Do you worry about the length? Does it concern you that you might not be able to satisfy with what you’ve got? Do you want to increase your size?
I’m having a problem with my size at the moment…the size of my novel. (Hey, I know it was a pathetic attempt at sub-Carry On style humour, but what can you do about it?) I just can’t break the 70,000 word barrier and I’m reading all sorts of things about how publishers like novels that are 80,000+ words in length. So understandably, I am feeling a little inadequate. You see my problem is that I like a short story. I like novels that I can pick up and read in an afternoon and so I tend to write stories that I’d want to read. Fast, punchy and to the point. However, now I am paranoid that my little novel won’t measure up. What’s a boy to do?
I’ve expanded as far as I can go. I’ve also added a few more chapters, but I am still scraping the underside of 70,000 words. God dammit. On the plus side, I’ve actually worked out that “Dead Rock Star” is a trilogy with this book just being an introduction of the main character. I’ve some strong ideas for book 2 and some sketchy ideas for the last part. Of course, maybe I should write the WHOLE THING and hand that it. But then I would be submitting something near 220,000 words and I don’t want to be doing that. Oh well, I’ll figure something out.
Got a load of my old guitars on eBay to pay for my recent bout of GAS (Gear Acquisition Syndrome). There’s a link to the right to access those. Hoping it will pay for this guitar and knock some of my credit card bill down. I’ve been incredibly stupid recently with my credit card. I have no head for money and I am always thinking I’m ahead of the game with my Barclaycard when, in fact, I am not. I am a fucking idiot and I need to be punished. If I don’t get a good return on these instruments then I’ll just to have to put some of my record collection up there. The boy needs to learn a lesson, so be it.
The lack of disposable income means that I have five days left to renew this place. Frankly, the decision has been made for me. I cannot afford it. Toying with the idea of just going “free” but like to have my own control. Of course, I am totally full of shit, so I’ll probably just renew at the 11th hour like I always fucking do. What a weak and snivelling sack of shit I am. Be strong. Give up. Admit you are beaten.
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The lesson of the day is not to attempt to do anything good. Last month, I discovered that an online acquaintance had committed suicide. The circumstances surrounding this wasn’t pleasant, but I felt the need to show my respects (and the respects of the music fansite I run) to this guy who had been an active member. So I ordered some flowers to be delivered via a Toronto-based florists. The internet order seemed to go OK. When I checked my credit card bill today, I have been charged twice for the floweres. OUCH! Email has been fired off. Hopefully I can claw the money back from the conning bastards.
The website involved is: http://www.afloristintoronto.com/site/index.cfm so until I’ve got a refund, you have been warned.
Remember folks, do nothing. It costs you nothing and no-one gets hurt.
What an eventful day!
I took delivery of my new guitar. OK – I’ve been a naughty boy and purchased one of those snazzy Godin xtSA numbers and I have to say it is magnificent. I will be flogging most of my other guitars on eBay tomorrow to pay for this beautiful instrument.
I got my new glasses today and I must admit that the difference they make is incredible. I can read the side of the loose leaf tea packet from a good stride away now. But seriously, the new glasses have eased my ever-twitchy left eye. I guess I must have been straining it. Anyway, here’s a pic of yours truly modelling his snazzy new shades…
The shades are cool, but you need a shave, you dirty ol’ man…
This afternoon we took my mother to the nearby RSPCA stray dog’s home to view a dog that was there. Even though she denied that she was going to ever get another dog, it was evident she was missing Stevie, the dog who was put to sleep recently. If you have never been to a dog’s home, it is a real assault on the senses. Firstly, there’s the smell…phew…worse than my dirty socks and underpants put together. Then there’s the noise: loads of desperate doggies barking to get your attention. And then there’s the emotional pull as you look at these poor abandoned animals that are giving their all to get your attention.
“Choose me!” they waggle and bark furiously, “Choose me! I’m good!”
