under another sun

Got up early this morning, and did some writing. Am trying to pull a manuscript together for a competition. The last time I did this I was shortlisted. I live in hope I can go one step further.   Also spoke to Keith trying to read the runes on current work. Then the French team Keith and I have been working with got in touch. Despite our best efforts it seems one of our ideas got through to win. Heard from Betsy today too -- who has been living back in the states for several years now, and wanted me to work on a job with her despite the eight hour time difference. I declined. This time.   A bit of a Pooterish cast to the day, with lots of Cummings and Gowing.  Just after lunch Brian arrived with his chainsaw and cut some bits down for us. He's such a nice man -- and had been in church this morning as it was Ash Wednesday. Yvonne came with him, and I sat chatting to her. Her daughter Annabel is about to give birth, so everyone a bit excitable -- she may be induced tomorrow...

Cuts Glad to speak to Mum today as she was discharged from hosiptal, and pleased to be back home but understandably nervous the pain might return. I had a good morning working on my poetry. I have found a slightly different voice but do not trust it yet. Richard told me that he was writing again too in a new way. Publication has a purgative effect. Lunchtime spent watching the new Chancellor of the Exchequor deliver the Coalition Government's decision on where the axe should fall in British public spending, tax rises, loss of benefits etc. They raised the retirement age to 66 too. I can't help thinking of Osborne as Osborne the Odious. Depressing to see him and new Prime Minister Cameron, both of whom have inherited millions without lifting a finger, introducing swinging cuts on ordinary working folk. It was ever thus. New Labour leader Miliband at PMQs earlier depressingly out of his depth. I find much to loathe in the political class. A cool sunny day in Brighton today. I had...

Morlock moments Woken by Calliope at 5 this morning. Atrocious weasel falling off the window ledge behind the blind and scrabbling for what seemed ages on the edge of the radiator, like a feline Buster Keaton. Up, showered and off to London, then listening to my Girl who played with fire audiobook again. Bought a cup of tea on the train and it was execrable, necessitating an undignified pursuit of the tea man, to get a new one without rancid milk. Then into the tube like a Morlock. Once out of the tube, and walking through Magravine Cemetery (a familiar haunt) I talked to the printer and to Richard, and was overcome by a wave of cheeriness on the way to work. Working on concepts for an HIV pitch with a freelance art director called Andy, who is perfectly pleasant. For some reason we found ourselves in an arduous and unproductive slog through the day, with me developing quite a throbby headache making it even more difficult to concentrate. We are already we are behind schedule. Not hel...

Betsy's got it covered One look at Calliope's reproachful face made me go shopping for prawns this morning. Spoilt weasel. Otherwise a busy day. Sent Matt an idea for the music piece, did some copy for the Guernsey literary festival to be held next year. I've suggested they call the festival Inspired by Guernsey , which they seem to have gone for. Also speaking to Betsy and to Richard, from whom I recieved a bag of Rwandan coffee in a complex joke that's best not gone into here for reasons of human decency. Richard also puffing having been running again. He is already a slim well-proportioned gentleman, and it's a good thing I've been going to the gym as we don't want to look like the Laurel and Hardy of Guernsey literature. Spent the rest of the day tweaking the book's innards, and fiddling with the last bastard poem which will not quite sit right. Still I have a few days before it goes to print, so why worry? My brain not functioning well. Below the ...

The countdown begins Was phoned by Catriona asking me to do some more work for the Guernsey Arts Commission, which is rather good, promoting Guernsey's first ever Literary Festival. Chats too with Richard and Betsy. Brilliantly, Richard has played a blinder, and secured a splendid venue The Glasshouse bang on the front in St Peter Port for our book launch. The official book launch day is 1st July, but we hope to have sold a few by then. All good. Meanwhile Betsy beavering on the book cover, and me still tinkering with one poem. But the countdown has definitely begun. Off to the gym again, feeling Butch and Manly on the hulklegs machine. After a while Butch and Manly asked me to stop (arf). Am definitely feeling better about my corporeal being for being back in the gym. A quiet night, Lorraine out with her girls watching Sex in the City 2 at the Duke of York Theatre. Apparently tripe, but they had fun anyway. Afterwards Lorraine came back to my place, and we went to bed amid hideou...

