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Showing posts from June, 2009
New and old stagers A hot night and a hotter day. Up at seven to get cracking on Skelton Yawngrave again. Toby sleeping off his jetlag upstairs. Worked for four hours or so and then hung out with Toby for a bit of tea drinking and chatting over lunch. Then he trundled down the Twitten and up to the smoke to see Mum and Mas. I spent the rest of the day working, apart from a dead to the world doze for an hour. Got an email from Jason at Guernsey museums who tells me that there was a Dr Who novelisation set on Guernsey. Amazing. In the evening walked off to BHASVIC to meet Lorraine to see Beth and Mark in a college drama presentation: a collection of monologues and excerpts from plays from Sophocles to Jean-Claude Van Itallie. Beth and Mark were by far the best boy and girl. Both outstanding. Some of the kids are merely walking about saying lines, whereas Beth and Mark and two or three others can genuinely act, and the gulf is enormous. Sheep and goats. And Lorraine quietly proud beside m
Taking Toby to pubs A roll of suitcase wheels and a knock on the door at 5:40am heralded the welcome appearance of Toby on my doorstep. After mumbled hellos, I gave him a glass of sparkling water with a squeeze of lemon, and two rounds of toast and he went to bed. And so did I. The Tobster climbed from bed several hours later and Lorraine and I revivified him with tea, and the cat had sat on him, and two of my Corydoras Julii (little leopard catfish) mated, dancing in the water vertically together in beautiful way, by way of welcome. Later we went for a late Sunday lunch at the Eagle. For what people need when they come to England is booze. This incidentally another place where Lorraine is also well known and given kisses and hugs on arrival from the friendly manager Caz. Strapped on the nosebag for a traditional roast beef lunch, and enjoyed a couple of decent pints of English bitter and generally caught up. Toby seems well, cheery and relaxed, which is good to see. Lorraine went home
No flukes Up early to work on Skelton Yawngrave. Grinding out the last lap out. Lorraine got up much later and cooked us breakfast. In the afternoon, a long walk over to the other side of Brighton to a dubious little fish shop to buy some some gill fluke treatment. The owner was sitting in his doorway, and the windows blackened (to prevent algae in the tanks I guess) and he seemed quite reluctant to actually let us enter. One of my angel fish may have brought this condition, common in our finny friends, into my aquarium. Lorraine and I ambled up through Kemptown and after the piscine deal was done, along to the seafront to walk back. Gorgeous day, and the beaches thronging. After ambling about for some time, the notion of a very cold lager became irresistible. We went to the Hop Poles to assuage this, rather decadently. Talking to the barmaid who had exotic tattoos. And as night follows day, the notion of a curry began to clarify and harden in our minds. We called Beth and Mark, and ha
Terror in the Twitten Friday, and have made decent progress on the book this week. The 4th draft will be finished in a few more working days now. Writerly emails to and from Richard and Randolph lately, which is nice. Randolph's play is also coming to Brighton, so I am going to see it here on its last day. He is feeling relieved as the lead actress is finally learning her lines with a few days to spare. Now that the novel is almost done, I need to earn a bit of cash. And almost miraculously my pal Alice suddenly wants me to write several newsletters about injections for my old agency. This I can do from home. I seem to be living a charmed life. Yesterday I was typing with my window open and heard what can only be described as Calliope screaming. She bolted in all puffed up and terrified, and proceeded to hide for the next two hours under the sofa, and would only come out with much coaxing. I have never seen her like that. There is something out there that terrified her. She was re
The politics of angels Bought the unspeakable Daily Mail this morning, to check a small press ad I'd written in it about Brittany. Some monkey had broken the headline overnight, however, by adding an unneccesary word. Only a small job, but as a writer it galls. Still feeling very sluggish and enervated but slogging steadily to the end of Skelton Yawngrave, and my mind buzzing with how to approach the Guernsey project. My brooding only broken by a crocodile of children walking past in the Twitten, and as I glanced out of my study window I saw Klaudia was one of them. Made me feel sentimental to see my Goddaughter walk past apparently so carefree, along with lots of other five-year-olds holding hands. Lorraine told me today that she has asked some teachers and children to read Skelton which is fab. She is a great boon. Popped up the road to Anna and Anton's house to see Christian and Jane, and meet their new baby Ava who has an endearingly imperious expression, and is the spit o
Mark's off A note this morning from Mark Hill who is off on a jaunt across Europe. He has started a project called " The Grey-haired Gap Year , In which your correspondent sets out in his mid-forties to do the backpacking trip he never quite managed in his twenties." Anyhoo Canadian Mark is off to explore the dark continent of Europe and hopefully get a book out of it too. I will link to his site from my blog. My day was fine, sorting out a few prosaic tasks and then getting down to Skelton Yawngrave again. Not quite recovered from mystery wussiness of the weekend but definitely improving. Brain still sluggish. Ate a surfeit of fish fingers as I had to defrost the fridge. Watched the first episode of the third series of The Wire . Never seen this show before, and I can see what all the fuss has been about. It is brilliantly done. I always seem to pick up on TV shows late. If this is what Baltimore is like, makes me feel even more retrospectively grateful for the angelic N
