under another sun

Saturday, and surprisingly perky considering last night's shenanigans. Woke up to find my short story, The Dark Fish , had been uploaded by Matthew the editor, who had been hard at work at 1am. Forced Lorraine to read it in bed, and went around saying the word Horror but only employing the first 'o' vowel sound. Lorraine and I chatting lots this morning, and putting things in their right mental boxes. Lorraine needs to say thing out loud to manage them. I perfectly understand this. My own speciality is venting in a self loathing, depressive and angry way, which depresses anyone in earshot, but leaves me feeling cleansed and happy. In the afternoon we scooted into town for some shopping, then Lorraine and I popped into The Bottom's Rest for a pint of Harveys. Beth met us there from work and we went back to the flat. A cheery evening with Beth and John. We ordered a curry takeaway from around the corner, and John and I went to collect it. We bumped into a cheery Inn...

Theresa May presented her deal with the EU today to mass Tory resignations. Essentially Brexit is a national suicide attempt, and May is trying to make that suicide slightly less painful. Many rabid Brexiteers want it to be more deeply damaging. Meanwhile the populace, bitterly divided by the lies they were told,  doesn't know what the hell is happening or who to trust. The closer we get to Brexit the madness of the 'taking back control' lie further reveals itself. And breathe. For me personally a rather good day. I did some writing. I sent stuff off to Michel and Pat and Perky. I went to the gym. I returned and did some more work, and then I got a note accepting one of my short stories to appear on a Horror story site called Horla . This was a bit of a boost. The story is about an astrologer and is called, The Dark Fish.   I wrote it in 1986, which I went through three rounds of revisions with the editor of a magazine called Panurge, before he finally rejected it. I ...