5033 words today on NanoWriMo. Trouble is, I think it’s left me somewhat the worse for wear. I woke up this morning feeling somewhat tired, and I’m now even worse. Things are getting on top of me, I’m feeling lonely and easily upset, and even the couple of bits of good news that happenned today didn’t really cheer me up. It’s a tiredness thing – I simply haven’t yet caught up with the fatigue from last week, so I’m going to take tomorrow as an official day off and do as little as possible. I was hoping to do a couple of big posts tonight, but they’ll have to wait. I have to believe that things are going to get better – it’s just a little difficult keeping that going in my mind right now. Things will improve. Just not right now…

It’s official. I’m done with London.

Nine days away, and the lack of updates have probably told you a certain amount about how well I’ve been doing. The London Film Festival has, to be honest, been very hard work, and it’s also taught me that I quite definitely have no desire to move back to London. For the first four nights, I was staying in a hostel just off Picadilly – the location was wonderful, but the whole place had the atmosphere of a reconditioned and redecorated Romanian mental hospital (For anyone who’s played the computer game Half Life 2, just look at the Nova Prospekt level, and you’ll have a pretty good idea) – plus, in an act of complete lunacy, the damn place didn’t actually have any kind of kitchen, so I was completely stuck with eating on the move. After that, I was staying at a friend’s house in Seven Sisters in north London, which was an awful lot nicer, but the experience of being in the grime and the noise of London virtually non-stop didn’t bring back any kind of warm nostalgia. All it did was remind me how despite all the havoc that surrounded my move out of London, the actual move itself was very sensible, and it’s given me a little perspective on Manchester – it’s a place that has its own share of noise and grime, but for the most part Manchester is like the best bits of London with the volume turned down, and it’s certainly somewhere I’ll be able to cope with for a while.

Life in London was hard work, and living Festival life is, as I’ve recorded before on this blog, exceptionally hard work at times, and doesn’t always feel like it was designed to be done by human beings. It didn’t really help that the LFF isn’t a particularly user-friendly festival, and is also (as was pointed out to me by one fellow journalist) surprisingly unfestive – there’s not really much sense of anything being celebrated. It’s simply lots and lots of work, and the sense that no matter what requests you may put in or screenings you may want to catch, there’s always somebody else the festival staff will be happy to prioritise. Several films I could have done with seeing I ended up missing – the requests weren’t granted with no explanation as to why, while at least a couple of films I saw and then found out the damn things are getting a release within the next couple of weeks, meaning my chances of getting a review out of them are virtually zero. On top of this, I got invited to an interview for the temp Christmas job I applied for in Manchester – only to find that the interview day was while I was still in London and they had no intention of rescheduling. Several disappointments and frustrations like this occurred throughout the last few days – it was one of those Murphy’s Law-like periods where anything that can go wrong does – and I did find myself emotionally falling to pieces, having the kind of days where I’d regularly find myself crying and almost physically unable to stop – emotional and physical exhaustion, mainly brought on through lack of sleep, but also the general situation I’m in getting on top of me. A film festival is not the right place for an emotional meltdown.

However, a couple of days ago things settled in my mind. Instead of being hideously angry and frustrated (a feeling that comes just as much from my own sense of wounded self-worth as it does from general reasons), I decided to do the right thing, and approach things in a positive frame of mind. Ultimately, that’s what I want out of life. It’s like I get tunnel vision when I get stressed, and all I’m capable of looking at is the problem that’s right in front of me – wherever I look, it’s all that I can see, and I’ll almost tear my own mind to shreds with stress until suddenly the blinkers fall away, and I’ll realise that it’s actually not quite as big a problem as I’d thought. It is nice to know that, just occasionally, I am capable of getting the dogs in my head to stop barking.

