Family Planning

I like this picture. I don't usually like pictures of myself at all but this one is kinda neat because I don't take up too much space in it. If you're wondering what's going on here, me and Hector are on a research trip for a 'future project'. That's all you need to know for at least a year...

Proof number one of The Family of Noise arrived this morning, so that's the rest of the week pretty much figured out on the writing front. I've sat with it for an hour already with The Unholy Stick (aka: a red pen) to put a few things right and it's looking good. Looking sharp even.

Even the greatest copy editor in the universe cannot concentrate on such a thing for 24 hours a day - not would I want to. Lucky then that in the gaps, I need to work on both the softback and the hardback covers. The softback is more or less wrapped up bar a few nudges but I'm still not sure where to take the hardback cover - if anywhere. There's a part of me that would like to make it different but that might be the part of me that just likes to make things awkward for myself. Why would you want to confuse a product by making it look like two different things...

I probably answered my own question there didn't I. 

Anyway, I'm excited that we have come to this point. It will be good to get it out there. Onwards! 

Meanwhile, I have two magazines on the table along with a 'moving along' copy of Almost Human - which keeps staring up at me from the corner of the room. To escape, I have unwittingly submerged myself in a TV show. I didn't mean to get quite so consumed by it, but it is after all, excellent, so that's OK.

It's not Super Essential like say, GoT but it's more than good enough to keep me company into the night. Welcome to SALEM. And they sure do have a good line in promotional posters:

I say it's not Super Essential but I appear to be barrelling through it at quite a rate so maybe it's more essential than I thought...

...and so, back to work.

Literary Things

This turned up earlier this week and I hid it from myself and forgot to post it:

Somebody went to a lot of trouble to do that - or at least it looks that way. Maybe it was some slacker working in a corporate job who figured 'fuck it' and spent a morning doing his own thing that was worthwhile. I'd like to think that's how it was put together anyway.

So if you're struggling with some writing, what we can gather from this diagram is... just keep going. Even when all hope is lost, keep putting one word after the other because you never know how things might turn out. More than anything, perhaps this is a diagram of hope.

Meanwhile, my love of noir and pulp novels is no secret. I think everybody loves pulp really - they just don't like to admit it in public. Whether you're a public or a closet lover, if you're also into comic books, Hard Case Crime and Titan are about to release a couple of noir/pulp serials - Triggerman and Peepland. While they appear to be pushing Peepland as the flagship title in the series, it's Triggerman that I'm liking the look of... here's some sneak things that they unleashed earlier today:

There's a lot of scraps around the web trailering both titles so I won't kill the treasure hunt for you but it looks good to me. 

The crows upgraded their gift allowance this week too. After feeding the rabbits, I accidentally left a whole bunch of things on top of their houses along with a whole bag of fresh straw. The following morning, I let Hector out and wandered up the garden with him and found this sitting on top of one of the roofs:

At first, I thought it was a metal dog stolen from a Celtic hoard but on second inspection, it appears to be a plate from the front of a drawer - the fixing that the handle attaches to. I wish I had stuck with my first inspection now, but the thought is there. I'm not sure how good this next photograph is but here they all are... doing their thing:

I tried to make out the sky writing and what they were trying to say but I wasn't quick enough... maybe next time.

That's all for today... Friday's Burn Baby, Burn playlist will be with you sometime late Friday night along with some other random scraps of happiness for the weekend. Meanwhile, I must deliver my next instalment of Beautiful Creatures to Sean, go through some pictures I took of a Gateway To Everlasting Fire I found, finish up a travel piece on Siberia that I'm working on for The Mag, rustle up a synopsis for a big push on the 'finally completed forever' Family Of Noise (did I not mention that before?), and ummm... that's probably enough. 

Oh yeah... and put out the trash for collection. I'll do that now. 

WRITE YOUR HEART OUT

This week I've been making a road map of where it is I'm going right now. It's good to take stock of what you've got going on whatever it is you're doing - sometimes the results of such a meeting with yourself are pretty good and sometimes they can be shitty as hell. Either way, a meeting with yourself is usually pretty short and constructive unless you're careless and can't help but distract yourself with umm... a distraction.

If you're about to enter such a meeting with yourself, don't forget - not every day can be an all-time high. All that matters in the end is the work because one day you'll be dust in the wind and you don't want to leave behind a memory of being a miserable bastard your whole life just because things didn't go your way.

