CRUELLEST MONTH

Wednesday 1st April 2026

I started in on the new book today. The page margins are the same as Laughter To Split Glass. I've pulled about 40 pages of poems into a file and have a load more to gather up. Then I'll do a big printout and see if I can arrange them into a preliminary running order. I could only manage about four hours because my head started to hurt. I watched some ace bike trials videos this evening. I didn't even get the rider's name, but he was using an old Onza T-Rex bike, pretty much the same set-up as brother Mark had two decades ago. Then another video, in which he was using a thirty-year-old Giant mountain bike. I nipped out for supplies, then watched Queen Live at the Rainbow while doing physio. 10.35pm.


Thursday 2nd April 2026

I was in Consett early this morning for a bank transaction and to get food supplies. I did a bit of work on Ann Porro's pamphlet this afternoon and prepped for Poetry Jam. We had a full house tonight. All the guests were ace. James Whitman took a hilarious swipe at Reform UK Limited and read a few dog-stained haiku, plus four poems about teenagers and parents. Helen Alexandra read heartfelt and hard-hitting poems about domestic abuse and survival. Bob Beagrie treated us to a phenomenal forty-minute set, including a preview of his 'Hand of Glory: A Biography' book show. The open floor jam was packed with talent, some new and familiar faces. Two of the Waddy writers read, and Helen's daughter read a poem about a soldier. Hester, Rosemary, Ivy, Kevin, lots of people, including a newcomer from one of my library events. OK. 11.14pm.


Friday 3rd April 2026

I did a couple of this year's NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) prompts – but not today's, which was to write about an unconventional perception of a job or vocation. I'll try it in Morning Pages tomorrow. I wanted to get out on the bike, but the high wind this afternoon wasn't appealing. And the risk of rain wasn’t great either. I tried to read 'STAY FANATIC Vol. 3' by Henry Rollins but fell asleep. Chuffed to get the downstairs carpets looking a bit better. The rest of the house is a shithole. My priorities are probably all wrong. OK. 10.50pm.


Saturday 4th April 2026

Morning pages gave me two drafts from NaPoWriMo. I read a few pages of STAY FANATIC Vol. 3 by Henry Rollins, then did bicep physio with additional shoulder exercises. I wrote a new NaPoWriMo draft on the bus to Gateshead, picked up essential supplies, and went to Jen's place. Watched standard Saturday TV, then Whitechapel. It's very windy. Hope my place is okay. 11.13pm.


Sunday 5th April 2026

Up around eight. Wrote some fast-flowing prose in morning pages. Keyed in a recent NaPoWriMo poem and posted one on Facebook. Jenni and I spent a couple of hours with John and Hilary this afternoon. Then back to the attic for the snooker final – but it was too slow, not very engaging. We watched The Imitation Game. OK. 10.40pm.


Monday 6th April 2026

Morning pages are good for NaPoWriMo first drafts this year. Chuffed with my piece again today. Posted it straight to Facebook. I won't be posting every day because I want to keep some back for possible magazine submissions. A flash fiction site called Paragraph Planet popped up on Facebook today. I'd like to submit some prose fragments to that. Jenni and I went to Whitley Bay this afternoon. Got fish and chips then went to the Cooking Pot at Baba Yaga. Our first time at this spoken word night. Been wanting to get there for two years! Jenny Scott's event attracted a good variety of performers – poetry, prose and oral storytelling. Steve Lancaster read a great poem about his dislike of craft fairs and one about digital technology. Hannah, a visitor from London, did a great poem about avoiding school PE, and one about her disdain for flag shaggers. Jenni read some playful NaPoWriMo pieces. I did 'And What Do You Do For A Living?', 'Skip Rat', then 'Madge And Me And The Slippery Digits Disc Jockey'. Great night. We have both been kindly asked to headline. 0K. 11.11pm.


Tuesday 7th April 2026

So, the US Prezza is threatening to wipe out a whole civilisation tonight – and no one in American government has taken the dumb fucker out yet? Failed businessman and proven sexual abuser. Get in the fucking sea! Not fit to serve coffee, much less run a country... I had a canny NaPoWriMo-based workshop with Waddy Writers this afternoon. Only three people in, but we got through six prompts and started a seventh. I already had drafts for each day, but it was good to try again and tidy up some rough stuff. I came straight home after the workshop. I bought a steak pie in Moorside and had it with steamed veg and gravy. Tonight I've done very little. It will be interesting to see what happens tomorrow. And even if Donny doesn't do as he threatens - after all the noise around the world in opposition - he should still be taken out anyway. What total fuck-up! OK. 9.52pm.


Wednesday 8th April 2026

Warmest day of the year so far. And an opportunity to get out on the Sonder Frontier bike. I didn't clean as many sections as last time. On a stream crossing, my front wheel clipped a rock. I lost balance, resulting in a wet right foot for an hour or two. I'm limited now as to how much hopping and shunting I can do since the torn bicep but still managed to get up ledges and do the rooty hill climbs. Back home, I got my NaPoWriMo poems copied up into a notebook, most of them also typed. I wrote three poems from today's prompt. I hope I can keep going for the full month. It will give me a few more good ones as contenders for the next official poetry book. Tonight I watched Twisted Sister: Live at Wacken Metal Fest from 2004. Great stuff! Saw the band with Alice Cooper in 2005. OK. 11.46pm.