So, I’m back in Manchester – and I’m warming up for NaNoWriMo. I might even make it along to the Kick-Off meeting that’s happening in the centre of town tomorrow. I figure that it’s a good way/excuse/reason to meet people, and it’ll give me fewer excuses for putting off my next burst of writing. I’ve got plenty to do, especially in reference to drumming up some proofreading work – I no longer have any excuses for putting that off – but I’m also keen on writing the follow-up to The Hypernova Gambit. If only I could come up with a decent title…

After a frantic morning of packing and sorting, I’m ready for my next adventure. I’ll be setting off for eight days back in London, doing as much as I can at the London Film Festival – there’s also some other stuff I need to sort out, but hopefully I’ll be able to meet up with some people and do some socialising. I want this to be a practical trip, but I also want to actually have some fun at the same time. It’s been a little tough for the last couple of days, but I’m going to throw myself into this and see what happens.

A quick update – it’s looking very likely that I’m going to be doing NaNoWriMo this year. Once I’m back from the LFF, the chance to sit down for a while and just write like crazy might be exactly what I need – I’ll be working on the follow-up to The Hypernova Gambit, and it’ll be interesting to see exactly how many words I can put down on the page when I’m really pushing myself.

There’ll be more TV and Holmes-related posts soon (I spent most of the last 48 hours slumped in front of the TV with some Hagen-Daaz icecream, and the frankly bizarre combination of the Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes adaptations and S1 of The Shield…), but right now, I gotta run…

Tick tock tick tock…

Three weeks. 21 days. And I’m still alive.

I have tried, over the last few days, to dip my toe into a little of Manchester’s night life. Friday, I hung out in the FAB Cafe, a wonderfully groovy Sci-Fi theme bar (complete with Dalek and old Gerry Anderson TV21 covers framed on the walls) which was slightly let down by their decision to play decent music so quietly you could barely notice it was there over the sound of other people talking. Then, last night I snuck along to the Tiger Lounge for a ‘Psychotronic Film Night’ of Eraserhead and Wild At Heart. The place itself was great, an atmospheric sixties-style dive bar complete with weird wallpaper– the crowd was a little strange (as you’d expect from a David Lynch double bill), and I was slightly worried by the hairy leather-jacket wearing guy who seemed to be getting a little too excited and entertained by entirely the wrong moments in Wild At Heart. The films themselves… well, Eraserhead is still an endurance test (although a truly fascinating and skin-crawlingly perverse one), and I’d forgotten how ballistically insane Wild At Heart is – it’s the demented Fifties/Elvis vibe that makes the film completely otherworldly, and it’s got a realy sense of energy to it. It’s also refreshing to see a Lynch film that doesn’t put the narrative completely through the wringer, and which also features a young and energetic Nicolas Cage before winning the Oscar and appearing in action movies drained all the spirit out of his acting.

Today was a little difficult. I find it hard at times to cope with the fact that I am single again – that I’m in a situation where I am, essentially, alone, and am likely to be for quite some time. It’s never a mode of living I was particularly comfortable with, and I’ve never been especially good at the whole process of meeting people and acquiring new friends. Nevertheless, however tempted I may be to curl up in the corner and hide, I’ve got to keep myself going. I can’t let this beat me. I’m going to get through this, and I’m going to be stronger as a result.

I’ve got tomorrow – `and then, life gets really weird as I return to London for a limited nine-day engagement to do as much of the London Film Festival as I can handle. Hold onto your hats – it’s going to be a bumpy ride…

Sound the trumpets, declare a national holiday – the proofreading is done!

Well, not completely – but the bulk is out of the way, and I’ve only got a tiny amount of tidying up to do tomorrow morning before I can send the whole package. It has, as usual, been a little on the intense side. In certain ways, it’s been welcome, and in others, it’s been a bit of a drag, but it’s almost done and it nets me another healthy chunk of money which has got to be a good thing.

