviously, I’ll just not have any sexual feelings from now on. Which may or may not cheer up my long-suffering Domme. And she’d better not get attitudey about it either, as abusive language during sex is also now verboten.

In my first two novels, I covered impact play, waste play and bondage. With my non-contentious and totally vanilla novel, ‘Ladies and gentleman’ about to be published, I thought I’d avoided getting on the wrong side of anyone this time, but no. Female ejaculation’s now up there with the Yorkshire ripper and defrauding an innkeeper. The next one’s all just racism and violence – I promise – surely that can’t offend anyone? Maybe I should do it as a pop-up book.

The UK economy’s in shreds. Borrowing’s through the roof and with the price of oil bobbing around $70 a barrel (and Osborne’s promise to oil companies that he’ll intervene with a tax cut for them) there’s no end in sight. New legislation that’ll drive more UK businesses to the wall – or abroad – makes superb economic sense. After all, anyone who loses their job’s a diabolical scrounger – and foodbanks are the new ‘spirit of the blitz’, innit?

With the UN looking hard at the UK’s human rights record with regard to women, children, the poor and the disabled, what better time to be seen to be doing something about those dreadful perverts? And, best of all, most if not all of the blacklisted activities seem to be things that women enjoy. Win-win. Certainly, I’m looking forward stiffer penalties for the possession, distribution or consumption of the work of Adele early in the next parliament.

When John Major’s government were on the ropes, rocked with sex scandals, the tories had the brilliant idea of targeting the BDSM community. Operation Spanner cost a paltry three million britquids and secured convictions against sixteen men for taking part in consensual sexual activities. Now contrast and compare with the present.

The spanner ruling of March 10th 1993 made real life BDSM illegal. And now that representations of it are tantamount to blasphemy too, I look forward to the special UK cut of ‘Fifty shades of shite’ when it’s released. After all, if that book sold thirty two million copies in English alone, it’s not like there’ll be any market for it.

And we can all take comfort from the fact that fucking kids and then strangling them afterwards will still be mandatory for Westminster MPs and light entertainers.

in the greylight – virgin prunes

I contacted a couple of artists last night about covers for ‘1919’, ‘the C-word’ and ‘person-hair’. Then, to stop myself being bored, I exported the whole of ‘dreich NOiR’ from WordPress and started ripping out all the extraneous characters.
I also watched ‘benefits street’ on 4OD, since people were still arguing about it on Twitter and Facebook. For anyone who’s had their head stuck in the ground all week, it breaks down like this: a poke-fun-umentary about people with, quite literally, nothing. Like Scotland’s ‘the scheme’ a couple of years ago, ‘benefits street’ points the camera (and the waggy finger) at a group of people who live near each other, the bastards. People under intense financial (and social) pressures, people forced to break the law in order to survive. What’s next? Videotaping a group of working class primary fives in a gas chamber, watching them claw their way over their dead and dying peers for the last crumbs of air? With points deducted for anyone not having very good manners?
According to Twitter, the company responsible for this latest Circus Maximus have previously been investigated for exposing children to risk in some other ‘documentary’. And people who appeared in the programme have been subjected to death threats and baseball bat offers.
This is propaganda for that Bullingdon view of the world: a world where anyone without the common decency to have enough disposable income to insulate themselves against the present economic disaster is, at best a cartoon character, with no function other than to entertain those of us with televisions and couches.
Watching it, I was incensed that these levels of poverty and desperation are still with us in 2014, disgusted that people can see people fighting to survive and hate them for it. So much for that ‘big society’ the prime monster seems to have shut up about recently.
The United Kingdom is breaking down into those with too much (how much did IDS pay for his breakfast this morning?) and those living from day-to-day, with no real hope of anything other than battling the symptoms of their poverty.