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A midsummer night's dream A foul night in the Twitten. The alley was full of crazy drunks between 2 and 4 in the morning, so I lay awake feeling galled. At last the noise abated and, as I was finally drifting to sleep, Calliope appeared in the bedroom with a live mouse. This she released and it sped under my bed, with my feline in hot pursuit. Lorraine carefully staying in bed, I danced about naked, until I found a yellow rubber glove in the bathroom and managed to seize the poor half dead thing. The mouse had a hot body, which made me feel sick. And at 4:30am I could think of nothing else to do other than hurl it from my window. It landed with a tiny thud. Now I have a mouse on my conscience. Didn't get out of bed until 1.00pm today, which is unheard of. However sleep has fixed the general wussiness I have been experiencing for the last couple of days. Tested the water of my aquarium using my water testing kit. Lorraine and I then walked back to her place, from where she drove
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iGoads Got up groggily in La Barbarie and packed, breakfasted and then went for a short walk taking a few last snaps. Wonderful fresh morning, and Guernsey looking its best. Pleasant cabbie back to the airport, then before long the familiar sadness of seeing Guernsey, Herm and Sark slipping away. Flew a little to the west of Alderney, with the long beaches of the French coast clearly visible. It had been lovely to be back in my spiritual home, despite having to work and feeling a bit under the weather. Text from Beth on arrival in Gatwick saying that Calliope and the fish were fed. Arriving home, I was pleased to discover that she and Mark had left my place in better shape than they found it. Calliope bursting with love and it was at least half an hour before she bit me reproachfully. Angel fish still looking happy in the tank. After some shopping, I settled down to work. Except then I realised that I'd left my only pair of glasses on the train. Back to the station and, to my delig
Tome raider Up early and enjoyed a full Guernsey breakfast in the Barbarie, while reading Appointment With Venus. Then some cyber faffing before I caught the bus into town. Went straight to Creaseys and Boots on the High Street to ask about leg camouflage creams for Mum. Some raised eyebrows, and people asking penetratingly what I would use them for. Abandoning this transvestite mission, I set about my day's work. After nosing in bookshops, my first step was to spend a couple of hours in the Priaulx Library where I met Amanda Bennett, the Chief Librarian. She was interested in the Anthology project, and took some time to show me an extensive collection of books, all of which have some tenuous connection to Guernsey. She told me a few things right away I didn't know, such as PG Wodehouse went to school here, and that Samuel Coleridge-Taylor the composer had performed on the island. And that Edmund Keane the nineteenth century Shakespearean was pelted with vegetables in St Pet
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Two views of Sark Up early this morning and managed intermittently to wirelessly connect my laptop to the hotel’s network. Then mooching about the Parish, putting flowers on my grandparent's grave, and walking some of my favourite paths. Had a splendid meeting with Catriona this afternoon, who helped me sort out the next steps for the Anthology, and also to understand what was needed and not provided in the meeting yesterday. Soon I felt decidedly back on track with the project, and Catriona has given me a tremendously useful list of contacts. My approach is to clarify the concept, and find out what content there is, and only then make assessments about format. This I’m discovering is an agency way of thinking, rather than an arts organisation way of thinking. They are more pragmatic and focused on the object they are supporting, and how much it will cost. I need to get the project rolling, and create some media interest on the island and beyond. First step is to build an website,
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Knitting a Ferrari Up early and off to Gatwick . Fairly trouble free journey. The Auringy two-engined prop lane bouncing slowly through great castles of cumulus clouds. Felt very happy to be back on the island, an immediate cheerful feeling. Auringy much better than Flybe . Went for a short walk to Icart point, pausing to eat a ham and mustard sandwich and slurp a cup of tea. The owner of the cafe an unusual gentleman, who once told me he had mercury poisoning. "Success," he said, sliding my ham sandwich over the counter towards me, "is knitting your own Ferrari". I mooched happily around the cliffs for a bit, which were bee-loud and bursting with flowers. Slightly cloudy, so that parts of the cliffs were suddenly brilliantly spotlit. Returned to the hotel and prepared to meet the Guernsey Arts Commission to the new performing arts centre. I was early, which gave me plenty of time to hang about drinking an execrable cup of tea from a vending machine. Met Catrion
Island bound Off to Guernsey in twenty minutes to present my Anthology idea to the Guernsey Arts Commissioners, and have a couple of days on the island. Updates to follow shortly (God willing as the sky is thundery). Bah, bring on the Gin and Tonic.