Thursday 9th April 2026

Bit of a lie-in and rusty response to the NaPoWriMo prompt; I don't have much interest in animals or plants but managed to write about a mouse. I went to Consett for groceries. Had a chicken dinner, did physio, then an early Sunderland bus to King Ink. Intended to read on the way, but fell asleep. Had a Ginsters steak bake with Greggs' spicy wedges. Then looked at DVDs and CDs in HMV in The Bridges till six o'clock. King Ink was mint tonight. I enjoyed the open mic stuff. Some really stood out for me: Pip MacDonald, David Hodgson, Steve May. There were gothic pieces, anti-war poems, stuff about hated vegetables. And of course, Aaron Wright with Erasmus Croc and Shmuck; a great headline set to launch their story collection BARK SIDE OF THE MOON. Aaron gave me a lift back to Chester-le-Street. I'm now on the 78-bus to Consett. OK. 10.49pm.


Friday 10th April 2026

Up quite late. I did today's NaPoWriMo prompt in rough in the Morning Pages. Read a bit of STAY FANATIC!!! Vol.3 by Henry Rollins. Then went out to cut the grass. It was quite an ordeal with the damaged left arm and the lawn mower that overheats and cuts out every twenty minutes or so. The grass was really long. During one of the rests, I got a private message from Ann Porro saying her son Luke has died. Such terribly sad news. Understandably, she has put her creativity on hold. It was difficult to finish the grass. Later, I tweaked some NaPoWriMo edits and made a steak and steamed veg dinner. This evening, I tried to read, but my body opted for sleep. Later, I watched Cobain - Montage of Heck and managed to stay awake all the way through. Bed soon. 10.29pm.


Saturday 11th April 2026

The NaPoWriMo prompt today was for Erasure (aka blackout) poetry. I just took lines and individual words from a bunch of songs by an 80s pop duo and tried to make something with them. I'll finish it tomorrow. Jenni is a bit under the weather today and wasn't up for Greg Chapman's Discovery of Witchcraft show at Heddon on the Wall Memorial Hall this afternoon. It was brilliant. Informative, funny, thought-provoking, and very well performed. I've eaten too much chocolate. 10.03pm.


Sunday 12th April 2026

Bit of a lie in. A bit warmer this morning. I wrote a new poem for NaPoWriMo and posted it to Facebook. Then went out to Gateshead for groceries. Lots of reduced-price bread and cold cuts. The radio was on in the attic quite a bit today, but I don't remember much of it. Tonight, the Olivier Awards were on TV. Then Krapp's Last Tape starring Harold Pinter, followed by Aidan Dunbar in a Beckett documentary. Great stuff. 10.57pm.


Monday 13th April 2026

Chilly start. Hard to get comfortable sitting on the attic floor, but I got all my pages done, including another NaPoWriMo new draft. Jenni and I watched some episodes of Inside No 9 and a bit of The League of Gentlemen. I've always found the latter quite grotesque. I walk down to Team Valley for the bus. Didn't get home until after five. I've done quite a bit of prep for the week and some number-crunching. Increased the physio weight load slightly for the first time in a while. I'm at Waddy tomorrow. 10.47pm.


Tuesday 14th April 2026

Chuffed to produce a NaPoWriMo poem without having to use a pen or key in the words – spoken directly into Messenger from my pillow, posted online by 8.30am. Felt pretty good about it all day. The session at Waddy went well. It's a freebie from me, so I'm basically running through all the NaPoWriMo prompts, seven per session for the month, to get the writers a pamphlet's worth of material each, in thirty days. Some really great drafts this afternoon. Hope I'm able to sustain momentum. I could have gone out tonight for supplies, but I wanted to stay in and have a lazy evening. I watched the Kurt Cobain documentary 'Soaked in Bleach' again. And a few more recent ones about his death. I'm not doing physio tonight. I want to turn in quite early to get a good start again tomorrow. OK. 10.17pm.


Wednesday 15th April 2026

NaPoWriMo prompt: a love poem, but not about a romantic relationship. I just riffed on generational views of popular music for a page and a half. Then out to Consett for bank transactions and supplies. I picked up a pair of black trainers in great condition for a fiver. Then bought a '200 best goth albums' magazine. It's okay but could have been better. I've heard nearly a quarter of the 200 albums. This afternoon I got a preliminary sequence of poems ready for The Smoke Room gig. I aim to make an expanded edition of a very limited-run pamphlet I did in 2015. It will contain one or two new pieces. Tonight I listened to the Nirvana album Nevermind whilst doing physio and other exercises. Rain prevented a bike ride. OK. 10.26pm.


