Semantics and snapshots

So, according to an unnamed Amazon seller, the listing option “Used: Like New” actually translates to “Tatty piece of crap but we can’t sell it under that description so we’ll lie. Trololol umad bro?” and so my copy of The Dark Tower IV: Wizard & Glass sticks out like some unloved, battered book on my otherwise impressively well-kept bookshelf!
Still, the tower is closer…
I suppose…

I also bagged Mario Puzo’s The Godfather as well as Henry Hill’s account as a wiseguy in Goodfellas and the follow-up Gangsters & Goodfellas… And Life On The Run
“Forget about it…”

I’m hoping to add Joe Pistone’s books to the list as well. You might know him better by his undercover alias Donnie Brasco – as played quite brilliantly by Johnny Depp in the film of the same name.

In other news I am recruiting the very talented Cynthia Wong to help create two images for my works in progress. One for my short story collection which only needs three pieces to be wrapped up and another for my aforementioned gangster tale. She’s a wonderful photographer and I’m really excited to see what she can come up with!

Also, I wouldn’t be a dog lover by any means if I didn’t show you this gorgeous little creature! He belongs to a friend of a friend and I happened across her blog and said something about wanting a black dog to call Sirius after, you know, the greatest Harry Potter character of all time, and what do you know she steals my idea but keeps her first choice, Tiberius, which is of course the middle name of the greatest man to ever go where no man has gone before!
 Images are linked if you wish to see more of that heart-breaking little face!

I’ve also been getting rather creative with my cheese on toast. Oh I do love some cheese on toast. But I do get bored of making the same thing over and again so I spiced things up a bit this time. Literally.
Ham, chicken, peppered salami, spring onion and jalapeños!
 Equals very very tasty!

In more pressing matters, my doctor wants to change my medication and has started me on a weening off my current one which is resulting in some crazy side-effects and symptoms but more on that another time.

For now, peace off!

Don’t Get Me Wrong

I mean, I absolutely love the fact that I’m writing again. After so many months of depression on top of Seasonal Affective Disorder in the dark, dreary months otherwise known as Winter and the seemingly endless despair it carried with it I have finally made some cracks in its apparently impenetrable façade and found the time, motivation and more importantly the inspiration to get back into the swing of writing. After all that, I cannot be more thankful for now being back at my pen and paper and writing things again. Don’t get me wrong, but god damn it does it leave my desk space (both of them) in utter disarray.


Sure, it looks kinda cool, like I’m so enveloped in my writing that I’m actually lost within it but I really need some way of putting things in order. Anyone out there with some helpful tips on where to put what and so on?

Last Monday I eventually achieved my goal of focusing on one idea for the time being. Having so many different stories in my head meant I kept flitting between the lot of them. Would I do my sci-fi saga? Or would my time be better suited to furthering that gangster tale? Or would my Orwellian/Huxley/Bradbury dystopia be a far better thing to accomplish? Better yet, could I somehow write a psychological mind-fuck and keep it together enough to have a real shock ending? All this and more just kept these ideas as just that – ideas – and no hard work was getting done on any of them! But now I have decided. Now I have just the one story I am set on completing before even humouring the thought of another. Thanks to Sinead for showing an interest in the one story I ran past her on Monday I now have my sights firmly on the gangster story of brotherly love and betrayal.

Enter Guy O’Driscoll and his younger brother Colm – heads of an Irish crime family. Everything is seemingly hunky-dory, as far as Guy is concerned, yet his younger brother feels a hell of a lot of animosity towards his sibling. Feeling sidetracked and left out of business he finally succumbs to his ego and stages a coup to seize control of the family for himself, knowing his brother will not put him in harm’s way since they are the last two members of the O’Driscoll bloodline and Guy loves Colm too much to lose another family member.
After taking care of Guy’s top enforcer, Derek “The Tailor” Tinney, a hitman who leaves an unusual ‘trademark’ on his victims’ corpses, Colm successfully splits the family into two armies – his separatists (including #2 Mark Curren) and Guy’s loyalists (including Mark’s very own blood, his son Timothy) – before embarking on his mission to rid himself of his “weak, lenient and incompetent” brother and his trophy girlfriend, Eva.
Meanwhile, a father and son must fight their own battle as well as the family’s.