The dog we saw was a Yorkshire Terrier. He was eight years old, had been left behind by his previous owner because they were moving to a place where no dogs were allowed (Catford, maybe?) and his name is Caplin, which is Turkish for handsome, apparently. When he was let out, he came right up to me immediately for a sniff and a stroke. People may think that I am an evil-hearted scoundrel, but at least the animals always see me for what I am. We gave him the once over. Good teeth, clean eyes, wet nose, clean rear end, good walker. He appeared perfect. It was obviously my mum was going to take him. She needs to be visited by the RSPCA worker to check that she is suitable for rehousing a dog (we had the check when Alex the Wonderdog was housed with us) and then we can go collect him. Maybe this Saturday if we are lucky. On the drive back, I told my mum that I would pay for the dog for her as an early Christmas present. At least, I don’t have to wrap him!
“Hey, I haven’t given you my permission to take my photo and use it in your blog, you black-hearted ne’er-do-well!”
In the post: a promo copy of The Blue Man Group album “The Complex” which cost me about £7, which is approximately £10 cheaper than the tight little blue bastards were asking for the CD at their shows.
I am a big Mike Oldfield fan, but I’ve often had issues with some of his live DVDs. HIs more recent performances available on the Tubular Bells II/III double-header to me seem very forced and almost robotic as if he was playing to a click-track and leave me feeling underwhelmed. So you can imagine my surprise when I loaded this new double DVD set into my player and sat back to enjoy the ride.
What you have here is a classic performance taken from 1979 at the Wembley Conference Centre and it is absolutely brilliant. The concert features a full rendition of the “Incantations” album and a funked up take on Tubular Bells on the second DVD – if you already have the album “Exposed” you are basically getting the visuals to go with this great album.
While I am not a great fan of “Incantations”, I am absolutely spellbound by the performance by Maddy Prior as she sings the “Hiawatha” section by Longfellow and this is repeated on this DVD. She does an absolutely amazing job with it and I dare anyone not to be left open-mouthed…WOW! There’s lots of energy on this disc from the singers and performers and a level of playfulness that you don’t often get from Mike Oldfield.
The really great thing about this disc is that you can switch angles and concentrate on performers as the concert goes on – this is what the DVD format was invented for. My only complaint is that the audio is presented in bog-standard stereo and while this is very clean and acceptable, it would have been nice if the authors of this disc had created a 5.1 Dolby mix and added some ambience to the rear speakers – but I am probably asking too much.
If you love “Incantations”, if you really dig Oldfield from this period of his career, then this is an absolute must-have. If you like his later, more mechanical performances, you might see this release as quaint and as a thing of its time. I however think this is musical magic and Oldfield should get back to this route of organic music making.
But the best part of the disc is at the beginning when the classical performers drafted in by Oldfield to augment his band complain of not having any music to play to and having to play by memory. They are actually in awe of the rock players who can memories this stuff!
Yesterday was interesting. I had a feeling that my eyesight might have been on the wain and it was interesting to hear about the eye problem that had been dogging me for a while (it seems I have a cyst on my left eye, which makes itself painfully known if I am under stress or in smoky environs, but it can be removed with surgery – oh goody!). The delightfully sounding “eye crystals” left me feeling a little depressed. We don’t have any history of glaucoma in my family (I asked my mother when I got home), so I was a bit alarmed when the optometrist told me about my condition. Of course, it is too early to say whether I will ever develop glaucoma, but it got me a little depressed when I was having lunch in the local pub. Though saying that, I am not sure if it was the news or the fact I’d handed over all that money that made me feel upset. I don’t know – the thought of slowly going blind isn’t something that makes me feel good all over, but the upside is that at least it is non-fatal, it’ll cut down the time I spent wasting on the Internet and I’ll get a guide dog. See, there’s an upside to everything!