Thursday 16th April 2026

Productive day. I got my sets pretty much sequenced for readings at The Smoke Room and was writing intros when the lineup was announced on Facebook. I'm chuffed to be doing a gig with Bedsit Manor, Your Casket or Mine, Phil Tyler and Nev Clay. I'm chuffed to have enough music-related poems to expand the Failed Rock Star pamphlet. I'll have a few runs through the sets just to be sure and will hopefully be able to reformat all the poems in a pamphlet for 9th May. This will function as a sampler in much the same way as the Prohibition pamphlet did in 2024. Tonight I listened to Lodger by David Bowie. I only recognised the single Boys Keep Swinging. There aren't enough hours in the day to go through the full back catalogues of musical legends. I'm off to bed early so I can be up sharp for Washington. OK. 10.14pm.


Friday 17th April 2026

Session at Washington went well. Five of the regulars and two newcomers. We warmed up with Absurd Words, then did a picture half-marathon. The darker images seemed to work best for most people. Big thanks to Alwyn Bathan for the lift to Gateshead. I went to Jen's place for a while, then got the X20 bus to Alnwick. A longer journey than the recommended X18, but I enjoyed the route through Amble in the early evening sunshine. I got to Alnwick Playhouse by 7.000pm. Toyah Willcox was brilliant. More stories than songs. Some of the covers were abbreviated versions, including School's Out and Enter Sandman. She answered my question about obsessive fans, the most recent being a septuagenarian who took loads of paper to sign at a Meet and Greet in Scarborough last night. I spoke briefly to technician John Greenacre afterwards. Got to Alnmouth train station okay, but my train is delayed by almost an hour. Jenni has kept me updated via mobile from the attic. I'm now due onboard at two minutes to midnight. Hey, Iron Maiden song. OK. 11:52pm.

 
NaPoWriMo 2026 Day Twenty-Six

WELL NOW, PHILIP

Rhyme time
A few complaints
One poem in particular
Not exactly Incy Wincy Spider
Anti-family lectures
Down the student union, perhaps

But not the sort of thing we
Encourage for toddlers
We want Wheels on the Bus
We want Jack and Jill
Not some cod psychology

The language from the outset
Mrs Thompson nearly had a coronary
We thought a proper poet would be a treat
But not this crude misery
And rumour has it
You're also a bit of a racist

As far as this library is concerned
Keep your mean-spirited
Verse away from decent folk
Go on, that's all
Cheque's in the post


Saturday 18th April 2026

Not much done today. I listened to some Toyah tracks. My ears are okay. I went to Gateshead for supplies. Then tried to attend a writing workshop, but the venue was deserted. Must have been cancelled. Banana on peshwari naan for tea. I wrote up my trip to Alnwick as an antiquated epic poem for National Poetry Writing Month. Checked out the new Toyah book, Meteorite, but it's very expensive. Washed a load of crockery whilst Jenni was out. Scrolled and slept. 0K. 10.17pm.


Sunday 19th April 2026

Big lie in. Jenni and I had a huge Sunday dinner delivered from Toby Carvery. A bit too expensive for my liking, but the meal was nice. We watched a horror film called Never Let Go starring Halle Berry. Then a bizarrely entertaining 'It Couldn't Happen Here' starring The Pet Shop Boys. I got the 47-bus via Chopwell back to Consett tonight and walked down to Moorside, narrowly avoiding a toilet accident. 0K. 11.50pm.


Monday 20th April 2026

Long day, mostly working downstairs at the drop-leaf table on copy-ups and edits of recent NaPoWriMo efforts. Some of the prompts and examples are stupidly long and really fucking annoying. But I've attempted them – albeit with a rather cavalier approach to the flower dictionary request and anything involving animals. This evening I made a mock-up pamphlet of my forthcoming sets for The Smoke Room, but I don't think the font is right. It was great for Letting The Minimalism Slip, but maybe the next one should look less like a seventies small press pamphlet. Maybe something glossy. Computer updates slowed me down, but I got the Waddy paperwork done. OK. 11.53pm.


Tuesday 21st April 2026

Great day. The Waddy session went well. Just another NaPoWriMo freebie workshop with a couple of the regular participants, but a good opportunity for those without internet access to have a crack at prompts from the last seven days. Afterwards, I tweaked the sampler pamphlet for the upcoming gigs. Had some lush bacon and mushroom sandwiches for tea at Waddy, watched a few Brian May clips online, then walked up to Redhills Hall with Jenni, Hilary and David (Rutherford). Bob Beagrie's Hand of Glory poetry show was brilliant. Musical backing, great performance. Will need to check the book to jog my memory. Strong open mic from a bunch of top North East talent. Fell asleep on the bus back to Moorside. OK. 11.46pm.


Wednesday 22nd April 2026

Lights blazing towards midnight. Cup of squash untouched. Ears fizzing. Computer whirring, whirring, whirring. Feet numb. Stuck to the spot. Eyes glued to the screen, fingers tapping keys, shifting shapes, moving words and images. It can only mean... I'm busy on a book cover. Really chuffed with tonight's design for FAILED ROCK STAR. I think I'm going to run with it. I reckon it could be good to go next week. 0K. 11.57pm.