I must admit, just seeing that synopsis is getting me more excited about getting dug in and writing this. Things may change, here and there (the fate of Eva, Guy and Colm, for example, have been altered at least three times already…) and I can only hazard a guess at how it might finally turn out, or how hard it might be to commit to the final outcome of some of the characters. Either way, it should be one heck of a ride.

I’m also waiting on Mario Puzo’s The Godfather and Henry Hill’s biography to arrive so I can get the real feel to writing a gangster tale.

Interested? Want to know more? Show your interest in the comment section!

Peace off!

Dindins 2 – The Return

So I’ve yet again been extending my culinary skills beyond the microwave and “20-minutes-in-the-oven” mentality. Here is another example of the results to match my mother’s day roast so many of you wished I’d made for you!

Pretty mean-lookin’ piri-piri chicken with roasted vegetables, wouldn’t you agree?

In other news, I’m slowly trying to put my life [back] together. I don’t know what exactly has caused this sudden change but I feel a little more driven to do something about things. Maybe it’s the change in weather, the brighter days which are a god-send in contrast to the utterly despairing wintry nights I’ve had to bear through over the past few months. Whatever it is, I feel a little more alive. A little more motivated. Not so down and defeated. There were some days during winter I utterly saw no point to anything and felt like just giving in altogether. But a lack of action/conviction on my part and the introduction of spring has seen me through to today and here I am talking to you, my dear readers.

I’ve opened a savings account – something I should have really done years ago but at least it’s done now, right? – and at the moment I’ve got a standing order set up to pay 10% of whatever I get from the current unemployment benefits I receive into that account. Also, my dad’s place of work are looking to employ some 40 extra hands within the next month so we’re keeping fingers crossed on that front. It’ll be utterly soul-destroying machine work but 1) I doubt it’ll be more despairing than days on end dealing with depression and trying to find a point in life, and 2) it pays. Money. And gets me something to put on my CV. It won’t be what I want but at least it’s something.
Oh, and my bank have a funny way of covering their paying-in and cheque books…

Now if only they lived up to their name and Co-Operated and helped their internet customers smile, HO HO HO!

On a very positive note, I’ve been writing again. I kind of had to stop at one point because I’d missed doing it so much, missed the freedom of getting lost in my imagination, that it actually got me really down because I hadn’t done it in so long.
Again, no idea what has REALLY given me the drive to get back into the swing of pen’n'paper – probably the mix of the above weather changes etc, as well as the looming release of Sinead’s follow up to Rusty Halo, ‘Doors’ and her ever-inspiring passion for writing – but I’m glad it’s happened, all the same! I’ve been working on a small collection of pieces here and there that need some fine tuning before they meet my ever critical high standards and a couple more pieces need to be written up from scratch/notes before I might throw them together in a self-published book. Watch this space.

And while on the topic of good notes, I’ve had two very good pieces of news.
1) My mother beat cancer. I know I didn’t go into detail on this, and not many of you might have known but yes, it was caught early and cut out and now she just needs three weeks of radiotherapy before we can all return to a normal life.
2) My nan, who is suffering with dementia, had made spectacular steps in some sort of recovery. She’s been moved into a home and I don’t know whether it’s the medical attention paid to her or the social aspect of having to remember people’s names and faces in the common rooms etc (opposed to living by herself) but it was the first time in over a year that she looked me in the eye and didn’t have a blank expression on her face. She recognised me, but didn’t quite remember my name. But once we told her she was her old self again. She was more the grandmother I remember and I couldn’t be more thankful for it. She definitely seemed happier as well. Clearing out her flat on Monday really bought back some happy childhood memories.

That about brings us up to speed, readers! All-in-all, a pretty productive week all round.

I think I’m going to grab a big, black coffee, have a smoke and get some writing done before having dinner. While listening to Nine Inch Nails’ Ghosts album. If you haven’t heard this album, then you should, no two ways about it. It’s nothing like their older stuff. No painful, emo lyrics, it’s 100% instrumental and absolutely beautiful. Go listen, now!

Peace out!

The Life and Times of Roxy McDoglet (Vol I)

I’ve been meaning to do this for some time now, and the idea came to me after telling so many people – either friends or other dog owners I’ve run across – the rather touching story of my darling little canine and how she came to be the happy dog she is today. So without further ado, let us continue.

