State Benefits, Guilty Pleasures and Community Writing Workshops.

Thursday 1st November 2012

Was going to do another fiction month but I’m so behind on typesetting that it’s just going to make keeping up really impossible so I’ll just scribble it again till December. I haven’t taken medication consistently for about a year. I haven’t been to the pharmacy for a repeat prescription since August and I haven’t taken any medication since mid October. So now it’s November and I feel fine. Well, fine as I’ve ever felt. I might leave it till the end of the year then go and see the doc – then again, I might go pick up a prescription today and get right back in with the programme in case things turn ugly this winter.

Yesterday I read about the new housing benefit rules proposed for next year. I don’t claim housing benefit but the way things are going, government is cracking down on welfare to the point that if you’re not working you’re screwed. If you’re unemployed and have a spare room in your rented house then you’re over occupying and will be docked housing benefit for being greedy. A council house is a luxury, not a right, so it seems. A single person out of work shouldn’t have a spare bedroom, they should downsize to a bedsit? And it isn’t up to the housing association to help find it? That’s bullshit! Weed out the poor. Kill off the infirm. Let’s eradicate the working class altogether – is what the message reads like to me. How will this affect people with mental health issues? It’ll make them even more unwell; its extra stress and anxiety on vulnerable people already finding it difficult to cope with the rigours of modern living. It seems the way to reduce the population without resorting to war or genocide is to starve people to death and blame them for it though their own shortcomings. It’s clean, it doesn’t leave blood on the hands of the ruling elite. And the more draconian modern social policies become, the less likely people are to breed. That seems to be the thinking, seems to be the strategy. I reckon I might need a little medication in 2013.

Last night I watched a Youtube clip of old Hank talking about the one opportunity that changed his life forever. Saying YES to an offer to sing with his favourite band led to more offers through being in the public eye. Don’t say NO to an opportunity. This world wants to weed you out. You have to be strong and you have to be able to adapt. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist or even have a degree – look at all the university graduates unable to find jobs that match their education. You have to adapt and you have to be smart. You can’t expect the good life without a fight. Don’t give in to false desires. Don’t get sucked into the vortex of useless consumerism. Live clean and lean – that seems to be the key. Find out what works, what you can withstand. You need to be tenacious, you need to recognise opportunities, say yes to them and make good on them. Don’t let it all slip away.

   Its not even seven o’clock yet. Already I feel the need to be up and getting on with my workload. I think 2013 is only going to get busier. 6.35am.

Hey, hey, hey! Here we are month eleven, the dark nights upon us and a big reluctance to do anything but gorge on steamed puddings and custard, bacon sandwiches and pizza till next Spring. But lo and behold we have a Poetry Jam.. I’ve been in Waddy  for just under two hours and am sat in the computer suite, having just printed out a stash of NaPoWriMo poems from 2011. Might as well give them another airing. I only need a couple of pieces. I like to do as few as possible – my ego gets enough of a massaging at other events, no need to hog the floor at Poetry Jam. Lots of people have been saying what a good line-up it is this month – Bob Beagrie, Annie Moir and James Oates - so hopefully it’ll attract a few more people who wouldn’t usually venture out on a freezing cold Thursday night. It’s always a nice surprise to see new people turning up. It’s that time before the gig when I get all butterflies and somewhat agitated. Hope it goes well. I can hear the Waddy gate clanging. Either Fergus or an early bird punter. 6.36pm.

Later: yet another great Poetry Jam this evening. Big thanks to everyone who came out to jam and watch the stellar sets from James Oates, Annie Moir and Bob Beagrie. Another mix of styles and voices. Jenni, Grame Fletcher, Terry Dobson, Jane Brown did her Mr Fox story and got a brilliant response.. Everyone in the room thought she should definitely publish it. I fluffed a couple of intros but the night was pretty great. I love Poetry Jam. I love the informal nature. Just being able to stand up and read a piece off the page coz it chimes with something the previous poet read. Annie was on top form and really entertaining. James did a mint set as well. Bob Beagrie was superb. First couple of performance poems unaccompanied then a treat of a set with musical backing. Went down really well. I bought his cd.

All the cool poets we’ve had this year - just a shame we couldn’t pull a bigger crowd; but no matter it was a great night. I have a lovely one hour and forty five minutes journey home – unless, depending on the weather and my mood I might shell out on a taxi from Consett. Anyway, think there was something for everyone tonight. It was good to do ‘When’ from Easier Ways this evening.

The 43 was on time and it’s warm inside. I’ll do my book of joy and a work log and that’s me done.10.35pm.

Friday 2nd November 2012

It’s a good day to land a lucrative job. It’s a good day to buy BBQ Pringles and fruitcake and exercise books. It’s a good day to make a mushroom and bacon cheesy omelette. It’s a good day to listen to guilty pleasures such as HIM and Twisted Sister demos on Spotify. It’s a good day to stay indoors once the shopping is bought and just crank out notes on the computer.