Anyway, to begin, I got grilled last week (or was it the week before?) by the guys at Infected Books for the release of The Family Of Noise and you can find the results of that right here. It's tempting for me to ramble on about what I actually talk about there but I'm learning to simply shut the hell up sometimes. Thanks for your time guys. It was emotional.

•••

Also before I forget, on my travels, I unearthed this gem from Emil at Old London Road tattoo studio. I've seen a few Bukowski nuggets over the last few years but this is great:

•••

While I was sticking pins in a map, (it's not a real map obviously, but now I think about it, there might something quite neat about hanging one on the wall. It's almost as cool as having one of those glass walls they use on crime shows for pinning up evidence), I came across some great images of St. Mark's Bookshop from when they moved premises last year. Take a look at these because all bookshops should damn well be like this (or at least variations thereof):

That's a thing of beauty right there. The whole shop was worked on by Clouds Architecture Office - if you hit that link, you'll also find some explanations behind the images along with some other great work - even if architecture is not your bag, you've got to hand it to them, that's one happening store.

•••

It just dawned on me that it's only a week until we do Publish & Be Damned at Waterstones. I actually have my shit together - or at least enough of it that I'm not concerned it will fall around my ankles like a pair of pants with no belt. I'm sad to say, there will be no pyro. I did ask but health and safety in the coffee shop absolutely forbids pyro of any kind. There are a whole bunch of flyers that look like this in store:

Help yourself to a handful and distribute them amongst your friends and neighbours - probably best if they are planning on writing a book but then again, I'll drink coffee with anybody so it's not a prerequisite.

•••

Currently reading:

...and it's really damn good.

THE INTERESTING

A bad thing happened yesterday. We were fixing up Hector's dinner and had Pointless on the TV - pretty normal afternoon routine - when the show flashed up a full screen image of Chairman Mao. 

Hector lost it and for the rest of the evening, gave the TV a wide berth and was acting like something awful was about to happen. I guess when you're not expecting somebody to show up in your house and suddenly, there they are (especially Chairman Mao) it can have a pretty adverse effect on your psyche. 

Tonight, he is still very wary of the TV just in case that Mao fellow turns up again.

Dog's are weird sometimes. 

•••

Book shopping this evening - there's a lot of good stuff around at the moment, which is also weird because last week I couldn't find a damn thing. Anyway, this is today's acquire: 

I think I shall down tools, throw the big red switch and nest in a corner of the lounge with it later. This is something I've been considering a lot lately. It's frighteningly easy to become a person who feels the need to take out a magical miniature machine in order to contribute to a world that shouts and points at everything all at the same time.

Have you ever sat back and considered exactly how much a tool of your tool you have become?

I don't want either of those things, do you?

•••

Now that I've pretty much finished The Family Of Noise, I don't ever want to write a book in that way again. It's been pretty fractal along the way. The important thing is that I learned something, i.e: there must be a better way to write a book than the way I wrote that one. 

Having said that - dancing stars are only created out of chaos, so don't quote me on any of that. I might just change my mind if it doesn't work. 

Just thought I would drop that in the run here being as it was in my head.

•••

What else can I tell you - yesterday I interviewed Darcy Oake. We talked for a long time about many things including Harry Blackstone, the psychology of human beings and how bad your mobile phone reception can be in London - a real-live first world problem, believe me. I'll post the interview here when it's done and link it up and all of those other things but first I must publish it elsewhere (obviously) and I'll link to that as soon as it's alive and kicking too.

I also decided that I want one of these - it's a Citroen DS - because this is just the kind of thing someone like me needs to drive. It's what's known as a measure. When I can afford to buy one of these fully restored, then I shall consider myself, officially 'getting somewhere'. 

It's not a 'fuck you' statement like an Aston Martin or anything. I consider it a perfectly reasonable measure of getting somewhere at around £15,000. 

Which really just leaves me with this:

And this:

A Fistful Of Culture

It's that time of year again. The time of year when I make a valiant attempt to plough through as many books as I can in the face of an ever mounting drift of festive tomfoolery. Actually, does anybody remember that show? It was the sort of thing they ploughed out on TV during a Sunday afternoon between a bout of Tex Avery and Walter Lantz while adults got on with grown up chores like mowing the lawn or cooking, thinking it would keep us amused - and they were right! Oh, how easily us children of the 70s must have been to keep occupied and out of the way as suburbia revolved on its axis.

