Time is ticking away. It feels like I only got here a few minutes ago, and already I’m only a number of hours away from heading off to the Edinburgh Festival for almost two weeks. I’m halfway between looking forward to it and slightly nervous about it, as well as feeling like I’m not going to be able to make the most of it- there was a certain sense of being locked out of certain areas of the party last time, and it’s likely to be the same this time. Anyway, I have at least been invited to the Tartan Films party on the Wednesday- although I’ll be surprised if it’s quite as much glorious fun as the Guy X party last year. Still, I may yet get the chance to don my boogie shoes, and Edinburgh may also give me some more chances to do some work on the book.

Talking of which… I finally caught up with my friend Claire, and had the chance to talk about the book in serious depth. The end result is that I’ve got a much better idea of what I’m doing- and while there’s a long way to go, I’m actually feeling confidant that I might get there, and I might also end up with a really fun and engaging novel. My head is spinning, and there’s plenty to be done. While a lot of what she said was pointing out problems and mistakes- it was all massively helpful in clarifying what’s wrong with the story, and where I want it to go.

Saw a film called PURITAN today- a bit of a mess of a supernatural thriller, which suffered from the kind of moody lighting where it looks like nobody’s paid for their electricity (there was even a rich mansion that looked surprisingly dingy!). A great performance from an actress called Georgina Rylance, but much of it was rather vague, and I guessed the big twist halfway through (which is rare- I’m usually hopeless at spotting them). A couple of good moments, but it really didn’t work out in the end.

My website is close to being tidied up and sorted- it should be there by the weekend.

I’m also trying not to get too freaked by the fuss surrounding the latest ‘terrorist outrage’, and the fact that suddenly the whole aspect of not being allowed to take hand luggage (and things like books being forbidden) may become a permanent part of air travel. To be honest, having suffered a lengthy plane journey to America and back, the idea of being stranded alone with the in-flight entertainment and nothing else for hours on end is rather horrifying, and I’m certainly glad that I’m not likely to be doing it anytime soon. I think what worries me is that it’s yet another area where fear is taking over, and that it’s likely to stay that way. There’s a fantasic post by Charles Stross here that talks about this- and yes, it’s very easy to talk about this kind of thing when if I’d had any contact with terrorism or if I’d lost someone close as a result of terrorism I’d probably have a completely different viewpoint- but there is so much being done by the Government that’s playing on the politics of fear. The whole “War on Terrorism” always struck me as utterly ridiculous- when, exactly, are we going to win? When democracy rules across the Middle East? When Hell freezes over? And now, there’s an easy demonic force to be used to scare everybody into line. Do as we say, otherwise swarthy Islamic nutcases will come after you with their evil liquid explosives! (I can bet that liquid explosives is going to be the next ‘WMD’ in terms of media-happy catchphrases). Considering that the whole reason why the terrorists are doing this in the first place is to create a climate of fear and distrust, isn’t playing along with that fear and distrust basically giving them what they want? There has to be more positive ways of doing this, rather than just guarenteeing more misery for the 99.9% of Muslims who aren’t psychotic fundamentalists, and more general all-purpose paranoia for the rest of us. I wish the whole technological-accelerating Singularity would just hurry up and happen so that humanity can ascend to the next level, as I’m getting a bit fed up of the complete mess that our so-called “rulers” are making.

Gosh. After that unexpected burst of politics, I feel the need to lie down…

Another weekend slides by, and another selection of work from Hotdog meant that it all went rather damn smoothly. We’re currently having a brief journey down to George’s parents- the green and the quiet is doing us an awful lot of good, and I also drove a car for the first time in nearly a decade. I passed my driving test on the fifth go in late 1996, and circumstances since then have meant I haven’t gotten behind the wheel since, meaning I was as twitchy and tense as you’d expect. It was a basic drive up and down a country road experience, but I think it’s actually driven home that I might need a few refresher lessons before I’m reasy to actually cope with life on the roads.

I also got my first full feedback from someone who’s read the current version of the novel- and they were very positive, pointing out plenty of problems but in a constructive way. There’s a couple of big problems that I might need to look into in more detail, but I think most of it is sortable. I’m not quite as wounded as I expected to be.

Also- in an update to the long-running saga of my friend Tris, he’s actually gone and done it. The Bee Gees spoof video ‘When He’s Gone’, where I manned the camera for most of the shoot and also make brief appearences throwing shapes and doing something that could loosely be described as “dancing”, has finally been placed on YouTube by Tris.