It’s actually a fucking freezing cold day. Really enjoying the twisted Sister stuff. Loved this band since I was fifteen when I first saw them championed by Dizz Hicks the BMX Freestyle rider. Spotify is good for little nostalgia fests. Another guilty pleasure is the gothic rock group HIM. I love their treacly romantic dark lyrics and catchy riffs. But I’m loving the song 30 by Twisted Sister. I used to have their TS bones logo on my denim jacket nearly thirty years ago. Eclectic mix-up kid. Loved Adam Ant and Motorhead. Loved The Mission and Queen, Marillion and The Cure. Relieved to have done the informal meeting with Fiona from The Forge today. A shot in the arm, the DLI project is next year’s Shake The Dust. Jenni is really pleased to be doing the World War One stuff. Almost done for the day now. 10.35pm.

Saturday 3rd November 2012

…So anyway, 2012 is on the way out and we’re hitting that period when all hell is predicted to break loose…

Fell asleep on the bus over to Jenni’s. I wanted to read but I’m really tired today. It’s that time of the year when the body decides to shut down. Jenni slept in and I was late so we aren’t going to catch the first event at freethinking festival. Think I went to bed too late and it’s kind of screwed up my body clock. Yet another sore throat coming on and I wish I could have six months without having to be anywhere. Obviously this isn’t going to happen as there’s lots lined up. This morning I found some more pieces that would be good in my chapbook. 3.05pm.

We didn’t make any of the afternoon lectures. Meant to be going to a party after The Sage but now we’re not. Feeling pretty hammered today. Sunny afternoon but really fucking freezing. Would like to get my book sorted out soon. Haven’t done any work on it for ages. Talked with Jenni about books and guillotines. Have had a couple of attempts at Facebooking on Jen’s computer but it jams freezes and fucks up every time I try.

Saw some of Paul Auster’s Winter Journal. Really lethargic today. Hope I write something else after The Verb at Sage tonight. Feel like a day in bed would have been a better option. Outside the locals have money to burn. Fireworks from now till the end of Monday. In another hour we will be in the audience at The Sage for recording of The Verb. 6.23pm.

Sunday 4th November 2012

Really fucking cold last night. Me and Jenni went to the recording of BBC Radio 3’s The Verb at the Sage Hall 2 in Gateshead last. Ian MacMillan is a funny guy and warmed the audience with a little song for us all to sing at the beginning of the programme before recording starts. Can’t remember much of it now but it was something about us all being freethinkers listening to the Verb every Friday with our Aunts and Uncles and the writing being great and the talk superb. Poets Tony Harrison and Don Paterson were on. I tried to film bits of the show but was told to stop. We saw Amina there. She had been putting poetry post-it notes all over the place. Saw Simon Armitage on the stairs at the end when we were coming out. Went to Tesco afterwards for food supplies. I hate using those fucking self-service machines. Prefer to hand my cash to a real person. Get my change from a real person. We got invited over to Dan McCall’s house to watch films and pick up a Beckett box set next Saturday. Watched some stuff on Eric Sykes on TV for a bit. Had to keep my hat on indoors. Went to bed at eleven. Been awake since about eight o’clock on and off but was so cold I didn’t want to get up. Fucking freezing in Jen’s room. We are going to more freethinking events today. Gonna try to get into the recording of Simon Armitage’s radio play The Torchbearers this evening. All my work stuff is bunched together Monday to Wednesday. Thursday to Saturday I’m going fucking nowhere if I can help it. Cranking the heating up and selecting all the material for my chapbook. Need a title for it. That probably won’t come until I’ve done the rest. Head all mush. Some days it’s okay, some days it’s like squeezing glue from a crust-sealed tube. 10.08pm.

Monday 5th November 2012

Didn’t get home till nearly twenty five to one this morning so I’m still a bit tired. Need a shave and need to get my shit together for the MIND writing session this afternoon. I have a love-hate relationship with workshops. When it’s good it’s good but I never know how it’s going to be on the day. I much prefer to do a basic session for less money than try to be clever. Soon as they throw a huge fee onto something I feel as though I’m expected to perform miracles to earn the cash. Just want to get my stuff edited and out as a book next year. A lot of it is drivel and will be cut from the manuscript.

So many books from my twenties that I’d like to check out again. “Winesburg, Ohio” by Sherwood Anderson; “Swamp Foetus” by Poppy Z Brite, “Nohow On” by Samuel Beckett, “Hand to Mouth” by Paul Auster. I have loads of stuff to keep me busy for the next ten years. No exaggeration. Tonight I posted a pic of a 1997 full-length first draft 139-page typescript on Facebook. I’d like to complete this project.

I walked into the library tonight and saw loads of biographies, published diaries, true crime and poetry books. Don’t need to splash the cash for new reading matter.