Anyway, when choosing my glasses, I basically left it to the assistant to choose what I wanted. I didn’t have any idea what to choose as I had never worn glasses before and I wasn’t going to piss around spending ages choosing spectacles. In the end, there was a choice between “ageing geek” and “paedophile teacher” – the choice was simple, “ageing geek” won by a country mile. Oh how snazzy I’ll look walking Alex the Wonderdog in my new glasses. People will point and stare and say: “He’s an ageing geek”. Oh yes. Just got to wait for them to be made now.
Caught the teaser clip from the new Doctor Who episode to be shown at Christmas. It was OK. Not sure how long it will take me to warm to David Tennant as I thought Eccleston nailed that role and was easily my third favourite Doctor (after Baker and Davison). Yup – I’m an ageing geek.
In the post: something returned from one of my eBay sales. The little scrote said the item didn’t work, but it did when I sent it out as I had tested it. Every year I get one negative mark from some eBay wanker and I think that this is my eBay wanker for the year. Ho hum!
Had a dream in which Alex the Wonderdog appeared to be having puppies. Of course this is nonsense because he is a piss-licking, shit-rolling, boy dog…nay, a MAN’s dog. In the dream, somehow a Westie bitch had secreted herself inside Chez Lock and was pumping out little white puppies at the rate of knots, turning the house into something like 101 Dalmations (except they were Westies). Alex was none too pleased. Can’t remember what really happened, but after much hunting and pup-wrangling, I found the bitch living in our swimming pool (hey, told you it was a dream) giving birth to more puppies whilst being pleasured by a large brown dog, possibly a Staff or something else. Weirdness, pure weirdness. I am sure it means something to someone.
Today I went to the opticians for an eye-check. It was all the idea of The Missus. It had been three years since my last eye check so I reckoned it was a good time to find out just how badly my eyesight had failed. Despite impressing Mr Hui (the optometrist) with my recognition of the bottom line on the chart, my eyes required some glasses for when I am out walking the dog.
“Despite your long vision being impaired slightly” said Mr Hui, “Your close vision is excellent.”
Great.
“However, I noticed that there were crystals growing in your eyes,” he began.
“Crystals, eh?” thought me, “That sounds exotic.”
“Yes, these crystals are caused by calcium deposits,” he continued, “Nothing to worry about really.”
“That’s good,” thought I, “I like not worrying.”
“However,” he began again, “These crystals are a precursor to glaucoma.”
“Oh boy,” thinks me, “This is is bad.”
“But this is nothing to worry about,” he says, before pausing, then adds, “Mind you, for someone as young as you to develop crystals in your eyes is very unusual. You had better return in 12 months for another checkup.”
This did not make me feel very good at all. The worst of it was that the combined cost of my and The Missus new glasses (because we are both speccy gits from this day on) was £261. OUCH! That hurt. Handing over that kind of cash was very upsetting. I almost wanted to cry.
Oh well, I collect my new glasses in 5 days time. Who knows when the glaucoma will take hold and render me completely blind, eh? Mustn’t grumble…
Afterwards, we went to the pub and had a few drinks. As I said to The Missus, the only kind of blind I want to be is blind drunk. The pub had no baguettes (a good thing) and so they actually had to make us a sausage sandwich. Hurrah!
Have you ever read an email that wasn’t meant for your eyes? Or perhaps you’ve eavesdropped a conversation where your name is mentioned? Not very pleasant is it? Last night, an email plopped into my inbox that was not meant for me, but had been CC’d accidentally. I was mentioned and while the person writing it wasn’t being nasty about me, certain parts of the email depressed me. You realise that people “out there” spread bad vibes about you without giving the full story. While I don’t mind portraying myself as something I’m not, I have to draw the line at other people indulging in the pursuit. A man has to have his limits, no?
Oh well, you’ve got to put it behind you and ignore it. In the grand scheme of things, it means absolutely nothing.
In the post: the new Van der Graaf Generator book, which at first glance looks absolutely fucking superb. Excellent!