Thursday 23rd April 2026

It's all trial and error. It's good to get the buzz from a white-heat first draft and want to push it to completion. But rarely do you complete it straight away. Still, it doesn't stop you some days thinking a piece of work is ready and okay to post online. Then five minutes later, you spot a glaring error. You fix it, hoping no one saw. Then repost. And an hour later, another line needs attention. The fear of being called incompetent makes you revise stuff. In the old days, these drafts would go in an envelope, sit in a slush pile for weeks. Then, understandably get rejected. More from that idiot in County Durham! But putting a piece on social media makes you conscientious. It's good to trial and error. No one wants to look incompetent. Letting others see works-in-progress often makes you work harder. Well, it does with me anyway. 11.55pm.


Friday 24th April 2026

Didn't get to Waddy till one o'clock. I sorted a copy of my little sampler pamphlet. It could do with a sharper font, but I should be able to fix it. I got a 21-bus to Newcastle and slept most of the way. Got a steak pie from Tesco and spicy wedges from Greggs for tea. Then the 10-bus to Hexham. Had a great time at Quillseekers. Cat Bell was brilliant. Two sets with a mix of hilarious and hard-hitting poems. And lots of great open floor readings, including Steve Wood. Aaron Wright. James Oates, David Rutherford, amongst others. It was great. I read four pieces: The Dark House, Macy Gray, Villanelle? and Kate Bush. Many thanks to Aaron Wright for the lift back to Gateshead. 11.27pm.


Saturday 25th April 2026 

Slow start. My device wouldn't let me look at today’s NaPoWriMo example poem, so I struggled. I hate being asked to write metaphors on demand. Jenni and I went to see The Ballad of Wallis Island at Tyneside Cinema with a Q&A from Tim Key. Great afternoon. Supplies in Tesco. Then BGT and The Madness of King George. Chicken, hot cross buns. Ordered an out-of-print Behemoth book that is often listed for over one hundred pounds, but mine was twenty plus postage from a Liverpool Oxfam shop. OK. 10.44pm.


Sunday 26th April 2026

NaPoWriMo 2026 Day Twenty-Six

ANOTHER STAB AT A PROSE POEM IN SEARCH OF A DEFINITION OF ITSELF
(With Apologies to Brian Patten for vaguely recalling his title)

Once again, the daily National Poetry Writing Month prompt seems to be chosen deliberately to match a poem I've recently written or read from my back catalogue, thus making it impossible to write another of equal calibre. The same water doesn't flow in the same stretch of river twice over. Any subsequent attempt on my part will be but a pale imitation of the first.

Ars Poetica? What is poetry? Why, to me poetry is whatever it wants to be. Of course this includes chopped-up prose, lacking rhythm, metaphor, simile, imagery. A three-line joke, an excuse to poke and pry, hang dirty linen out to the astonished eye, put a little bit of life under the microscope, but hopefully without paraphrasing a former self or god forbid anyone else...

The journal extract I performed last in the first round of open floor at Quillseekers on Friday night - about listening to poignant popular music on a quiet afternoon - comes close to why I try to capture fleeting thought and feeling. But I personally no longer give a fig if people deem my poetry merely prose. I've been chopping lines and sharing serendipity for nearly four decades. Poetry is just a few scrambled letters away from poverty. Ritual scribbles and personal introspective communion let loose on a mostly indifferent universe. Wax lyrical all you like about metre and scansion. Stack sentences, trim experiences and scatter at the feet of gatekeepers. Shout out loud on small stages, or wait ages for names to be printed down the slim spines of short-run paperbacks. From late teens to mid- thirties for me that was the real deal...

Quite a few of this month's NaPoWriMo prompts could be met with previous moments when my pen hit a good groove alone in my room, at a workshop, or on the upper deck of an X15 bus.

Ars Poetica? I don't care these days about how sacred the artform should be. About how it's a disgrace to share half-baked verse within an echo chamber. I write for myself and anyone else who wants to read it.

Sure, words have weight, carry meaning and responsibility. But what do I care if someone who only allows rarefied, agonised, carefully-considered-for-half-a-decade stanzas to see the light of day takes offence at tongue-in-cheek diaristic output. It's not compulsory to read everything. Or criticise it.

Writing saved my life. I'll do it wherever, whenever and however I like. And until fascists kill our modern methods of publication, I'll continue to spew my innards and document chosen moments to the best of my ability, however mediocre to others that may be.

And that, dear reader, is how it's always been. The talking pen provides the means. Diary, memory, anxiety. Poetry? I'm just a failed rock star wannabe living my own writing dream. Shoot me!


Monday 27th April 2026

Really productive day. I did a draft for the NaPoWriMo prompt and will have another look at it in the Waddy session tomorrow. Then I worked on my Failed Rock Star pamphlet for the upcoming gigs. Took a while to get the set together for the late show open mic but I think I'm there. I ditched an old chestnut in favour of a 2023 NaPoWriMo poem. I put the open mic set in between the two sets for The Smoke Room. I then did the prep for my Durham Carers workshop. It was mainly just replenishing the handouts and checking the files to see what I could I did in Bishop Auckland last time. This evening I reformatted the files for the pamphlet. I've had baked potato, tuna and curried beans. And oxtail soup. And Jacobs club mint biscuits. Still got physio to do. 0K. 11.45pm.