Jersey Up early to finish off some work for the lovely French clients. Then long chats with Richard and Betsy about the book cover. A nice surprise as Sophie emailed to say she has already talked to some folks at BBC radio about the This concert shows, and is now following up. Crikey. Would be cool bananas to get the show on radio. Up the hill to babysit Klaudia and Oskar. They are adorable. Looked at a book about swinging monkeys with Oskar, and then read chapter 13 of a book by Enid Blyton called The Faraway Tree , while having Barney the green dinosaur lovingly squished on my head by Klaudia. Once read to and told to sleep, they kept getting up, and I had to be stern with them to make them stay in bed. Anton came back from London after a couple of days being schmoozed by his agency. We hung out chatting for a while, and he told me that they were going to Jersey for their summer holiday. Jersey!?! It is hard to type about this. I am full of turbulent emotions. Then home talking to...

Roll over Metivier Calliope, no respecter of late nights, sprang onto my pillow, and dragged me from sleep hideously early. Once up, I lurched about working on bits and pieces, making and labelling a map of Guernsey for the centre of the book, as well as tinkering with poems. Then made off to the gym, which livened me up somewhat. This recent gym bout has made my trousers seem a bit looser. Betsy has some great thoughts for the cover of A Guernsey Double . Much relieved by this, as I couldn't see the wood for the trees on it any more. Amused by Richard writing: "Really excited about the Double. We are the new kids on the block. Roll over Metivier, tell old Corbet the news!" referring to Guernsey poets of the 19th century. Another night blamelessly sipping mineral water and teas, and enjoying this picture of a marine blobfish, from Practical Fishkeeping.

And so on Humiliation dreams: people laughing at the badness of my writing. This blinking book is playing on my subconscious. Up early and working on some copy for Catriona about next year's literary festival in Guernsey. Fortunately she liked it a lot. Then I wrote a front cover design brief for Betsy, and went to the gym and sweated somewhat. In the afternoon chatted to Betsy for an hour or so about designs, and sent her poems and photos, and laughing about her new relationship with a fellow designer, and imagining the conversations they have about interesting ampersands. Made some time to look at my poems and spotted two or three howlers. Spotting howlers at such a late stage is uncomfortable to say the least. Nice chat with Toby tonight, and with Lorraine, and watched a bit of football. Otherwise all quiet, spoke to a couple of neighbours, and apart from nodding pleasantly at the three young dealers hanging about at the end of the Twitten, kept myself to myself.

River vultures Back up to Glamoursmith. Feeling oddly optimistic, despite the day being potentially a tricky one. But the work we are doing on neuropathic pain progressed quite well. I enjoyed talking to Sean who is a funny guy, and it turns out is working on a sitcom with his usual writing partner. Initial booking was for two weeks, but it seems like it is just one now, with a possible second week in a weeks' time. This works out well for me however, as it means I can get on with the Anthology. A short lunchtime mooch by the river. Even more cormorants today, gathering like river vultures. As I walked spoke to Lorraine and an uncharacteristically gloomy Betsy, who is working on an arduous and unrewarding job from home. Finished Goodbye to all that today. Well worth a read if you are interested in WW1 or writers. Due to computer still being in limbo till new software arrives next week, I am have been unable to download any more books, so instead I am listening to a podcast about a...

Beers and friends Up early this morning and writing, before Lorraine and I had a large brunch. I had just about got around to finally fixing my aquarium up, when I was called by First Matie. There was a posse heading Brightonward. Before long Lorraine and I were in the Battle of Trafalgar, a difficult 20 yard trek from my door, with First Matie, Matty and Craig. Some Twittering and iPlayering from the boys. Soon to be joined by Matty's sister Tash her nice new boyf Steve. Then Betsy texted and said she and her pal Paul were in town too. Soon there was quite a crowd of us in the back garden of the pub and a fair amount of ensemble chatting. After some time this group broke up, and Lorraine and I took the skippy Betsy and Paul on a lightning tour of Brighton before heading to the Cricketers pub to meet Craig and Matty again. From there off to our usual curry house for a decent bit of snap. It was good to see Craig, who I'd not seen for some time. His career has taken a good turn ...