Buckle up…

In the next few days, I’ll try and tell a little of the story behind this shoot. It was, as they say, a bit of an experience, but a very enjoyable one.

More soon…

I posted the last entry… but I forgot one important thing.

It’s already online. The resolution isn’t exactly huge, but it’s all there.

So, if you fancy watching me indulging in titanic levels of overacting in an enjoyably rickety no-budget improvised spoof of an Eighties action series that was filmed when I was the tender age of 19 (ah, nostalgia,) then click below for the sheer, unadulterated daftness that is ‘The New Airwolf: The Next Generation’

http://angen0ir.free.fr/Airwolf/Video/Airwolf.mpg

And don’t say I didn’t warn you…

I’m spending today at IPC sub-editing, and it’s one of those days with a number of lulls, giving me enough time to at least collect my thoughts and ruminate on things. A possible link to someone who might have been interested in moving into the flat in September made things a little interesting for the last twenty four hours, but it turns out that they’re looking for something with two bedrooms (our place is described as ‘two bedrooms’, but only because there was originally a bed in what was very obviously intended as the lounge). Still, we’re trying to be positive about the situation, and the next step is looking into getting George some kind of income down in Hampshire- once that’s in place, then we can afford to roll the dice, move out of Bounds Green, and see how it goes. It’d be nice to have a clearer idea of how we’re going to do this, but I’m trying to keep a positive outlook on things. Whatever happens, we’re going to make it through.

I’m also experiencing a spike of work at the moment, with about £245 worth of comissions coming in yesterday. I spent last night watching a daffy martial arts film called HAPKIDO (lots of crash zooms and broken bones) and then writing the review- tonight, I’ve got a 2 1/2 hour Italian crime drama called ROMANZO CRIMINALE, and then I’ve got to go home and review a SAPPHIRE AND STEEL audio drama. It’s good to be busy, and I want to try and make the most of my opportunities over the Edinburgh and London Film Festivals. It’s probably helping me keep my mind off the fact that somewhere, out there, people are reading my book in it’s current state. Gulp…

For anyone who’s been following (or terrified by) the saga of my friend Tris and his determination to introduce me to the frightening world of Bary Gibb’s concept video album ‘Now Voyager’, you can now view one whole segment thanks to the miracle of Youtube.

If you do watch, just remember- this is actually one of the least scary sections of the film- and there’s 75 more minutes where that came from. Be afraid, be very afraid…

He also- rather unsettlingly- sent me this link to Youtube,

which is the original version of a Bee Gees video that I helped Tris to spoof, in a version where he played all three Bee Gees to a quite terrifying degree of accuracy. I thought for a minute that he’d actually uploaded the spoof version, and I hope he does at some point- along with the surreal wonderment that is ‘The New Airwolf- The Next Generation’, a video project of ours that’s going to take a bit of explanation…

I rather wish I had the ability to get video online at the moment- there’s a whole pile of stuff that I’d love to get onto Youtube- some of which is hilarious, some of which is awful, and some of which I’m extremely proud of. One day, I tell you. One day…

(And, just so you know, I grabbed the title of this entry out of a Horror Film encyclopaedia which was on a shelf in front of me. It’s a film that’s also known as ‘The Last Cannibal on Earth’. Hurrah!)

I just sent out my novel to a small collection of people so that they can read it.

Don’t Panic. Don’t Panic…

One week is a long time in politics, and an even longer time when it’s ridiculously hot. Thankfully, the temperatures have varied slightly over the last few days, so it hasn’t been quite as blisteringly unpleasent as it was for the two days when I got back. Plus, I’ve actually been able to sleep relatively well for a few nights, so the world is feeling a little more livable, and a little more human. I’ve had plenty of screenings to go to, a day of subbing, and my final tweaks to the book. I’m currently in the process of reformatting it, and am only five chapters away from being able to send the rough, shambling “workprint” version of the book out to a whole selection of people. Whether they like it or not is a different story…