Tuesday 28th April 2026

Long, long day. Up super early to get more work done on the pamphlet, tweaking the page margins to compensate for the loss of print position on the Waddy machine. Thankfully, I've sussed how to do the spacing on fonts to get the left and right page poem titles and page numbers to print level on both sides of the paper. Waddy session was another bunch of NaPoWriMo stuff. I got more booklet covers printed and two test copies of pages on 120gsm paper. Tonight I tweaked the left and right margins to compensate for trimming. Hope to be able to print this weekend at Waddy. 0K. 11.10pm.


Wednesday 29th April 2026

A good workshop in Bishop Auckland this afternoon, overshadowed by printing hassles for the sampler pamphlet that I hope to have ready for the gigs at Station East on the 9th of May. Looks like the format and weight of stock I'd set my heart on might be in jeopardy because I can't get access to the computer I need to print the pages. Two computers in the same room, hooked up to the same printer using the same PDF from my USB stick, and they print it in different sizes. Peter the tech wizard is on holiday next week. If I can't get the job done on Saturday, I'm not going to have pamphlets in time for the gigs. I've not slept well or had decent food. It's not quite half nine. I need to be in bed as soon as possible. Knackered. 9.25pm.


Thursday 30th April 2026

The Behemoth book arrived this morning from Oxfam Books. Mint condition. I only like the band’s recent albums, but an opportunity to grab a copy of their out-of-print illustrated biography for twenty quid was just too good to let pass. I spoke to Waddy staff on the phone. If I can’t get the pamphlet sorted on Saturday, I will be given access to Peter’s computer to finish the job while he is on holiday. I’ve prepped my session for Washington and feel surprisingly chipper considering I’ve been going for thirteen-and-a-half hours with a couple more to go. Cheers for reading. OK. 8.37pm.

MARCH

Sunday 1st March 2026

Initially, I felt a bit anxious, but I’ve been doing okay without my mobile device. I won't see it again until I get home from Jen’s place tomorrow evening. We watched a good Victoria Wood documentary. Ate mixed veg with chicken nuggets. I'm very tired and should be in bed soon. OK. 11.33pm.

Monday 2nd March 2026

I haven't really missed not being online. I read a very short book about Bukowski. Most of it I knew from reading his work since I was nineteen years old. Got Greggs’ spicy wedges and a reduced to 72p Ginsters steak bake from Heron Foods. Went down to the post office at the other side of Gateshead with Jenni, then to an antique shop. They had a Toyah album, a Twisted Sister album, a big pile of ‘Vive le Rock’ magazines, and a pile of NMEs from the early eighties. I got one with Black Flag in it. Jenni bought three 12-inch storage boxes for fifteen quid. She cleaned them up pretty good. I had chicken curry, watched a couple of quiz shows, then headed home. Shaved, social media catch up. Pleased my workshop is already planned for tomorrow. 11.13pm.

Tuesday 3rd March 2026

Good workshop at Waddington Street Centre today. We did some adjective/noun/verb sentence stems. I read ‘In The Living Room of the Riled Poet’, which I wrote in 2010. We looked at ‘Write Anyplace’ by Natalie Goldberg. We talked about writer’s block. We used ‘How I Got Here’ as a simple five-minute prompt. Then I talked about morning pages. We read an essay called ‘Twelve Minutes’, then I set a stopwatch and told people to write what they liked. After readbacks, we wrote about what drives us. Tonight I went shopping. The buses were slow. Bed soon. 0K. 9.57pm.

Wednesday 4th March 2026

I've pretty much got a twenty-minute set for my headline gig at next Thursday’s King Ink in Sunderland. I've left a space for a new piece. I'm thinking of just taking a notebook and picking a work-in-progress on the day. I ran through the set a couple of times. I've done a bit of Poetry Jam publicity and spent about eight hours trawling through two years of Facebook posts for good photos to go in an album with poems for Mother's Day. I listened to Dog Man Star by Suede as I worked, then let Spotify do as it liked: Echo and the Bunnymen, Manic Street Preachers, House of Love, more Suede. Physio might have to wait until tomorrow. OK. 11.15pm.

Thursday 5th March 2026

Workmen were clattering and banging next door before eight. It didn't take them long to strip the roof. I edited a pile of photographs and hope to have a big album delivered from Amazon by tomorrow evening. I aim to be at Waddy on Saturday to do my printing. Poetry Jam was good. Lots of open floor readers. And great guests: Nicola Spain, Tony Gadd and Brogan Brannan. Waddy said it was okay not to return furniture to its regular layout after the gig, so I got home by eleven. It’s raining, and I've eaten too much cake. OK. 11.23pm.

