under another sun

Up with the lark this morning. I started work at 7:20. Tom arrived and went to bed after his night shift. I tapped hard today, reaching 40 thousand words on the Nothing compares to you story , and have been reviewing and considering how to alter the marketing project I'd called A Galaxy of Light-bulbs for Kindle too. First thing to change will be its name I think. Spoke to Mum who was cheery, despite having to go off for a routine hospital visit. Calliope spending twenty minutes biffing my ink pen repeatedly onto the floor. Otherwise overcast and occasional light rain today. Most of it when I broke off for a couple of hour walk to oxygenate my brain up in the middle of the day, while listening to the audiobook of Carrie , by Stephen King. I see quite a link from Ray Bradbury to King, in the American flavour of the stories. More work, and then chatting briefly to Tom before he made off again in the evening, made a salad and relaxed with Lorraine when she got home. Watched the ...

Woke up feeling hung over. Who would have thought that drinking beers with a migrainey head was a bad idea? Feeling wan and migrainey most of the day. And missed out on everyone else going to the beach and cavorting in the sea in Hove. I spent much of the afternoon asleep and felt somewhat better for it. When Sam and Jade came back home with Lorraine, she cooked the amazing vegan noodles we'd had with Sian. They may have been even better this time. Then Sam and Jade went out to meet Beth again, and go to the Basketmakers to meet Carrie, who Lorraine's ex had been going out with when I first met Lorraine. She is a nice woman, and fond of Beth and Sam. Lorraine and I, by now feeling almost human again, had a quiet night in. And lovely it was too.

Gah. Have some kind of man cold which is leaving me utterly drained, with no energy even to listen to Sonia's opinions. This coincided with having printed out my entire book, the proofing is slow going, as some of the first few chapters are not consistent with the last. Not major problems, but will take a few days longer than expected to fix. Frustrated. The final scene of Carrie comes to mind, this draft refuses to be done with. However I just need a few sample chapters at this stage. Arranging to meet Robin next week to talk about a pamphlet of poetry. New info being sent by new clients on writing work to do with cow fertility. From the sublime to the ridiculous as usual. Had a lunchtime snack and watched a half-hour programme about Vincent Deighan, aka Frank Quitely the award winning comic artist. These BBC shows What do artists do all day?  are quite fascinating. I'd love to work with a comic artist one day. This combined with other completely new ideas tantalising m...

Hand out of the grave Like the end of film Carrie, working on the job that refused to be die today even when buried and the last rites had been read over it. I had been booked to work remotely, which does not mean staring out of the window and not answering when people speak to you, but instead at home. Wrote the first draft of an advert about tooth decay and Lorraine used an iron and the power went. Fortunately this was a one off, but the job did not finish till gone five, having started at eight am. Feeling very frustrated at not being able to get on with all the stuff I need to do, such as unpack boxes, organise my life etc. not to mention my dimly-remembered life as a writer. Cat politics still fascinating. Calliope rising to the top of the league now. In the evening off to Matt and Wayne's place. It had been sunny all day, and hot and sweaty in the roof of the Old Church Hall, and they had arranged a barbecue. Naturally it began raining heavily minutes before it was ...