The issue of leaving London has, at least, been clarified a little. We could, if we wanted to, leave London relatively soon, but we would have to find new tenants (or, at least, new tenants would need to be found, as we’d be responsible for the rent until they were). We would, conceivably, be able to advertise for new people, and maybe find them that way, but it does leave a big question mark over the whole procedure of not knowing exactly when we’d be able to stop paying rent on this place. One possible idea that we’re throwing around is possibly moving in with George’s parents for a little while, as an interim thing- it’s not ideal by any stretch of the imagination, but it may be the only way that we’re going to be able to do this. Added to this, there’s a nice house coming up for rent just around the corner from where George’s sister lives, but it’s probably going to be available from about the middle of September- which is way too early for us. The one thing we are certain on is that we want to get out of London, and that getting out before the end of 2006 would be ideal (February next year is as far as I’d like to stretch it). It’s a scary, weird situation, and there’s a side of me that’s thinking “Oh my GAHHD! How am I going to live? How am I going to earn money?”, but it’s going to happen, and I guess I’d just like to do it in a way which doesn’t create a gigantic financial cloud of woe that’ll be following us for years, or end up putting strain on relationships by leaving us stuck in one situation or another for a little too long.

Preparations for Edinburgh are continuing- I have my press accreditation, and I’m managing to see some of the films already, so that I can concentrate on catching the weirder stuff once I’m up there.

I’ve also started to write for Hotdog again, which might make anyone who’s read this blog think “What?!? Aren’t they the guys who lost you £4,500 earlier this year?” Well, yes they are, but I did manage to receive a small amount of the money thanks to one of my articles being held over until after the magazine changed owners. It wasn’t much, but it did at least make me feel that I had received something, and I basically ended up feeling that as I really can’t stand the whole ‘finding new outlets’ side of this buisiness, that it would make more sense to connect up with the guys at Hotdog than make myself jump through hoops to write for places that I’m not even sure I want to write for. I get on with them, I know how to write for them, and with novel-writing becoming my main priority, I wanted to get to a place where I could worry a little less about the other side of things. And, as it turns out, I’ve already gotten a selection of small reviews- including Battlestar Galactica Season 2 on DVD, which I’ve been watching and thoroughly enjoying today. I’m regarding it as a positive step, and hopefully soon, I’ll be able to find out exactly where we’ll be heading next.

This may be one of the hardest homecomings I’ve ever experienced.

The one thing that hasn’t been difficult has been seeing George. After a hot and uncomfortable train ride, I got into Paddington on Thursday afternoon to find that she wasn’t actually waiting for me on the platform- cue a couple of worries, and a number of frustrated tries on her mobile, before the realisation sank in that she was probably delayed on the Tube. And then, there she was, sporting a brand new bright blue headscarf and one of the biggest grins I’d seen in a very long time. Major level hugs, and it was so, so nice to be back with her, reminding me exactly how much she means to me, and how wonderful it is to be with her.

What’s hard is being back in London after nearly four weeks of being in the wilds of Cornwall on my own, and I really wasn’t expecting this. I think it hit me when I got home for the first time, and went into the bathroom- and there, we have two little plants, one of which I bought for George when we visited the Eden Project a little while back. They’re lovely little plants- but they’re the only green things in the flat. I’ve gone from being surrounded by green and living things and lush, gorgeous life, to a place where the only green that’s not at least twenty minutes walk away is in a small pot in the bathroom. And suddenly, I miss the garden in Cornwall like crazy. I miss feeding the fish, and leaving crumbs for the birds, and all the little day-to-day procedures.

I guess another thing that I’ve found difficult is that I finally spoke to the landlord about the whole ‘moving out early’ question, and while it wasn’t all bad news, it wasn’t quite what I’d hoped for either. Basically, he might be prepared to let the contract go a couple of months early- so April 26th 2007 rather than June 26th 2007- but it would probably depend on him finding new people to fill the flat, and if we wanted to move out earlier, we would be legally required to pay the rent until June, or until he found someone new. It’s not an impossible situation, and it’s not like he’s being unreasonable about it- but it does open up the possibility that the only way we’d be able to do it early is to enter the same kind of ‘let’s hope that we can find someone to take our place on the contract’ nonsense that I was hoping that we’d said goodbye to when we got out of the houseshare in Dundalk Road. June 26th 2007 seems like a terribly long way away, and I know that while I’d be able to cope with this until then (just), I know that George simply won’t be able to. I think getting her to cope with London up until February next year will be hard enough for her, but we’re looking at possibilities, and the one thing which we do have on our side is time.