Friday 6th March 2026

The workshop went well today. Ten people. Figurative language and more character sketches. The Furniture Game. We had a light-hearted beginning-middle-end mix-and-match story game to finish off. Had a chat with Alwyn Bathan afterwards about theatre and writing. Bought some food in Consett, then home to wait for the Amazon delivery. I unboxed the clothbound photo album this evening only to find dodgy streaks across the front and back. Amazon will issue a refund. Think I have another chest infection coming on. Bastard! 10.32pm.

Saturday 7th March 2026

Up at six. Did morning pages on the bus to Newcastle. Arrived at quarter to nine. Tried four shops before I found a decent photo album. Then got a bus to Durham to print the pics. Not sequenced yet, but it shouldn’t be too difficult. Feel a bit rough this evening. Been coughing a lot. Maybe I shouldn't go to the Rob Auton show tomorrow. Damn! 8.44pm.


Sunday 8th March 2026

Put a couple of pics in Mam's photo album this morning. Then found out she doesn't want any more books as presents. Felt rough until dinner time, then much better. Rob Auton’s CAN show was brilliant at The Stand in Newcastle this afternoon. Tony Gadd kindly gave me a lift home. Oxtail soup, then early to bed. OK. 9.45pm.

Monday 9th March 2026

Thirteen hours making up a run of fifty pages for a photo album to give to Mam for Mother's Day. Lots of good images and a bunch of cartoons Jenni made over a decade ago. Also, a few of Jenni's poems, a bunch of mine, some photos of siblings and other family members. I will deliver the album by hand later this week. I’m quite tired now. Just as well that tomorrow's session ideas aren’t difficult to put into practice. I want to do a few more rehearsals for my gig in Sunderland. I have monthly earnings to calculate. The rest of the time, I'll be chipping away at some manuscripts. OK. 11.55pm.


Tuesday 10th March 2026

Waddy session: Flash titles as prompts. Readbacks, then a look at the original flash fictions. We wrote six-sentence paragraphs with a tough constraint. No repeat words. Then experimented with different ways to start stories. This evening I rehearsed my set for King Ink and rewrote three new fragments just to have something new to read. I’m almost falling asleep at the page now. Time for bed. 11.03pm.


Wednesday 11th March 2026

Did a Facebook post for tomorrow's King Ink event, then printed out a dozen NaPoWriMo poems from a few different years that might be usable at some point. I got ready to visit Mam and Ernie. The one o'clock bus didn't show up – surprise, surprise! – so I didn't get to Durham till quarter to three. Then there wasn't a bus to Newton Aycliffe until half past three. I reached Woodham Village around half past four. It was good to have the day away and chat for a couple of hours. Ernie made a nice fry-up with bacon, eggs and sausage. I spoke briefly to Brother Mark on the phone. Then, when it was time to leave, Ernie insisted on giving me a lift home. Forty-five minutes. OK. 9.40pm.


Thursday 12th March 2026

Two hours and thirty-five minutes from my door to Park Lane Interchange, Sunderland. Pepperoni pizza and spicy fries for tea. In Greggs to get warm because the bus was freezing. Now drinking blackcurrant and soda in a pub opposite Pop Recs Ltd. Organiser Helen Wilko is here but hasn't seen me yet. The music playing is ELO and other standard 70s fare. The doctor this morning told me there's no way to measure the severity of my tinnitus. But I've seen several websites that have sound simulators designed to do just that. 5.55pm.

Later: a great night at Pop Recs Ltd for King Ink. Consistently good open floor. Very chuffed to do my 20-minute set and sell some books. Big thanks to Helen and James for inviting me. And people who braved horrid weather to be there. Big thanks to Aaron Wright for the ride to Chester-le-Street. Caught the 78 bus and now on my way to Consett. Big rest tomorrow. OK. 11.12pm.


Friday 13th March 2026

As anticipated, just too tired to do much today. Comedown from last night's gig. I put book stock away, then went food shopping. Chicken tikka masala and rice with naan and spicy wedges for tea. I've been asleep on the settee and have woken up with very cold legs. Think I'm done for the day. Still have lots to do. But no energy. So I'm going to turn in, I think. Tinnitus is very bad tonight. This morning I had an ace dream about a bunch of eccentric university students who all did really good side hustles and were ace at parkour, cake baking, stilt-walking, and generally looking like extras in an Emilie Autumn video or Alice in Wonderland. Great stuff. OK. 8.59pm.


Saturday 14th March 2026

Listened to a good edition of The Verb today: Alistair McGowan, Simon Armitage, and Joelle Taylor. Then voiced in some entries and made up a new morning pages notebook. Went to Newcastle for paper supplies, then to Jen's place. Very sleepy this evening. And cold. Ate lots of chicken and some oaty biscuits. OK. 10.25pm.


Sunday 15th March 2026

Big lie in then rambling morning pages. Jenni and I went out for supplies. Phone our mams, visited John and Hillary this afternoon. I’ve eaten a lot more chicken today. I ordered a pair of Phantom black ten-eyelet boots from EMP. Tonight we watched The Ballad of Wallis Island, a comedy starring Tim Key as a lottery-winner who pays his favourite musicians to play a private gig on a remote beach. Enjoyed it. OK. 11.30pm.


