under another sun

Worked hard all day, finishing The Inheritor , my new horror story on which I was making 'a few final changes', which turned into three days of fiddling. It is set in Guernsey, and again was taking a half finished story I had, and then completely reworking it. Nice to be thinking about the island even if disturbing things are happening there in my story. I have sent it to an appropriately named American publisher called The Dark Magazine . All I know is that I am greatly enjoying writing these horrific things. Made a soup, which was weirdly brilliant from chicken stock, butternut squash, leeks, a few greens and a bit of onion, chilli, and ginger, plus tarragon, turmeric, and cumin and dancing. All this against a national crisis. A vote of no confidence in the Maybot, which she won. The zombie leader staggers on towards the biggest act of national self harm I have ever witnessed. Off in the evening to meet Anton who took me out for a bite to eat and a few beers. A nice nig...

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 ...

Working from just after seven on the final two chapters of the novel, which is now called The second kind of darkness . Some of my favourite ideas have to be given the Herod treatment, but after all these years, the end of the story is literally is in sight.  After four or five hours with blood on my hands, an omelette for lunch (made with turmeric as standard now). Then I slunk off in the gorgeous weather to sweat in the gym, where I had a good workout, doing the cross trainer but adding in a bit of rowing machine and one or two weights machines. Doing this gingerly as I am unfit. But things are slowly improving. Thence to the ideologically unsound Starbucks where I drank tea and worked till gone five. Walked home and spoke to Bob about various hypochondriac subjects, and then to Mum, who showed me the new rose arch in the front garden when I got home.  When Lorraine got home, we no-brainered down to the Preston Park Tavern for some cold beer and a bite to eat and...

Slept with the Juiliette windows open in our room, till we closed it first thing, but still heard an amazing dawn chorus at around four. Beginning to feel happier and more relaxed than I have for some time. Today I worked well on the novel. It has taken me some time to tune back into it, after a break, but I am there now. At lunchtime I took a walk in the sunshine for an hour. Listening to my new audiobook The Boy Behind the Curtain by Australian writer Tim Winton. A series of autobiographical episodes, read in a murmur by the author. I like his style a lot. I was in a good mood all day, except when I updated myself on the appalling fire at Grenfell Tower, near Latimer Road in West London. I've been past it on the tube a hundred times when I lived in Chiswick. Feeling incensed by how the Prime Minister Theresa May failed to talk to any of the local people affected by the tragedy on her visit. A failure as a leader and as a human. In stark contrast to Corbyn, who listened to peo...

Spent the morning trying to get my head around the Election results, and generally feeling heartened by them. Went to sleep not believing the polls taken of voters that there would be a hung parliament, and hearing the first to election results which showed a much smaller swing to labour. Awoke to find the nation reeling in surprise that the Jeremy Corbyn's campaign had been so successful, while Theresa May's robotic reputation of strong and stable, whiled doing U-Turns and hiding from the public had mysteriously not gone down so well.  What I am most pleased about is that there are clear signs that young people actually voted in their droves this time, many of them energised by Labour. This has to be good for democracy. Pleased also to see the MP I voted for, Caroline Lucas, who is the only Green MP in parliament greatly increase her majority. She is pound for pound one of the most effective MPs around. As I put on a rare Facebook post, we need bridge builders not balloon juic...

Much improved day today, was able to get my brain in gear, and did some good work and felt much happier. Also went for a long walk in the sun, partly through a nearby scrap of be-squirrelled woodland, and later into the park, where the pond had few plants in it, and lots of fish. They are goldfish but the black ones are more numerous. An example of natural selection perhaps. I pictured passing predatory birds gulping up the gold ones. Watched some of Theresa May's speech about Brexit. A decent effort I thought to put a positive gloss on it all, but as one of my old art directors Nev used to say with monotonous regularity while scowling at the catalogues we were forced to work on, you can't shine shit. At sundown, and noticeably colder, I took a stroll to complete my 10,000 paces for the day. This latter was just around sunset and the sky was a thing of beauty daubed with contrails. Home and chatted to Mum, they are off to Bart's tomorrow for a checkup, luckily the ambul...