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Showing posts from July, 2015

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Writing the impossible

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Of Kids

16.06.14 (Day 176) 14.42 A Loveliness is the collective noun for ladybirds. I knew this anyway but it was the subject of a question just now on The Round Britain Quiz on Radio 4 earlier. Collective nouns are most commonly associated with birds; the best-known of which being a gaggle (of geese) and a murder (of crows). With avian species, the nouns differ from those collected on the ground and in flight. Collective nouns also apply to fauna which is ground-dwelling by nature: a pride of lions being the best known example. My favourite and most endearing being giraffes: a tower. Is there a collective noun for kids? An annoyance? A coronary? I'm playing host to a few of the regulars and to avoid the annoyance or coronary, I've retired. To my room, which is out-of bounds to them all but they come in anyway: kids! That's the way it is; that's the way they are. 18.42 I didn't make my latest induction with CRI because our home was at risk and so was I, as I saw my one-time...

Of Nine

20.06.14 (Day 180) 08.42 Non: of nine. E.g. Nonagon: a nine-sided shape Nonillion: 9 to the power of 54 Persona non grata: me, to many Thrown out onto the road because I was ill and offered very little help. Intelligent, resourceful and having acquired many skills and much knowledge to stay alive out here, where many wouldn't; some of the many being those who think things should have been sorted out by now but who've never had to go against the system. Nine lives out here, most of which I've lived: Bottled Throttled Molten wax thrown in the face Robbed Raped (really) Beaten Attempted suicide Attempted suicide (Yes: twice) Not much left is there? Overnight stays in hospital beds and police cells: eight so far. Number of times that a ghost from my past has run back to me then left again, breaking my heart on each occasion: eight. But I fought back every time. Always with resolve; occasionally the old-fashioned way (with fists). These lives have hardened me and...

The Lunatics Have Taken Over

04.03.14 (07.42) I made it through the night, obviously. Himself didn't return but if he had, I was sharing the digs with a couple of the boys: an ex-Royal Marine and a Polish guy who's built like an out-building. The cage fighter and the Paratrooper were otherwise engaged. I'm the brains in our little family, or rather the one who prefers not to fight and spoil these pretty looks. Not that any of my brothers are anything but intelligent (at the very least, they're street-wise and have taught me some ropes and self-defence, some of which involves ropes) but I tend to be the facilitator and that's my contribution to the group. I know I'm safe in that company and we've all got each other's backs. We've made a group decision to clean up the family home, given that it's likely where we'll be for a while as without exception we're all dealing with hurdles, hoops and brick walls in our attempts to move on. We estimate a good day's work if w...

A whore and a slave to the pimp

THE WRITER'S LIFE I am an unholy trinity of pimp, whore and slave; to myself. People who owe me money have defaulted on their debts, but that's just an aside. It's like when a customer didn't pay an invoice when I ran a business. In fact, it was a good way to pay people to no longer exist. But that's another story. Lately I've had to adopt a much more business-like approach to writing, because of what it's become for me (my life) and because I need to keep the various aspects of it separated. When your job is your life and you've been a slave to both in the past, that's difficult. It's the way I live: This studio is not much more than a glorified office, albeit one with a leather sofa, a sound system and a TV; and a huge collection of CDs and DVDs. Like most offices, the toilet is off-suite and there's nowhere to sleep, so I bed down on the floor. It's a studio. I was keen to find some sort of work / life balance but that's difficult ...

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