Home sweet home Woke exceptionally early after a terrible nightmare where spontaneous welts and scratches appeared on my skin. A cat guilt dream. Once awake at First Matie's house, my mind was racing on bean jars (thanks to Romy) and poems about Guernsey. I decided to sit in bed and do some writing, which I did, only feeling a wave of tiredness a few minutes before I was supposed to get up. Marmite toast and tea with First Matie then we travelled to the agency from Gunnersbury station again. Felt fabulously cheery this morning, at the prospect of one more agency day before working from home. Worked alone in the morning, making the occasional helpful comment to Betsy and First Matie, and then worked with Keith all afternoon on concepts, many of which involved crows. Lunch with Matty and Kate and Betsy. Betsy insisting we go to a Moroccan restaurant, and the food was rather nice. First Matie and I sniggering slightly over a starter called Foul Mudammas , which I have subsequently dis...

The seedling's home Off to the smoke today for a couple more days working on MS. The agency I've been working for now has First Matie there, as well as Betsy and Matty Boy, so it is a bit of a home from home. I was partnered with Keith, the cheerful Welsh head of art, and we had quite a nice day working on fresh concepts. I broke off at lunchtime to go to Plum with Betsy, who is singing lots and is about to join a life drawing class at St Martins. Also bumped into Mike. In the evening off to Strand on the Green to stay with First Matie. Her and Graeme's flat is also home to about 100 pots of various germinating tomatoes, squashes, and other assorted vegetables on widow sills and in bathrooms and so on. First Matie delighting in the first of the pumpkins, which had reared its surprisingly large leafed head. Had a long overdue gossip with her over a plate of chili in the Bell and Crown, and then later we caught up with Matty who was in fine form, telling us about his trip to ...

Diane and the crane Curiously shattered after a flurry of well being last week. En route listened to Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo's movie podcast, and Kermode's unfavourable review of Watchmen . Then more Buddhism. In work talking to Betsy lots during the day including decidedly off-brief heart to heart about life the universe and everything. Also spoke to First Matie briefly who is in Tenerife.  Diane had called during the day to say that her study overlooks a crane, and that she had written a love poem to its driver. She decided to perform it to him on Red Nose Day. Apparently the building company has got into the whole thing and it has take off somewhat. She has been dared to wear purple stilettos while reciting the poem in the crane's cabin.   Feeling exhausted, I arrived home to a bouncing cat, and an early bed. 

Mind maps and a mouse Chernobyl Downloaded an abridged version of The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying and listened to it on the train. John Cleese reading it, as well as Sogyal Rinpoche the author, and others. I noticed John Cleese at the three day retreat I attended with Sophie, which was led by Sogyal Rinpoche himself. Listening to it is surprisingly cheering, and like a burst of sanity as you scrabble ratlike from the train platforms at Victoria down into the tunnels of the tube. Arriving at London I picked up a free Metro which had a false front and back page covered in stories about Watchmen . The movie is out shortly in the UK. I read the graphic novel last year while I was in Greece, and found Alan Moore's story intriguing. The advertising for the movie covering the Metro (usually only worth reading for the excellent translated Norwegian cartoon strip Nemi ) was very well done though, and true to the style of the original graphic novel. Interestingly Moore's name was...

A shower at last Another soul sapping journey up to London. It was cold last night, and this did something to a rail which resulted in chaos for thousands of commuters south of London. Arrived at work a mere three hours and fifteen minutes after I set off. It really is astonishing how vile Southern Railways has been lately. I am looking forward to stopping the commute again soon. Once at work however, I had a reasonable day. Betsy as usual making me laugh. She was teasing me about the state of the desk I am using, and she help up some A4 and, showing it to me, said 'this is more than one piece of paper' to teach me that paper can be tidied into a block. The agency staff went for a meeting towards the end of the day and I as a freebooting freelancer was able to melt away early, capering with delight all the way to the tube. And the low orange sun still in the sky as the train crossed the Thames. Fish and chips from Sing Li, and a quick laser session with the cat (it's like c...