That does, however, mean much more time in this flat, which thanks to the heatwave is now particularly grotesque to live in. It’s raging hot and stuffy in here in the summer, and in six months time I’ll be freezing my arse off, and it’s too much of a change. There are very few points where it’s genuinely cool- and the air gets so hot outside that we have to keep the windows closed and the curtains drawn in a desperate bid to keep the heat out. Heat always flattens me, and leaves me cranky, grouchy and unable to think, so it’s been tricky at points over the last couple of days- particularly the first night, when I really didn’t sleep well. One of the biggest changes is exactly how bloody noisy it is here- I’ll get used to it after a while, but it really is a shock, as was suddenly being around crowds of people going through Soho yesterday on the way to a screening. My brain was just saying “too many people!! too many!!”, and considering that in the last two years, some of my happiest times have been when we’ve been somewhere pleasent and green where there were hardly any other people around, I think life is trying to tell me that, even if it’s a little distance away, I need to get myself out into the country, miles from anywheere, in a little place that’s tucked out of sight with a garden. That, I think, would make me seriously happy.

Anyhow, I slept better last night thanks to drinking like crazy so I didn’t get dehydrated, and it’s possible I might be able to get a few things done today without slowing down into a complete fug. Yes, things may seem a little difficult at the moment, but I’ve got some more subbing work coming up- one day next week, and three the week after, and then I’ve got the Edinburgh Festival, so there’s going to be plenty to do and plenty to keep me occupied.

Just to flashback in a slightly non-linear style, Dad, Linda and Tom arrived safely on Wednesday night, having been able to avoid the horror of the train by arranging for a surprisingly cheap taxi (£240 from Gatwick to Cornwall) to take them all the way home. It was great to see them- if a little weird to have people at the house- and the little problems that had happenned while they were away (like accidentally leaving ring-shaped marks on a wooden work-top) turned out to be easily solvable. I arranged for a taxi the morning after, just to take the pressure off Dad, and said goodbye at about 9.50 am. I was sorry to have to leave, and hopefully it won’t be too long before I’m back.

(Mild spoilers for Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest below!)

On Thursday night, George and I had a Pizza, and then went to the cinema to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest (from heron in referred to as POTC2)- and sadly, while it might mean I’m turning into a bit of a curmedgeonly sod, I didn’t actually enjoy it that much. There are a selection of very cool moments, the whole thing looks gorgeous, and there’s some beautiful CGI- and also, in terms of sequels this isn’t one where they’ve completely screwed it up. It’s a lively, colourful bit of blockbuster nonsense that certainly gives you your moneys worth in terms of big-scale action and daftness, but it didn’t manage to transport my slightly tired and overheated psyche into the same level of glorious fun that POTC1 managed. It’s in no way the kind of mess that MATRIX RELOADED was, but it suffers from a few of the same problems- a story that’s been allowed to spill over into two movies in a rather undisciplined way, a sense of slightly bloated excess, and the feeling that having a couple of restrictions in the budget might actually have been a good thing. The story has to jump through far too many hoops in order to get virtually every single character from the original film back together again, and mainly consists of an insane number of quests strung together in a random order, rather than the cleaner, and slightly more ordered storytelling in the first movie, which meant that, for me, the film ended up feeling rather shapeless and incredibly long. My only real criticism of POTC1 is that it’s too long- you could edit out at least ten (if not fifteen) minutes, and while you’d lose some fun moments, it wouldn’t actually affect the story in the slightest and the film itself would be much tighter. The same problem affects POTC2, and sadly they end up messing up a couple of aspects that I really liked in the first film- the fact that Commodore Norrington was actually played as essentially a decent, honorable man rather than the uptight English stereotype that he could so easily have been, and the fact that they didn’t play the relationship between Will, Elizabeth and Jack Sparrow as a love triangle (which is one of the things that makes the first film such fun- Sparrow is convinced that he’s got a chance with Elizabeth, when it’s made plainly obvious by the climax that he never did). Both these aspects are thoroughly reversed in this film, and it’s both a little obvious and rather a shame. George enjoyed it much more than I did- and I may try it again at some point (although, whatever happens, it’s a much lesser film than the original, and all the box-office in the world won’t change that), but ultimately it stretched the laws of physics way too far, and I’ve yet to be convinced that filming back-to-back sequels like this actually works. I’m also slightly bothered by the way that LORD OF THE RINGS has opened the way for films like this, where they don’t need to even bother having an ending. It’s not as abrupt or dumb as MATRIX RELOADED, but it is rather like EMPIRE STRIKES BACK if they accidentally ended it ten minutes early, and the idea of guaranteeing an audience for a sequel next May by giving as little resolution as possible is, to be honest, rather annoying. Still, it’s always possible that it may bounce back with POTC3, so we shall have to see how it goes.