Mood-wise, I’ve been doing pretty well – there have been some bounces back into depression, and it doesn’t take much to set me off, but I’m still doing okay, and I’m slowly getting my head around the intricacies of life in Manchester. One of the things that definitely helps is that there’s a very large section of parkland that’s only five minutes walk from the house – you have to cross a busy dual carriageway to get there, but the park itself is big enough so you can briefly pretend that you’re not even in a city, and it’s also been allowed to become a little wild in places. It’s got an actual character, and there’s a duck pond, and paths, and playing areas, and it’s proving to be a very pleasent place to go for a walk. It’s not quite the same as the wooded road where I used to walk in Hampshire – but it’ll do for now.

Anna is off on a business trip to Hong Kong this Friday, so I’m going to be on my lonesome once again for a few days, and then next Wednesday things will get action-packed once again as I embark on a madcap eight-day trip back to London for as much of the London Film Festival as I can fit in. Right now, I’m definitely down for kid’s fantasy The Secret of Moonacre and the barmy-looking South Korean Sergio Leone homage The Good The Bad The Weird, and I’ll be seeing lots more besides, but I’m also going to make sure that I actually socialise, meet people, and have fun. I’ll also be staying in a Picadilly-based hostel with a 24-hour reception for four nights , so I might also be trying to take advantage of a little of the West End night life for the brief window that I’m there. It’ll be work, but it’ll also be play – something I’m rather in need of right now.

There’s plenty of stuff I need to sort out over the next few days – but I’m also feeling the need to start writing again. I really want to start having some fun – however long this section of my life may take, I’m in an interim, chrysalis phase right now, and writing is one of the only things that’s going to make me feel like I’m getting somewhere. I’m looking forward to sitting down with an idea and actually having fun with it. It may take me a long time to get to the point where people are actually going to pay me for the crazy stuff I’m thinking up, but I’m willing to put in the effort. I’ll get there in the end.

The end of my second week in Manchester – and things are looking better. It’s certainly hard to believe that things could look worse than they did last Saturday – which was officially one of my genuine low points – and things have been on something resembling an upward curve. Having some firm work to do has definitely helped – there’s something about the firm structure of proofreading, and knowing you’ve got a certain number of pages to get through per day, that makes time just whirl past. Not that I haven’t had my rough moments, of course, but they haven’t been quite as crippling as before, and I’ve been able to get through them more easily. This may not be a path that I thought I’d be on, but it’s the path I’ve ended up with, so I’m going to make the best of it. A strange sort of perceptual change has been coming over me over the last few days, and the situation I’m in doesn’t feel quite so horribly wrong anymore. I’m getting the impression that I can actually cope with this for the immediate future, and I’m able to think about what I’m going to do next without wanting to crumble. There are still some loose ends that need to be tied up, and I’ve also got the upcoming adventure of the London Film Festival to look forward to – it’ll be eight nights in London, and a chance to properly catch up with some people who I didn’t really get to see in the flurry of action before I left. Plenty to do, and the vague feeling that I can actually approach it all with something resembling positivity and hope. Stranger things have happenned…

It’s very hard to be strong at a time like this.

I’m five days into my new life, and I’m regularly veering from feeling positive, to fracturing into several hundred pieces. I’ve never been good at coping with life at the best of times, and right now there’s a lot to find completely overwhelming. Probably the strangest thing is trying to get used to city life again, and realising that while I think Manchester will be good as an interim place, I’m not certain I’m ever going to want to settle here. There’s a lovely park just a few hundred metres from my house, there are funky shops, there’s energy and life… but I miss the countryside. I miss the peace, and the friendliness. I’m not designed for city living. I’m finding adjusting to life as a single person difficult as well – I had to do my first major shop today (in ASDA of all places) and I found myself on the verge of a minor emotional breakdown. An ASDA in the middle of Manchester is not the right place for that kind of thing. I got through, and I’m pleased I got it done, but it was a close call.