Nearly two years ago, after much debating with my mother – who was pretty terrified of dogs – we decided to go to a kennels where my sister’s friend Megan worked because they had taken in a lot of abandoned dogs and if they couldn’t find a home for them, they would have to be put down because the place was not designed to be a shelter or rescue centre. Sadface.
First things first, it was one of the most despairing places to be. So many dogs, so full of life and bark, all going ecstatic over a family coming because they know they stood a chance of being adopted.It kinda makes you want to be able to take them all home because you don’t want to disappoint even one of them.
After a good hour or so of looking around, two dogs really stood out to us. There was a quiet, bored-looking greyhound and Roxy; this bag of bones and black fur who sat silently in her cage, not barking or going mad, looking miserable and as though she’d given up on ever having a loving home again.
That was the one for us.
We took her for a short walk, and my sister and I decided we already loved her, whereas mother still wasn’t sure. Roxy could sense it and kept rubbing up against her and looking for fuss as if to say “I’m your friend! Please take me home!” and eventually won her over, so we filled in the paperwork, got her in the car and came home.
She was a nervous wreck all the way home, not sure what was happening or what to expect, poor little thing, and soon enough she was left alone with me when the ladies went out to do something.

Here she is, on her first day in her new home.

I’ll admit I didn’t have the foggiest idea of what to do with her. I had absolutely no clue what dogs like, so I gave her a fuss and took her out for a walk. We came home and she seemed a little calmer though was no doubt still nervous and distressed – as her butt showed us, full in colour and odour.

It was really heartbreaking at first. She didn’t know how to play. You could throw a stick, a ball, or a piece of bone and she wouldn’t run after it. You could dangle a pull toy in front of her mouth and she didn’t know what it was. She didn’t know how to play or enjoy herself.
She had clearly bean mistreated and beaten by her son-of-a-cunt previous owner. If you moved too suddenly she would get up and bolt, if you tried to stroke the top of her head she would cower and shy away from you, if she was lying down in your way and you went to step over her she would expect you to stamp on her or kick her. It really makes me sick that some fucking asshole in the world got away with treating a dog like this. Who was two years old. Barely even out of her puppy years and already terrified of people. Especially males. If it had a dick between its legs she was scare of it. It took a long time for me to get into her good books.

Then came the “chewing phase”. Left alone for too long, or just plain bored, she would find something to tear to pieces with her teeth. Shoes, clothing, utensils, anything plastic, even my brother’s stuffed Alexander Meerkat, it all got devoured. I’m lucky in being a tidy person because it meant nothing of mine was ever left lying around within her reach, haha.
But not she’s grown out of it and just chews on things she knows she’s allowed to!

Then came a big surprise.
Once she was settled, she got territorial and very, VERY protective of her new family. If we met any other dogs while out on a walk she would go berserk at them and if we weren’t prepared we’d get dragged into the road or down the pavement because she has that bit of Staffy in her which gives her so much strength and pulling power. So it was decided we needed to start trying to socialise her. Enter Jake, my dad’s dog.

His previously owners are a gay couple so he’s the softest thing imaginable.
This was resounding success! And with a little caution and time we managed to start introducing her to some of the local dogs from the neighbourhood. Apart from the two Akitas because they are just vicious, bloodthirsty bastards that have attacked a number of the local dogs and one even bit a person. And the owners still just walk them around without a muzzle. Real responsible dog ownership there, ladies and gents. Take a lesson.

Then came the big change in Roxy’s life. Rufus! Our neighbours got themselves their own black Labrador – they probably got so used to Roxy visiting their garden they figured “Why not?!” – and these two have been partners in crime ever since.

They sure do make a right pair!

He’s just 18 months old and she’s nearly 4 and I don’t think either of them could live without the other now. They’re always finding new ways of breaking through the hedge between our gardens and playing with each other, and barking like mad when they’re not allowed to.

And while this has been going on over the past two years, we’ve also managed to coax this lovely dog into playing and learning some tricks for those delicious doggy treats!

You throw a stick? She’ll fetch it!

You got a treat? She’ll beg!

You throw a ball? She’ll fet… catch it and destroy it, but 10/10 for effort! She’ll give you a right game of tug-of-war and will race you should you try running. She’ll roll over for a fuss, come and wake you up in the morning with a lick on your face, scratch and whine at your bedroom door because she wants to be with you. Everything a normal dog should do.

She even enjoys Christmas.
Of course she still misbehaves from time to time, but that’s the wonder of dogs, and especially black Labs.

And boy, is she a poser. Just look at this portfolio!