don’t look back in anger – oasis

My Owner and Goddess is going over ‘1919 (outside)’, so it’s starting to look as if it’ll be out there where people can touch it, in the next month or two. It’s been a long enough wait.
The original plan was to have it out by the end of 2012, but reality was waiting to ambush me. And, if anything, my confidence has dropped regarding this project.
So, come next month, I’ll have to give it a final once over and try to sort out the cover.
I’ve been cobbling together all the drafts I have, backing them up on the cloud (which I should’ve done before) and passing them along to She-Who-Reckons-She-Ought-to-be-Obeyed. once ‘outside’ is under way, next up is ‘Person Hair’ from last spring.
It’s been about a year-and-a-half since ‘1919 (inside)’ came out. The time since has been devoid to working too much, playing too hard and resting when I collapse from all the above.
I originally wrote ‘1919’ in 2007-08. It’s strange going back to it all these years later when (I hope) my writing’s improved in so many ways. It’s been a fantastic festive period and, I’m pretty much sober now. Hopefully 2014 will be the year this stuff sees the light of day.

time we left this world today – hawkwind

I seem to be pishing ideas at the moment, haemorraging bookseeds like a knifed and shrieking sow. A conversation with #2 son yesterday that began with us agreeing that space aliens will never show up on our planet with their hyper-evolved technology soon moved into an un-twentieth century where scientific advances had shot ahead of cultural development. I wrote it down, so I might do something with that someday.
For now though, my primary to-be-written project’s still the transgressionata and my most important polishing jobs are ‘person-hair’ and ‘1919 (outside)’
Long day at work today. Working at four (count ’em) different units for a couple of hours each. I don’t see me getting a mad crazy amount of writing done by the end of tonight somehow.
And I’m knackered. Bone-exhausted. Ah well, a couple of days off – just what the suicide bomber ordered!

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

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bunnied

Guaranteed – absolutely NO traces of horse DNA anywhere in this novel. And that’s the truth – or my name’s not David Cameron.

hip priest – the fall

It’s been a week-and-a-half since I finished ‘person-hair’. Spent the time catching up at work, chilling and, most importantly, catching up on my reading.
I also notice I’ve neglected my journal for the last month or so. Double-plus ungood. So I’ve kick-started that again these last couple of days.
I need to write every day, otherwise I start to fold back in on myself. If anything, that first 30 minutes of each day, where I read over what I wrote the day before and tease each idea out a little more, is vital to my approaching the day in a positive frame of mind.
I also saw the fall this week. First time in eight years and they were brilliant. Ok, not ‘1983’ brilliant – or even ‘1999’ brilliant, but smith’s spent the best part of the last forty years right out on the fucking edge, so yeah, he’s starting to curl at the edges. He lasted thirty minutes onstage, before performing one song from behind the guitar amp, then doing the next couple offstage. He came back on and managed one more and it was over.

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

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bunnied

Guaranteed – absolutely NO traces of horse DNA anywhere in this novel. And that’s the truth – or my name’s not David Cameron.

twenty-four hours – world of skin

Less than twenty-four since I finished ‘person-hair’ and the ideas are coming thick and fast, like a porn-film plumber.
It’s starting to look like there’ll be a third ‘dreich NOiR’ novel, mibby even a fourth. I feel like I’m churning, ideas exploding out of me like a collapsing star.
Of course, this is the easy bit. The spewing of concepts ‘n’ fragments in the general direction of the target. (And if I *do* write #4, it may well contain reality tv, BDSM and prison-rape. So, yeah – it’s a love story, naturally.)
This is only the second time I’ve actively taken steps to write a sequel to a finished novel. And, rather than base it around the same old characters, (okay, a couple, I admit it!) I’m building in new characters – whole new families – as well as developing some of the ones from ‘person-hair’.
Character will always drive plot, but plot will almost never drive character.
I’ve pretty much outlined the thing. Figured out some of what the characters will be faced with (but not how they’ll respond).
Which, if this one turns out as far away from my outline as the last one did, will be a rollercoaster made of surprises.

*person-hair, getting out,

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

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bunnied

Guaranteed – absolutely NO traces of horse DNA anywhere in this novel. And that’s the truth – or my name’s not David Cameron.

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