This weekend is lots of sorting out, and hopefully- as long as I can persuade my brain to work- trying to solve the last couple of tweaks on the novel before I send it out to people. I’m both excited and deeply nervous about the idea, but I need to do it quick, as the sooner I get some decent reactions, the better.

Interesting Trailer Linkage:

The Prestige– looks very promising, very atmospheric, and with plenty of moustache action.

The Fountain– a very long-gestating sci-fi project from Darren Aronofsky. Looks to be mega-trippy.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles– CG looks like the perfect vehicle for this, and they’ve captured the style of the original comic books rather well. Could be good…

The Children of Men– gritty near-future apocalyptic stuff, although a pity about the somewhat ‘rousing’ music towards the end.

My novel started out, originally, as a quick romp. It was going to be a nice, relatively small, fun escapade that would get me writing without having to do anything massive. Proving that in the world of writing you can never expect what’s going to happen next, it’s ended up somewhat different from what I originally intended. After a frenetic week of rewriting and plugging of gaps, there is a small amount of housekeeping, rewriting and tweaking that I want to do this weekend- but after that, I am finished for this phase, and I enter the even more frightening phase of sending it out to people and seeing what they think of this patchwork quilt/Frankenstein’s monster that I’ve built. And the final total that I’ve gotten to is… 412 pages, and 186,494 words. It somehow swelled nearly 30,000 words in the last week and a half. I am, as they say, agog. Of course, the next thing I’ve got to do is try to turn them into 186,494 words (or less) that someone’s actually going to want to publish, but I am hugely proud of what I’ve acheived. This morning, I was mainly writing the epilogue of the story- and there were a few moments where I got that wonderfully weird sensation where it started writing itself, the characters started speaking to me, and stuff I never would have expected myself to think up started appearing in my head. It also ended up a lot better than I was expecting, and it’s strange to think that- bar some reshuffling at the weekend- the story that I first thought up in 1999 is actually written down in a complete form. The process from hereon in is still going to be difficult, but I feel better that I’ve at least gotten this far and am still standing.

Also, it’s the last day of my time in the wilderness, and I’m really going to miss being here. The third week alone proved to be tough, but I bounced back eventually, and overall it’s been surprisingly pleasent. I think the idea of being miles away from anywhere quite appeals to me, and the rhythmns of the day- doing exercises, feeding the fish, watering the plants- helped me through admirably. I had some doubts before I came down as to whether or not I was actually doing the right thing, but now I know for certain. It’s been a great time, and- if everything had gone according to plan- I would currently be welcoming Dad, Linda and Tom back from their travels. Unfortunately, they got delayed for four hours coming out of Auckland in New Zealand because of fog- and that has thrown the rest of their travel plans into a bit of a tailspin. I got a call from Dad last night, as they were apparently put up in a rather grotty hotel in Singapore while they waited for their next connection, and it turns out that instead of flying down from London, they’re now going to have to take the train, meaning they probably won’t get here until 10pm at the earliest. As a result, I’ve ended up with a little more alone time than I expected, and I’ve booked a taxi to get me to the station tomorrow morning, as the last thing I want is for Dad to be driving around with the galactic levels of jet-lag he’s probably going to be experiencing (He was already tired when he called me!). So, it’s a little wrinkle to the end of my time here, but hopefully everything else will go relatively smoothly, and they won’t have too traumatic a trip down.

Back to London tomorrow- and I’m seriously looking forward to seeing George after all this time. The strange thing is, that I’m not even going to get much of a chance to get my bearings, as in just over three weeks, I’m off to Scotland for the Edinburgh Film Festival 2006.