And that, ladies and gentlemen, brings us to the current point in the life and times of Roxy McDoglet. All of that in her infancy and now a whole lifetime to look forward to, it must be tiring.

Stay tuned for more, in the meantime, we’ll be off adventuring in the country somewhere.

Cracks

Well, it’s been a while, that’s fo’ true! So what’s happenin’?
I did make my mother a smashing dinner for Mother’s Day. Check it.

Went down nicely with the bottle of Chilean Rosé I bought her too!
I’m just a great son.

Apart from that, I’ve been up to the same old stuff.
Though the sun is coming out now, which is nice. Getting some vitamin D in is always welcome.
I’ve even been taking the dog out a lot more. Which makes her a happy little pup. Yay.

This is just a stone’s throw from home.


A wild Roxy appears!

I used “Fetch!”

It’s super effective.

So what’s new?
I’m trying to spend less time on the Xbox. In fact I gave all my on-disc games to my mother to hide somewhere so I can focus on other, most probably more important things.

Oh, and I’ve been celebrity spotting. My friend and renowned author Sinead was seen on page 3 of the local paper. For her writing, that is. Did you read my review of her book? You should. Then buy it. It’s doubleplus good.

Now to go and make some dinner and dream of ways to spend the evening…

Peace off!

Do me a favour?

Oh, pretty please, my beloved readers?
Could you take some time out of your day for your favourite misanthropic, bitter, anti-socialite blogger and give him some feedback on his writing?
Read as much as you want, or as little. Hold it up high, tear it to shreds. Tell me what you like, what you hate, what is perfect, what is shit and needs changing.
It’ll only take a mere few minutes out of your day.
And it’ll give me some motivation and/or inspiration to continue editing this work and putting it towards publishing! It’ll pick my mood up, which given this past week needs it more than ever (long story short, my mother has cancer) and I need, so desperately need, some external input in some way to help me gather the strength to see her through this.
So go on, click here to go to my writing page, take a fancy to a title or genre and leave me something to ponder and take my mind off of things, even if it is just for five minutes.

Peace off.

I’d just like to say

that since I posted that entry from the dark depths of a bad, bad week I had 22 views and only 1 person bothered to say anything and see how I was holding up.

Thanks for that.

Sometimes I feel

such an inconsolable emptiness,
such an inescapable sadness,
such an inexplicable loneliness.

It consumes me,
distorts me,
damages me.

It’s killing me.

And no-one seems to notice.
No-one really, truly, honestly ask how I am.
It’s such a phoned-in question that people don’t actually care to hear an answer.
It’s an easy, sociable question for them to ask.
They don’t want to hear the truth.
They just can’t wait for their turn to speak.

I’m fighting
a losing battle.

I’ve lost myself.
Don’t even recognise myself when I look in the mirror.
This isn’t the face you used to see
Is what I remind myself with every day.
Those aren’t your eyes
I think every morning
They used to have a spark in them…
…life in them.
But not today.
Not today,
yesterday
or tomorrow.

I wish I could speak to you.
YOU, reading this right now.
I wish you could hear my words.
I wish I could tell you
how much of a beautiful human being you all are.
How I wish I could be like you.
How much I miss feeling even the slightest bit happy.
How cheated and betrayed I feel by whoever or whatever made this universe.

I think about the problems of others.
Third World.
And think how pathetic I am in comparison.
Keep reminding myself depression is a relative thing.
Keep getting told the same thing.
But I can’t help it.
Try to avoid the headlines.
Radio, TV and papers.
My faith in this world hangs by a thread.
Don’t need any motivation to lose all of it.

Don’t know what I’m doing.
Don’t know why I’m writing this.
Half-tempted to just delete it all,
put on the sarcastic funny-man face
pretend it’s all okay
for you.

This thing will claim me.
Might as well accept inevitability.

Don’t even know how many of you will bother reading.
Let alone say something.

So long.

Fight The Sky – a review

So, a few of you may have been subjected to me yelling “BUY BOOK, IT’S MY FRIEND’S AND SHE PROPER GOOD AT WRITIN’!”. If you haven’t taken up my eloquent suggestion, here’s a review to help sway your minds (and make Sinead love me for plugging her all over my blog – everyone has an ulterior motive, remember that )

Fully endorsed by this blog and it’s owner.