The strangest thing that’s happenned tonight is that I’ve walked out of my new room several times, and been surprised at the layout of the house’s upper floor. It took me a minute to realise why, but it’s because I keep expecting it to be like 26 Dundalk Road, the shared house I lived in when I first met George. It’s an odd moment of displacement that I find difficult. I’m getting back to work tomorrow, mainly because I think work is the only thing that’s going to get me through this. I’m not good at being social, at meeting new people, at making friends. i just don’t have the wiring for it, and I’m not sure I’m up to doing it again. My life at the moment (and the way it’s been for the past eighteen months) seems to mainly consist of me being on my own, and maybe it’s time I got used to that. Maybe I need to use that as a reason and an excuse to throw myself into the fictional worlds that are lurking in my head, and start building them properly. I’m fed up of being envious of people who get to think up cool stuff for a living – maybe my book is going to sell, and maybe it’s not, but the last thing I should be doing right now is waiting. I need to buckle myself down, and get some serious work done because sometimes it’s the one thing I think I’m actually good at.

Sorry. This is probably turning into a bit of a rant. I ended up taking my wedding ring off – just a few minutes ago – I’d been putting it off all week, and I think it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I don’t know if writing this down is wise or sensible, but tapping words onto a keyboard is one of the only things I’m capable of right now. I know I’m going to get through this, and I know that in a year’s time, I’ll look back on this and hopefully be able to see my life finally getting on a true upward curve. The only thing that scares me is that I was thinking roughly the same thing this time last year. It’s been a very tough twelve months, and getting through these next few weeks is going to be hard. I’m going to make it, but there are points where it’s harder than I can bear.

I will make it. I will make it.

(I am having moments where I can smile, and joke, and have fun. To be honest, I’m very glad I’m staying with Anna – she’s out at work a lot, but it’s lovely when she’s around. Time alone isn’t always ideal at a point like this – but these are the cards I’ve been dealt. I can moan, I can wail, or I can get on with it and play.)

(Time to try and re-don my poker face….)

It’s done.

I’m now an official denizen of Manchester. The move went (aside from a certain amount of emotional anguish) fairly smoothly. George was really good, and really helpful – I was exhausted and in bits, and George was there being level-headed and helping me out at moments when I needed it. We may not have been able to make our marriage work, but she’s still someone who I want in my life, and I’m glad I was able to say farewell (not goodbye- I will be seeing her at the end of October, and I’m not slamming the door on the past) without collapsing into a thousand pieces. Plus, I was so busy for most of the morning that I didn’t have many points to actually think about things, which was probably a good thing.

The journey up was remarkably free of traffic, even if the weather gradually shifted from glorious sunshine to driving rain, and I had to stop myself from spotting how many placenames I could see that were listed on the track “It’s Grim Up North” by the Justified Ancients of Mu Mu. We arrived at 6.45pm, just after Anna was back from work. Much shifting of boxes later, and I was ensconced in Anna’s house – saying goodbye to George’s dad was difficult, simply because he’s an absolutely fantastic bloke and it was one of those ‘point of no return’ moments that tells you life is moving on. Then, he was off, and the next phase of my life was beginning.

I’m still in unpacking mode- there are some things I need to sort out, and I’m also trying to be gentle with myself. I was bordering on exhaustion yesterday, and it’s okay for me to give myself a couple of days where I don’t do much. The practicalities of internet access may be an issue for a little while – thanks to my non-wireless enabled Mac Mini, and my EeePC’s unwillingness to connect to a wireless router that’s password protected. Some software updates may be necessary, plus I’ve got addresses to update, and things to do, and a book to proofread fairly soon… but not yet. Today, I’m going to potter around, do a few things, and then maybe head into the city centre and have a little explore.

I’m in a new world. And I think I’m going to be okay.

Today is the day. The move is scheduled for this afternoon, and- as is usual – packing has been frenetic. I’m just about done. It still doesn’t feel real, though. It feels like I’m living a very odd TV Movie version of my life. I don’t know what’s going to happen from tomorrow. Here’s where I get to find out.

Speak to you next in Manchester…