Whatever happened to cartoons on TV? I can't remember the last time I saw a Tom & Jerry, a Droopy or a Mister Magoo cartoon. Here's a reminder - and it's a classic:

Lost my train of thought there. Next on the reading list after STONER (which is so damn good, I've already bought another three copies to hand out to people that I think will appreciate them - so much for not buying any more books huh) is this:

I like a good rock n roll story, particularly when it comes from the early years of the band I worshipped on my knees for far too much of my life. The three years that this book covers and maybe a couple more tagged onto the back end up until maybe 1977 are all I need from them. I'll have finished it by tomorrow so luckily, sitting right next to it in the shelf is this:

And if you can't tell what it's about from the cover alone, you came to the wrong place. Sheesh - all you have to do it read that big round sticker type thing and that's it in a nutshell. I don't give that much longer than 24 hours either to be honest.

And then? I'm not sure where to head next, probably back into something hefty and story-like. Maybe a book from somebody who's doing nothing more than wandering around the avenues and alleyways of the world with their teeny-weeny finger curled - and ain't that Thomas O'Malley theme from The Aristocats one of the greatest movie soundtrack songs of all time? Let me see if I can find it...

I wish I had a theme tune like that. Perhaps I should change my name instead?

•••

I've made it sound like I've been doing nothing but reading and watching crap on YouTube but that's not true! No Sir. Wrapping up the first edits of The Eternity Ring here which I'm really pleased with but I now need to throw it in a drawer for a week to get some editing distance 0n it. Also made some serious impact on The Family Of Noise as well but tomorrow I'm in full author mode to see exactly how much of that I can nail down.

There's nothing but a small (though getting bigger) dog standing between me and success on that front.

This Road Is Littered With Scarecrows And Faeries

I've discovered this weekend - but really knew it all along - that writing a book is not simply a matter of turning up at the page. It's half the battle for sure, but when the words that come out of the end of your fingers don't match up to the vision you had in your head, this causes trouble. I'm certain that I'm not alone in this find either - and why did that word 'battle' slip so easily into this paragraph? Surely the writing thing should be a joy, not a war to be won by beating nobody but yourself up. Yesterday, this is exactly what happened. I sat down to push forward with The Family Of Noise and wrote an easy chapter that, by the time I had finished, simply didn't belong. I put it to one side and decided it could perhaps be something in its own right. This is not the first time this has happened but it is the first time I've actually set something aside to do something constructive with. Would it be bad to admit that if, in the past, something didn't fit it found itself in the trash with no hope of a return to the real world? I guess it's not worth thinking about because the trash has been emptied. If writers pull stories from a big pool in the sky - as I believe they do - then it's only fair that if you're not going to do anything with the fish you caught, you should throw it back for somebody else to pick up and make a meal out of.

It won't be a very long story but the story is there to be told and I'm claiming it as my own. This fish is coming home with me and this fish is called Scarecrow. My gut reaction is to work with somebody to illustrate it. It's not a children's story but it's not an adult story either. It's just a story and maybe people that like stories will like it. I even know who I want to illustrate it so I had best get it into some kind of shape to send it to him and see if he wants to work with me.

Meanwhile, after that unexpected fish had been caught, I returned to what I was supposed to be doing and really did finish what I intended to in the first place - and it was much better than I expected it to be even though it took me down a road I wasn't expecting. This has made for a day of figuring out where to go next with it but... so far, so good. I like it this way. If I have no idea what's going on, the reader has not a hope in hell.

I'm massively aware that there's a lot of talk from me at the moment about finishing things off and anybody reading must imagine there to be something like ten projects all waiting to be wrapped up and you wouldn't be wrong. I've tried working on only one project at a time but it doesn't work for me. I much prefer this concept of working on several canvases at a time and seeing how things turn out. So while the actual work might take some time to reach its destination, at least we had a good trip, saw some cool things out of the window along the way and met some great people. It's the difference between launching the Maps app on your phone, following the voice and the route that everybody else will be taking, getting where you're supposed to be going quickly and efficiently or getting in the car with a vague idea of where you're going but being as nobody is really expecting you at the other end, why not take a look around and be inspired along the way. Those inspirations lead to other adventures and so it goes on...

There's a part of me that says this is wrong, but I spend my life working to deadlines (fast and sharp deadlines too) with the magazine, so I'm not going to beat myself up about it.