Monday 16th March 2026

Woke up with a tendon strain in my right leg. I was supposed to be going home this morning, but Jenni and I decided to go see Aaron Wright perform at Gateshead Library this afternoon. Then we went to a Helix Arts workshop. I’ve decided to stay another night. Jenni kindly took photos of my rarely worn Grinder boots and will try to sell the massive footwear on Vinted. I went through some of the writing exercises I'm setting at MAKING TRACKS in Newcastle on Thursday. The heating is on in the attic tonight. OK. 10.25pm.


THE REASON I DON’T WANT TO
SWITCH FROM TALKTALK TO BT

The man said it was easy-peasy
Just a few details and an engineer
Would come and rig me up to British Telecom
Said I'd save fortune without a landline
Super-fast high-fibre broadband

But I like the landline, I said
I like my bulky phone and large keypad
I don't want people ringing me on a mobile
I don't want to get a new router
I don't want to lose my email archive
Or pay a monstrous sum to retain it
I don't want to change my TalkTalk address
Or pay a monstrous sum to retain it
I like my landline, it's perfectly fine

GOD, he says, WHY DO PEOPLE HATE BT?

I don't hate British Telecom
I just hate change, even for the better
I'm a fuddy-duddy, set in my ways
Anxious enough without another headmash
Don't give me any more to worry about
I don't want your special offers
I don't want to use a mobile number
I don’t want to give it to anyone and everyone

Do you know how few calls I make?
I don't even know my own mobile number
And I don't want to get a new router
I'm not changing on your say-so
I want to stay with TalkTalk
Even though the broadband is crap

And with that, the sales rep left
Furious to be still working overtime
Trying to persuade this cantankerous sod
And getting absolutely nowhere


Tuesday 17th March 2026

Up and out very early this morning to get stuff for the workshop and dinner before catching the X21 bus from Gateshead to Durham. Spent two hours preparing for the Waddy session, then had lentil and bacon soup. I road-tested the MAKING TRACKS session that I'll be doing on Thursday in Newcastle. And pleased I did. I'm ditching Kennings and A2Z characters. I got through the exercises in the allotted forty-five minutes. Then repeated some NaPoWriMo prompts in the second hour. The bus home was packed. I had a steak dinner with veg. Got a headache so had to lie down for an hour. My right leg seems a lot better. And I've done a bit of physio on my arm. OK. 10.17pm.


Wednesday 18th March 2026

The computer was awfully slow for most of the evening, even after a big update from Microsoft, but I finally got Poetry Jam publicity out on Facebook. I've eaten a steak sandwich and a chicken sandwich. I’ve tweaked the MAKING TRACKS workshop a little and prepared material for Friday’s Arts Centre Washington session. Fingers crossed. 10.40pm.


Thursday 19th March 2026

Ten young participants for MAKING TRACKS today. Exercises fitted the allotted timeframe nicely. Some of the participants were a little reluctant, initially, but most put pen to paper. I read out words from some of the shy ones. The buses back from Newcastle to Moorside took ages. Almost two hours from Central Station to my house. Another steak and veg dinner, then songs by Twisted Sister. OK. 9.30pm.


Friday 20th March 2026

Today's workshop was good. I wasn't sure how it would go, but the journaling aspect seemed to work. Good feedback. Nicola Spain gave me a nice card saying thanks for asking her to read at Poetry Jam early this month. She says taking part helped her a lot. Had a good chat with Alwyn Bathan on the way back to Gateshead: dark farming literature and rowdy kids at the theatre. I had a great time at For Better or Verse. Sets from Tabitha McGowan and Cooper Robson were brilliant. Mint open floor people as well. I read ‘ScRaPs’ and ‘Family Anecdote’. Tesco shopping afterwards. OK. 11.52pm.


Saturday 21st March 2026

First trail ride down by the River Derwent on the Sonder Frontier adventure bike since I tore the bicep tendon in my left arm. I managed to tackle all the terrain I was riding there last year, but the left shoulder is aching this evening. I've slept quite a bit. Had another grilled beef steak and steamed veg dinner. Read some flash fiction and listen to eighties Queen. OK. 9.57pm.


Sunday 22nd March 2026

I'm at home in Moorside this weekend. Most of the day was spent going through NaPoWriMo files and recent notebooks in search of pieces to go in the next official full-length poetry collection. I now have over one hundred pieces to choose from. Yet another steak dinner and lots of peanuts. OK. 10.26pm.


Monday 23rd March 2026

Today was pretty good. I can't quite remember it all, but I seem to get a fair bit done. I enjoyed tweaking some of my poems for the next book. Chuffed to get a load of stuff sorted for the next couple of writing workshops. I enjoyed listening to an edition of The Verb from a couple of years ago featuring Jackie Kay, Amelia Coburn, Rowan McCabe, and oral storyteller Danyah Miller. The host, Ian McMillan, was on good form as usual, and the show was recorded live in Hebden Bridge. Amelia sang Wuthering Heights and her own Dublin Serenade. Tonight I watched the 'Until the Light Takes Us' black metal documentary. Then a twenty-minute Rollins Band live TV studio performance followed by the Classic Albums: Nirvana – Nevermind documentary. Great stuff. OK. 11.43pm.


