under another sun

Another foggy damp day. Lorraine up and more independent now that her arm is no longer in the heavy cast. I had no urgent tasks and I had the luxury of doing some thinking, and catching up with a few blog posts, and fiddling about with some writing. An old pal Chris Amies got in touch via Instagram to say he had read and liked The Inheritor in Supernatural Tales. Out with the so called Beer Monsters this evening, in our usual Evening Star haunt. Nick was there when I arrived, he is a mine of information about beer and brewing. We were soon joined by Steve and Richard, then two musician pals of Steve's discussing an upcoming Sumerian Kyngs gig. Later we were joined by Claudius, and who had with him a young rapper called Harrison who goes by the name of Aitch  who I asked to find himself on Spotify for me as he was leaving. He was a nice guy and very talented. Later we were joined by Monty Oxymoron  currently keyboard player with The Damned. When I grow up I want to be a wiki...

Up to London again. Settled into the train along with everyone else, but the driver never arrived. A pleasantly busy day at work once I got there. A rainy day which meant I could deploy my new Berghaus and watch with satisfaction the raindrops beading on its surface, rather than simply soaking in as my last coat, lost on the Brighton train, did. After work off to meet Paul, currently aka Dr Spacetoad at St Pancras. We settled into a pub and had a couple of pints and an interesting catch up. David Ryan, who had run the anarchic Troubadour poetry nights I used to religiously attend in the late 80s and early 90s had died, and he was going to his funeral. He is currently living up north, having moved back to Blighty from Paris. He speaks with some feeling about Paris, and says he is disillusioned with it. Noticed that Paul does the weird elbow thing I do, which I've not noticed in others before. Interesting to hear some of Paul's adventures as a modern Troubadour, and we parted...

Spring Biffed straight into writing schemes today. Had a good think about the Guernsey Literary Festival in May, and what I can do about the Children's workshops I am doing. Decided that I need to write a short story based in Guernsey starring Skelton Yawngrave, which I can give to the kids. Will include in it La Biche , which is a ghostly nanny-goat which was supposed to live a couple of hundred yards down the road from my Grandparents. Began writing straight away, and spent two hours in the cafe plotting it in great detail. Also phoned Mum to get her to paint La Biche for the cover. After this goat-related business, and a lunchtime chat with Lorraine, and working in the cafe, I went for a walk by the seafront, feeling a swelling happiness and optimism. A beautiful day, and Spring has come at last. Hordes of people sitting on the pebble beach, young girls with blue legs in the breeze. People everywhere playing volleyball, strolling past strumming buskers and dozens of boys and yo...

Links and cycles Busy making decisions about the A Guernsey Double book today. Catriona has pointed me in the direction of the Arts Commission forms and it's time to get started with a costing. I also found that asking my LinkedIn connections about sourcing digital printers and had lots of helpful advice within an hour. A revelation. Snowflakes again, but they only made the streets greasy. Took myself out in the afternoon for coffee and a different perspective to my magic cafe. In the evening Paul called me as he wasn't gigging tonight, and he and I spent the evening catching up in the Batty and swapping some headlines from the 20 years that have passed since Paul and I used to perform regularly in the Troubadour Cafe in Earl's Court. Paul told me about the long years as a wandering Troubadour himself, and what living in Paris is like as an artist these days, saying that Paris has a soul but its people don't. He also talked me through his Dr Spacetoad incarnation. App...