Back to the Buddha I have booked a holiday to Guernsey, where I can spiritually and physically recharge - and will be zooming off in a couple of weeks. Mum will come with me for part of the holiday too. Her first break since finishing chemotherapy. Lorraine will also come for a few days later on. I'll also take my laptop and work on my Skelton Yawngrave story while I'm there too. Among other things I need to reboot exercise and meditation. Lorraine's son Sam will cat sit, which is handy. Although he may have his hands full. Calliope was in trying mode today: waking me up hideously early, scratching for half an hour at the door until let in again, falling into the bath, attacking my feet while I am half asleep. While I was out she festooned the stairs with lengths of shredded toilet roll from the bathroom, and complained bitterly about her gourmet food. At work Betsy taught me two new words today; fauxhawk, which is a haircut a bit like a Mohican (aka a Mohawk in the US). An...

A drop of sunshine Sunny Monday. After a poor night, was woken at five thirty by the cat writhing around my head like an atrocious weasel. Once up and about, I felt curiously relaxed. Perhaps it was because Betsy placed a huge smiley face on the wall in front of me today, and had invited people to add things to it. I added a kiss curl (which was "improved" by Betsy) and eyes. Also worked with Anna, a nice kiwi designer who has just won a freelancer of the year award. Surgical site infections again today in between conversations about cannibalism. At lunch I popping out to buy some hummus and cat food. I walked through the ghastly Frank Banfield Park. This, however, had some crocuses, which my eyes greedily sucked at as I hurried past the knots of schoolkids in headscarves tucking into fast food. All of us drawn out by the yellow face in the sky. A long and funny email from Trace today, recalling her recent adventures: "But to cut a potentially long story short, I then wo...

Life. Death. Hammersmith London again. Bumped into Reuben in Victoria and we had a chat walking through the station. Discussed the redundancies hitting creative agencies. Thankfully, his agency seems to be okay. Walking through the graveyard to the agency I delighted in a few crowds of little crocuses here and there. The gleeful beginnings of the year. Reaching Fulham Palace Road by the hospital I saw a team of dark funeral horses with black plumes. Surreal in the shabby street. The patient horses like death waiting in the wings. The circle of life in Hammersmith. Into another day of MS concepts and a bit of wounds thrown in for good measure. Went for a late lunch with Betsy and the CD and head of art, who are both likeable guys, to the OSP. This is an old agency haunt and so feels like yet another time warp. I've had nightmares where in the dream I am back at University and doing my course all over again, except this time I fail it. It's messing with my head being back working...

A bit of a drip Awake at 5 in First Matie's flat in Chiswick, and had a million ideas running through my head. Such as what would be in an anthology of literature about Guernsey, or exactly how much was my outstanding billing, or why exactly am I working in bloody Glamoursmith again. Did some sums in bed, and then felt rather awake. Up early and after saying farewell to First Matie sloped off to Gunnersbury station, which of course feels very familiar to me as I once lived about two hundred yards from where Katie now lives. Into work at 8am, and was the first to arrive. Worked on bits and pieces during the morning: on MS and psoriasis. Had a chatty lunch with Betsy in a cafe called Plum, which is nearby and unsmilingly staffed. A bit slow and brain dead in the afternoon. I had to make my excuses to leave early to get back to Brighton in time to let the plumber in. When he did not appear, I called him only to be told that the booking was for next Wednesday, which was not my underst...

Trains and tubes and interviews Up before the throats of sparrows could thaw, and got the early train into London. Another terrible journey meant I arrived no earlier at the office. I worked hard till 3, chipping in with lines and concepts. Betsy coming up with some lovely visual stuff. If I had my own agency I would hire her instantly. Then at 3pm, off to Merton Civic Centre. A ghastly tube ride there, at Waterloo I asked a member of staff why there were no Morden trains and he told me to keep waiting. As I began to grow late I discovered that you had to travel to the next stop and cross the platform before you could get the right train. Argh. Fortunately I was only five minutes late to interview Sarah Tanburn, Merton's Director of Environment and Regeneration in an empty fairtrade cafe across the road from the Civic Centre. Yusuf the photographer for On Track, who I'd not met before, taking shots as we talked. Sarah, and her colleague Bronwen were pleasant people, and Sarah w...