Who knows where the time goes Argh. The final line edit of Skelton Yawngrave will take several more weeks at this rate. The trouble is it can't be rushed. Am pleased with the results though. The pace is faster. Took myself to the gym just concentrating on cardio stuff today as my back is going through another bad phase. Still managed to work up quite a manly sweat. Returned to the gym again after ten minutes to retrieve phone and keys I left on a treadmill. Otherwise there was a smidge of business to do. I have been practicing talking for next Monday, as I want to be Brylcreem slick when I'm in Guernsey. Another drugs website may be on the horizon, which may pay some doubloons. Spoke to Bob who is coming to stay on Thursday, and Paul whose son is now reading splendidly even though he is still in nursery. Lorraine, who was yawning after a tough day, and got an email update from Kate on the farm she is starting at home. Otherwise-in the best possible way-a tumbleweed and crows d
Belated birthday celebrations, cat protests and fascists Calliope mental this morning I suspect made tetchy by being unable to get to the fish. Biting my feet without provocation as I got out of bed, and then springing about savaging Lorraine's socks for at least ten minutes. When I got downstairs the fish food had been removed from a shelf, bitten open and emptied into the killing field rug. Despite many cat nose prints on their glass, the four angels slightly less timid and looking pearlescent in the natural light. Did no work today, instead food shopped, bought Janet a belated birthday present, and helpfully offered you-don't-want-to-do-it-like-that suggestions to Lorraine who was having to do some weekend work. Also attended another meeting of Twitten denizens. These are quite cheery affairs, and my neighbours are a likeable lot. All gathering in a knot in the sun, and then drifting into Chris's house, which has a long room lined with chairs, which is becoming our civic
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Leopard angels Up at seven, and wrote a lot of my Guernsey presentation, which made me feel rather big and clever. Slept a good deal on the gold sofa this afternoon, having worked like a dog all week. Lorraine drove me to buy four fishes for my new aquarium. I spotted some leopard angels, which have a delicate lacy pattern. Very pretty they are too. Having introduced them to my new heavily planted tank, they hid out of sight, only making a few cat tormented forays into open water. But it felt very good to be setting up an aquarium again. I've kept fish off and on since I was ten or eleven and I have always felt that there is something almost spiritual about them. Angel fish move in such a stately restful way. Calliope, meanwhile, was infurated by them, snapping her teeth at them, and pawing the glass. Lorraine and I had a slugfest, she cooked and I did nothing and felt a good deal better for it. Below Calliope and an angel.
The dulcet tones of Microsoft Anna Downloaded a handy tool today which reads out text in the voice of Microsoft Anna. This is perfect as the robot voice can read out Skelton Yawngrave in a completely dead and uninflected way, which is a perfect editing tool. Sol Stein recommends having your manuscript read out by the worst reader you can find, so you actually hear the words for what they are. I am making better progress, but not as fast as I'd like. Working like a dog trying to get the thing finished. Voted in the European elections on the way to the gym. A vast sheet of options with the repellent BNP top of the list. Considered boycotting the whole thing. British politics an absolute shambles at the moment. Labour busy imploding all day, there is now open rebellion and Brown looks rightly doomed. Even the Guardian is calling for him to quit. A Tory government is looming. God help us. Otherwise received a box of aquatic plants which are now in my aquarium, and looking rather n
A place where everyone's the same Much better day's work today. Worked well. The teethgrindingly annoying passage was effortlessly reworked in an hour. Calliope alternating between sleeping on my desk, resting her head on my keyboard (and occasionally contributing random punctuation) and bouts of demented miaowing as she chases flies about the house that she has smuggled inside in her mouth. I had the window half open in my study and she flung herself at it after a fly and I had to catch her as she scrabbled mid-air like the Coyote in Road Runner. Once caught, the flies are taken to my rug downstairs, which is a kind of insect killing field. Socks often find themselves there too, stolen from my sock draw to receive a savaging. Anna texted me to say that Klaudia has chicken pox. Up to the smoke this afternoon to meet Lakshmi and Aimee in Baron's Court. Aimee says she may be moving back to Blighty next year, which is a good thing. We met in a pub theatre, where Aimee's un
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Head banging Received confirmation today of my meeting in Guernsey about the anthology. Now to get the presentation in shape. Very excited about all this. Otherwise, up to briefly babysit a poorly Klaudia this morning, while Anton took Oskar to nursery. Later to the gym where I had quite a good and sweaty workout. I feel lots fitter but am still fat. Persisting is the only thing I guess. A walk this evening down by the sea taking a few snaps. Stopped in the Cricketers and had a pint, and scribbled a mindmap and felt much better, having spent hours banging my head against a brick wall of two pages that after protracted hours of work were considerably worse than when I started. Some days you just have to admit defeat. Instead I watched the second season of The Inbetweeners DVDs which Anton lent me this morning. Love it. Below some seafront photos in twilight.