Rise up this mornin’,
Smiled with the risin’ sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin’ sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Singin’: don’t worry ’bout a thing,
’cause every little thing gonna be all right.


OK – so it wasn’t three little birds. It was two. And by the time I got my camera, one of them had flown off. The little blue tits around here are extremely brave and they’ve taken to flying onto our open window frames. A couple of weeks back, I was in the little boy’s room (doing what big boys do) when I reached around for the toilet paper only to see a little blue tit sitting on the window frame staring right at me. Obviously, I didn’t have my camera but it was quite a sight. We both startled each other; he flew off and I left the toilet seat by a couple of inches. Anyway, yesterday, I managed to capture that shot.
In creative news, some recent events have caused me to “get to it”. I sat at the keyboard and began banging out the first 1,500 words of the adventures of Vince Pearl, the protagonist of my latest literary work. It took a little while to get the creative juices flowing again and I might have to re-nose the first chapter, but it is a start. I remember telling someone who asked that I was a writer and explaining that too many writers who say they are writers aren’t actually writing. One of the symptoms of writing is page dodging, where you’ll do anything other than engage with the keyboard. Lately, I have been one of these: a non-writer. Now by a sheer act of willpower, there’s to be no more page dodging for me. I remembered why I wanted to be a writer at 11 years old: because I wanted to tell stories and entertain people. The work I get paid for isn’t entertainment and so I will have to make my own way and fulfill that final ambition (my god, he has ambition).
The novel is called “Dead Rock Star” and is not what you would expect it to be if you take it on face value. Yes, it is about a rock star, yes he dies in second the chapter and yes, there is a murder-mystery element to it (which isn’t revealed until the very last chapter) but it is also meant to be fun and a flight of fantasy. I want it to be serious, daft, funny, sad and pretty fucked-up all at once. The whole thing is in my head and it is just about sitting down and getting it on paper. The great thing is that I am making up a fictional band history, discography, lyrics and everything to go with it, so I am planning to have some fun and get some nods to other rock stars in it. I’m probably barking up the wrong tree, but I am aiming this at young lads, because while we have plenty of “Harry Potter” stuff out there, a good old fashioned yarn with “rawk” in it doesn’t seem to be on the agenda.
I’m hoping I won’t run out of steam, but I told The Missus the entire story over a couple of pints of cider at the pub a few weeks back and she thought the story was “do-able”.

« »