It’s been a good time here, and I hope I get the chance to do something like this again- and hopefully sooner rather than later…

The damn thing keeps on getting more complicated. I’ve got a list of stuff that needs to be corrected before this incarnation of the novel is officially finished, and while I managed to cross off four things from the list today, I also managed to add four things that weren’t there previously. It’s like every time I look at it, I spot another error, or mistake, or inconsistancy, and it’s starting to drive me slightly potty. Added to this, I’ve only got one more day on my own. Tomorrow is my final day of solitude, and I really wanted to have everything out of the way, but I’m not certain if I can get there. There are some big gaps that I need to fill, and a couple of areas where I’m really not sure what to do (there’s a scene where I want to just cut the mechanics of a journey and get the character involved to their destination as quickly as possible- I just don’t know how to do it). Plus, I keep veering from thinking “wow, this is rather good” to “oh my god, this is so incredibly sloppy in places, I’m never going to get it right.” It’s just the fatigue talking, but… at least, I know this is what I want to do. I have to get this one sorted as soon as possible, so I can start on the next one. I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll find a way.

Gulp.

Destiny is a worrying thing at times.

Not much else to report, other than it’s been getting very hot, and I’ve just finished watching Season 4 of Buffy- which has its fair share of problems, but still scores above 5, 6 and most of 7 for it’s sheer level of daffy inventiveness, and the fact that they hadn’t completely forgotten how to do decent, funny standalone episodes at this point.

Oh dear. In danger of ranting. Must go to bed.

Hopefully, I’ll be a little calmer tomorrow…

A few days of radio silence, and things have been going okay. George has been very poorly this week, which has been bothering me somewhat, wanting to be able to look after her and give her plenty of hugs, but still being down here. I’ve been as supportive as possible- especially this morning, when one of her managers gave her a phone call which could, in polite conversation, be described as ‘unhelpful’. Thursday isn’t too far away- and I’m really looking forward to seeing her.

I’ve also, relatively firmly, decided that our vague masterplan for getting out of London really needs to be kicked into gear sooner rather than later. I’ve suggested a loose date of February next year- it can always be shifted, but just setting a date gives us something to aim for. We’re contracted until the end of June 2007 in our current place, but I’m at least going to find out what would be the problems or consequences of moving early. I’d rather not stay just because of the contract and no other reason…

Thursday saw my first genuine in-person conversation for a while, as my friend Tris came around for an evening of fun and bizarreness. As already documented on this blog here, Tris recently discovered the Barry Gibb ‘video concept album’ Now Voyager, and quite a disturbing thing it is too. Shockingly, it’s nearly 80 minutes long, padded out with some hilariously bizarre exchanges between the hairy Gibbmeister and Sir Michael Horden (who must have been seriously in need of the money), and definitely ranks as one of the weirdest things I’ve seen for a while. Most of the highlights are described in the entry linked above- although somehow, Tris managed to forget the video where Gibb is a prisoner in a futuristic world, and is showed his crimes by being driven around lots of projected images of his ’emotional crimes’ in a large motorised chair! (There’s even, rather bizarrely, flashes of softcore sex in amongst it all, showing that Top of the Pops was definitely not the target audience. The juxtaposition of Barry Gibb and bare breasts was a little too much to cope with…)

I was also forced to watch approximately two minutes of the ‘Making of Now Voyager’ featurette, where Barry Gibb claimed that cinema distributors circa 1984 were getting really keen on the idea of ‘video albums’ (I think once they saw Now Voyager, they realised their mistake…), and also decided to invent a new word- describing Now Voyager as ‘Pioneeristic’. That’s one way of putting it… Thankfully, Tris spared me any more pain, and I showed him the opening of Run Lola Run instead to balance out the agony a little.

Anyway, after suffering the awful majesty (and I do mean awful) of Now Voyager, we journeyed out to some of our old haunts- particularly Cornwall College, where we spent two gleefully enjoyable years doing our A-Levels. It’s all very different now- the main ‘Arts and Humanities’ block where we spent most of our time is long gone, and the old Trevenson Theatre where we did Theatre Studies and Performing Arts is now a photographic store. Time does have a habit of passing. Anyway, we had a great time, and it was fantastic to see him again- exactly what I needed after a week that’s mainly consisted of lots and lots of work.

The book is doing well- I’ve gotten a new version of the climactic action sequence done that’s even more fucked up and strange than the previous one, plus I’ve added lots of details. There’s a list of things I’ve got to try and do in the next three days- and then, on Wednesday, Dad, Linda and Tom are back- which is going to be a seriously peculiar experience after nearly four weeks here on my own. Anyway, I’m feeling upbeat, and I have a plan for the rest of the year that stands a reasonable chance of working.

Thursday isn’t too far away…