I’ve been listening to Swans – The Great Annihilator from 1995. I saw the band play the Astoria that year. Me and Stephen Clark made the trek down to London. We got copies of Gira’s book The Consumer. Brand new copies now shift hands for up to £1,845 on Amazon. I’ve never read such a powerful book in my life. It has never left my house since the day it got here. I have Stephen Dobyns poems, I have Henri Michaux, I have And the Ass Saw the Angel by Nick Cave…

   Today has been really good. Thoroughly enjoyed the workshop at MIND this afternoon. We didn’t watch any film clips coz Wifi wasn’t working. The only downer was the late bus home. Ended up being a six hour trip to deliver a two-hour workshop. But hey, this happens frequently. I had a cheeseburger for tea. Uploaded pix and prepared prompts for a half-marathon with the Writing for All group tomorrow. I am logging my days but not really digging deep. Feel pretty shallow much of the time. But it doesn’t matter. Feel pretty good today. Gonna read a bit of Writing through the Darkness by Elizabeth Maynard Schaefer till lights out. Swans are louder than fireworks. 9.59pm.

Tuesday 6th November 2012

Didn’t get to bed till after midnight yet feel alright here at eight o’clock. My session is already planned. It’s a half marathon. Seven new prompts plus six used at the Lit and Phil in August. I wanted to travel light but protocol requires that I get comments on college forms. I’ll take lentil soup, a hot cross bun and a bottle of Apple Tango. I’m kind of living in a carefree vacuum a lot of the time. All I’ve got to think about is the next lesson plan. The rest is folly. The years just roll on ever faster now. Makes you wonder how long is left. 8.15am.

Session went well today. I wrote a few pieces that will see the light of day. Probably at the next JibbaJabba or Poetry Jam. I photocopied all the work of the Waddy people. Will be good to do something with it.

At lunchtime the conversation was shit employers. Ali and Joan were talking about office hierarchy. Pleased I don’t have to endure that sort of shit. Had enough of it in the warehouse. Hopefully there’ll be some good opportunities next year. Want to read some published diaries. The library have loads so I reserved Franz Kafka, Aleister Crowley, Nikki Sixx plus Simon Armitage’s “Walking Home”. My biggest 2013 achievement would be to not buy any more books. OK. 10.05pm.

Wednesday 7th November 2012

Bit of a lie in. But still caught the early bus to Waddy. Session went well. Good bunch of people, lively discussion and imaginative striking material. Provocative, colourful, humorous. Was going to stay back and do some typesetting but the computer suite is being used for a meeting. So I think I’ll go to Paperchase and get my 2013 journal. 1.28pm.

Later: Took ages to decide on page size for journal. Going for A5. page per day plus work-log, morning pages and regular unprinted journal so I can make entries as short or long as I like. Read an article in Kerrang! in WHSmiths about concert ticket prices. £375 to see the Rolling Stones at the O2 Arena. That’s just disgraceful. No band is worth that. Not Queen, not Zeppelin, not even a resurrected Hendrix playing at his prime. 3.25pm.

Later: Cumberland Arms. Ten people downstairs in the bar. Crisp packets rustling, conversation merry. Good stuff today was two newcomers to the writing group. Very fluid session enjoyed by all. A wander into Durham for a free read of the music papers. Double spread on Swans. I’ve only listened to The Seer album once but reading about upcoming tour I feel keen to see them next week. But with no train ticket booked well in advance, Glasgow would be an expensive night out. In five minutes the door opens for gig upstairs. Fernando is performing and Jenni Pascoe is supporting. OK. 7.27pm.

Thursday 8th November 2012

Didn’t go to bed till about quarter to two this morning. Read a bit of Jesse Ventura’s “I Ain’t Got Time to Bleed”. I really should be reading British politics but I’m interested in his journey from Navy Seal, pro wrestler and tv celebrity to Governor of Minnesota. He writes in a very clear way that’s easy to understand and doesn’t sugarcoat his opinions. Accepting government handouts is considered lame in America. I am in no position to whinge about party politics. coz I’ve been helped enormously since a mental breakdown in 1998. Without help, I’d be gone. I try to live a pretty basic life. A lot of the things I buy could be deemed unnecessary. I could get by without the book purchases, the nights out. The less you possess the less possesses you and all that jazz. My most valuable commodity is time. The less I have to think about earning money, the more time for me. One hundred and thirty quid a week should cover my pretty much everything. Three days in some shithole with no responsibilities, four days to read and write and enjoy the silence - that would be doable in a worst case scenario, but I’m sure most people would agree that running writing sessions for people with health issues is a better contribution than stacking shelves with crystal ornaments and ceramic bullshit in a warehouse. I tried the regular forty-hour work route and it put me in the psychiatric ward. Now, I get to inspire others who have had it a lot worse.

One in four people at some point in their life experiences mental illness. A quarter of the population off work with some sort of stress, anxiety or other mental health issue – what does that say about modern living? I’d do more community arts projects if I could get the work. 9.47am.