16 Days In

Back again compatriot. You know you can’t get enough of me. Just be forthright honest about it. I can’t get enough of you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’m missing my artwork, especially graphic design, but at least I’ve still got my writing. Is blogging really writing, or does it have to be fiction? When I was judging a competition with the Manchester Titan (or is it Manchester Tart?), Nicholas Royle, lecturer at Manchester University, he seemed to lean towards rewarding the fiction entries. I picked the winner in the end, and it was autobiographical. I was wrong, Nick, fiction is much better and should be duly rewarded in competitions. I think I fell in love with the winner’s honesty, though. He hadn’t even typed it up however, so he should never have won.  Maybe he didn’t have access to a computer. My ultimate preferred art is auto-fiction, and that’s what my books are.

Just trying this almost daily blog thing out still. It is basically waffle if you’re not commenting on a theme. I don’t have a theme today. I could talk about the game of pool, I suppose. I’ve always thunk that nothing can bother you when you’re busy playing pool. The way I play it, on my own, zipping around the table with every shot to myself, it keeps me relatively fit. I used to treat it like a workout and play in shorts to keep me cool. I’ve been playing this morning/afternoon. I had six frames or so before I came here to the library. In between I attended my local mental health drop in. They were talking about I’m A Celebrity…Get me Out Of Here. I don’t watch TV so I was slightly left out of the conversation. I do know that Fred the Chef is having a hard time though.

Would you be able to stomach the disgusting trials they do on that show? For me, you can’t beat Paul Burrelll screaming his head off just because he’s armpit deep in a fish tank full of ants or something. Now that was quality entertainment television. Golden television, if you ask me. A big posh coward shitting himself with a funny grimace/scream. Unbeatable. Is it still like that? Will that uppity butler-ing dimwit ever be beaten? I might be insulting the no guts weak-kneed panicky shitbag here on the blogspot, but rest assured I’ve got big love for the dude. I think he’s great and a blessing to British TV.

Clint from the drop-in is my fictitious literary agent. We joke about that. I call him my agent because he’s made a few suggestions for my book (which is complete, by the way, 100% typed up). I’m just lacking the front matter and the back matter. If I had my Photoshop Elements 6.0, I could knock up a few illustrations to throw in there, but without, and left to my doodling ability, I’m at a bit of a loss. Have you checked out James Patterson’s front matter yet? Wow. It’s simply awesome. Creative wordart, I’d call it. Or text design. His back matter is column upon column of his previous works, nearly all or completely all of them collaborated with somebody else. I’d sure like to get in with Patterson. James Patterson with Andrew Donegan, how does that sound? Pleasing to ya? I’d hang with him any day, yeah, you bet’cha. What’s he write again, boring cop thrillers? Only messing, James. Best front matter in the world. You see maps and everything in front matter these days. I’m trying to be creative with mine, but like I say, without a computer I’m fairly limited. I’ve still got all of my previous pamphlets however with decent matter and they’re around forever. I take matter quite seriously. I was putting adverts in for other books at one point.

16 Days in at the moment. Will I ever get to Rare again? Or will I crash and burn just before? I know that I’m loved by the biggest and best Most On Highest no matter what I do, God’s love is unconditional, so sod it, no pressure on myself. I think the content of this blog is evident of the fact how I’m doing. A few weeks ago I was in a bad place so I posted darkly about Chinese organ harvesting. Now I’m in a much better place so I’m blogging about a pansy with his rolled-up sleeve shirt in a tub of spiders or whatever the damn things were. See the difference? Merry Christmas to all. Christmas is here! x