FIGHT THE SKY – Short Stories by Sinead Kent.
Available at all good online retailers, such as Amazon, WH Smith, Waterstone’s, LuLu and Play. Also, why not try the free sample on Sinead’s website?

Onwards!

First of all, if you’re looking for a happy-go-lucky read, this isn’t it. Unless you plan on just reading “A Carrot Seeking Freedom”, that is.

There is a great sense of sadness to nearly every tale in this collection, be it from the portrait artist who no longer paints lies and loses his custom, the burned out, nigh-on-suicidal private eye Rusty Halo, the absolutely heartbreaking loss in ‘Only Mine’ or Sparrow, the lonely caretaker of a circus. Each character comes alive with the emotional baggage they carry.

This isn’t to say the book is all doom and gloom though, there’s the somewhat darkly comic Eyebridge (at least I found the young policeman’s over-active imagination a tiny bit amusing), the success of Vortigern Jones and his associates in a less than reputable business and even Sam’s final escape in Never Seen The Sky go to show that this author can be a little more humane with her characters, allowing them small victories in the ever growing symphony of bad luck.

Content aside, the author also shows a well versed lexicon which she uses to weave these tales together, seamlessly; her description, full of striking detail, really pulls you in to believing each word you read.

A wonderfully talented young lady has shared her imagination with us and I for one am truly grateful of it! I look forward to reading more of Rusty’s adventures when her follow up, “Doors” is released upon us.

Keep an eye out for the name Sinead Kent, at the moment it sits between Aldous Huxley and Ken Kesey on my bookshelf and it looks quite comfortable right there and I am pretty certain it won’t be the only book Sinead Kent book there in due time.

So go forth, readers, and take a chance with my greatly talented friend, you’ll not regret it. Support her writing, and give her a little money for it too.

Peace off!

So, 2012

who is going to own who, this time ’round?

I’ve had a good long think about this post, which is something I don’t usually do; posts usually being a spur of the moment kind of thing. But since it’s a new year and everyone’s making false promises and hollow resolutions they know they’ll stick to for a couple of weeks, I thought I’d join the party.

This is by no means a list of things I’ll actually, positively, definitely achieve, more-so a list of actions I would ideally like to see occur in the future, in order to see a better me, a healthier and maybe even happier me. God knows trying to do some of these things will be hard enough for any person, let alone someone struck down with depression. But here goes.

The first one is always the big one.

Yup. We’ve been here before haven’t we?
I have most definitely quit smoking more times than the average smoker, I mean, some of them only quit once? Pssh, that’s nothing!
Now, not only would I like to see myself rid of this horrible addiction for the health benefits it’d bring but every time I have a smoke or buy some new ones a little voice in the back of my mind is reminding me of that day I calculated that by quitting I would save over £1000 a year. An extra grand in the pocket and being able to breathe, run for a bus and all other things is surely enough motivation*, right?

(*we’ll get back to that word later)

Healthy eating.
The thing about smoking is, I don’t feel like eating something healthy because there’s something about smoking that makes me much prefer junk food, it’s a nasty little cycle and in order to beat one I’m going to have to kick the shit out of the other too, at the same time. I have the necessary food at my disposal, but yet again require that little bastard, motivation, to get me past the seemingly insurmountable wall of No.

Get fit!
Again, this is inextricably linked to the above two that it makes building up the energy to get started all the more impossible. I have dumbbells, I have a dog I could walk more often. I just need clearer lungs and a healthier diet to get this moveable beast underway.

Another “big one”, you might say.
All of the above are a massive drain on my will to live. Sapping the very energy out of me to even drag myself out of bed of a morning, welcoming sleep every night with a great anxiety towards waking up the next day. No job = no routine = shapeless mess = smoking lots out of boredom = all of the above.
I’m not under-qualified, I’m not stupid, I’m not under-experienced. Why no picky motherfucker will give me a job is beyond me.

Also, maybe a little less

and a little more

which could lead to a little more

I think it was Stephen King who said “If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time, or the tools, to write.” And how correct he is!
Although having just received 5 new games for Christmas, this particular distribution of time and attention could prove tasking…

And on top of all that, the wonderful Bex suggested I start each day with a happy thought. An interesting idea, and not one I am too sure I can fulfil, but it’s worth a shot, none-the-less. It’s just that whenever I do think of something happy, I instantly remind myself of how awful I actually am so it all backfires. We’ll see how that one goes.

For now readers, I wish you a happy new year, and all the best.

Peace off!