•••

On my travels of putting the science fiction book together - note to self: remember to put a page up for it as it goes on sale next week - I found many incredible sights that don't really come under any heading at all. One of them was the work of Henry Justice Ford. I had never heard of him before but he was one serious motherfkr when it came to making shit up and is most famed for his work on Andrew Lang's Fairy Books. Here's some of his work - why there isn't more jaw-droppingly incredible work like this out in the world today is beyond me:

But I remain hopeful all the same because my buddy Richey Beckett has this beautiful print available for sale right here - snap it up before they're all gone:

Frosting On The Railroad

The diary is getting full - no complaints here though. Next month (that would be September if I have my facts correct) sees a double-headed working trip to Colorado, delivering the first draft of The Family Of Noise to my pseudo-agent, wrapping up the Sci-Fi Tattoos book and a house move on the cards - throw into the mix that the day I come back from the States, Eleanor leaves to go to some week long 'thing' in Dubai and that's September pretty much finished before it has begun. Also on the cards somewhere in there is a meeting about re-booting The Ballad Of The Goat-Faced Boy project which I have medium-sized hopes of getting back on the table after it fell off. Not that I actually have a diary - I can't think of anything worse then having a diary when you have lots on your plate. That would be just one big fat reminder of all the things you hadn't done.

Talking of things I haven't done - I have quite a long short story that I need to wrap up: The Run-Along Man Sells Spoons. It's quite something - well I like it anyway. Now I have written that down I think I may have mentioned it here before. It needs shopping out into the big wide-world somehow so I'm going to take some time out soon and see if I can talk anybody into playing host to Arthur Conan Doyle crosses paths with Monster Magnet. It's clocking in at 10,000 words right now - so that's quite a long short story really. Let's see how it wants to end and take it from there.

•••

I used to love magazines for their own sake - that ought to be obvious being as I've spent most of my adult life around then in some form or other. Is it my imagination, or are they suffering badly right now? My own mag aside (obviously as I'm not allowed to have an opinion about that) , the only other magazine I buy and read without fail every single month is Vanity Fair. (I love the way the distributors think they know the mag and choose to sell it amongst women's magazines almost as much as I love the way they think they know my mag and choose to sell it either with bike mags or up on the top shelf). Vanity Fair is excellent  - it has world class writers, doesn't skimp on the photography, has superb thought behind the production and the iPad edition rocks hard too. I take a lot of cues from Vanity Fair but hopefully, nobody can tell.

So, this week, I picked up a copy of National Geographic Traveller hoping for inspiration because I love travel writing when it's from the heart. But that's not what I got...

What I got, mostly, was 180 odd pages of watered down press releases that do nothing more than appease advertisers. There's a couple of good (even great) features in there but for the most part, that's not what I expected from National Geographic at all. When you see a story about New York and the intro says "If you think you've seen New York, think again" and the pictures that follow are of the Statue of Liberty, Central Park, Grand Central and a shot of the skyline... well it doesn't bode well for wanting to really get into the guts of the thing. When did readers become stupid and lazy? (I'm tempted to state here that it was the day they switched the internet on but it's asking for trouble).

That left me with two trains of thought:

1. Mail National Geographic and tell them that when they were tired of their editor, they should maybe give me a call. I'm not perfect but that mag needs some big steel balls if National Geographic are going to keep their reputation intact going forward. Then again, what the hell would they do with a loose cannon on the deck?

or:

2. Start my own travel writing blog where I could see if I was able to back up Point 1 in relative safety. Yeah... it's easy for me to sit here and take a pot shot but in my defence, I'm not doing it anonymously. Could I be good at travel writing? Could I be great at travel writing? Could I be the most loved and hated travel writer of all time?

Not a clue. Let's build a blog to work with and see how that pans out. I'll be sure to mention it when it goes live and you can all pile in with your size tens if you wish.

Anyway, if you want travel writing done properly, pick up a copy of the book (or audiobook - which is also top notch) Travels With Charley from John Steinbeck. It may be over 50 years old but hey, Game. Set. Match as far as I'm concerned.

•••

On which subject - take a look at this train which is run by Renfe I believe - it's a luxury cruise liner and I would give many, many right arms (don't care who they belong to) to write a story about it for... well, I'd write about it for anybody to be honest. If you guys pick this up from a tag, sincerely... drop me a line and let's set something up.

•••

That was a lot of words without even so much as a picture break, so to make up for it, here's The Posies performing the entire - yeah, ENTIRE - Frosting On The Beater album at Donostikluba 2008 (which I believe is in San Sebastian). Go make tea first... it's over an hour long.