Tuesday 24th March 2024

Today’s session at Waddy was good. Take Three Nouns. An episode of The Verb, another look at submissions for our next anthology, plus Guilty Pleasures to finish off. I put up Poetry Jam posters around the building. Back home for chicken dinner, Facebook reels, then physio and supper. OK. 10.20pm.


Wednesday 25th March 2026

My new Phantom boots arrived. Much better fitting than the Grinders from 2023 which Jenni sold on Vinted last week. Canny turnout at the Red Squirrel Press 20th Anniversary event at Newcastle Lit and Phil. Edwin Stockdale read from his new collection Winter Wolf. Pauline Plummer was launching Each Man is a Half-Open Door, a new collection of short stories. David Costello had strong poems about bereavement. Tom Kelly read from his new poetry and prose collection These Are My Bounds. Nice to see fellow Red Squirrel Press poets and of course Sheila Wakefield. Jenni stayed back long after the main event, but I caught the ten past ten X45 back to Consett. OK. 11.59pm.


Thursday 26th March 2026

Today, I will put comfy insoles into my brand-new Phantom boots because they are wide and high, unlike my work boots or Doc Martens from 2017. Today I will eat more dry-roasted peanuts and risk a weight increase that makes yesterday's black jeans redundant. Today I will use toilet paper to stem the flow of water from my nose, because although it's April next week, we aren't out of the woods yet.

Today I will have curried butternut squash soup and a tuna and red pepper sandwich for lunch. Today I will try to complete the current round of anthology updates on the big computer. Today I will probably fail to achieve much of what I set out to do. Today I will try to break down the contents of a book published seven years ago to help me sequence my next official poetry paperback. Today I will try to read more and scroll less.

My machine is on charge. I want to see Fury play at Trillians tonight, but I know my ears will not forgive me for the punishment.

It's a nice blue sky morning, but the temperature is low. I feel like I'm treading water at present. I'm almost at the point where I consider giving up on the morning pages, but I know that I won't.

I made a big list a few days ago of all the stuff I have to do to stay on track. It's getting harder and harder every year. You have to put the effort in.

I talked to Tom Kelly last night about my knackered left arm. How much physio is too much? When does healthy motion become obsession? Tom said in later life his parents sat in armchairs and found it difficult to move.

I am becoming more stationary. Dull. Uninspired. Ready to say: fuck it all.

Creativity sometimes feels like a treadwheel to me. Will my next triumph fulfil me? There is an obsession with logging the moment, creating content good or bad, to feel relevant, to feel active, to feel productive, to justify existence and forward motion.

It just seems like there's always a cycle of struggle to produce good material, anxiety over its development and publication, and slog to make it land with impact. Only to crave another success when the buzz wears off.

Of course, creativity should be play, but so much of it feels like slog. I'm never content for long. Trying to do good feels like wading through sludge. A lot of the time, I just want to say: No, stop! And be able to just potter on without the nagging anxiety of obligation. Of course, I could take a week off to do housework, wash clothes and go for walks - but would soon get the fear that some important commitment was falling by the wayside.

People often tell me that I do a lot and that my output is quite remarkable. But a lot of the time I feel like I'm just faking it and worrying about stuff. I feel the need to reside in a bubble without external influences on my autonomy. If I get involved with lots of people for too long, I feel like I'm starting to suffocate.

These pages every morning are a chore; a lack of bright ideas forces me to double down on my dark stultification and ruminate, expressing thoughts and feelings that otherwise might just come and go without too much trouble.

Putting words on paper makes you focus. Sometimes there is exaggeration or just repetition. Sometimes I get too meta. I waffle for a few sentences. I ramble and often think, For Fuck's Sake, not another blank page – was the quarter of a million words of shit last year not enough?

Today I will eat steak with fresh veg. Today I will get annoyed about not going to see the heavy rock band Fury play in Newcastle. Today I will try to read some of Tom Kelly's poems and maybe one of Pauline Plummer's short stories.

Last night I didn't feel like I had much to say at the 20th anniversary Red Squirrel Press event. There was a good turnout. And 20 years and over 300 books published by Sheila Wakefield is an amazing achievement – she has helped so many poets over the years.

People are always nice and ask me what I'm up to. But often I don’t feel very sociable. I tend to switch off a lot. I notice myself doing it, but sometimes lack the energy or maybe the social skills to be present with people.

I am tired. I didn't get home until midnight. I didn't turn out the bedside light until after one o'clock. I was awake before eight.

Today I will sit at the desktop computer. Today I will consider cleaning the gunk out of my bike bag on the handlebar of the old Specialized Rockhopper. Today I will wash some underwear.

Today I will eat oranges, bananas, tuna, shallots, and sultanas. Today I will pine for a full-length paperback of my best journal extracts. Today, today, today... Time is ticking. I'm getting irritable and irritating.

Jenni is going to a poetry Salon event in Tynemouth tonight. She's going to Washington tomorrow to look at the moon.

 
Could I go to see Fury tonight?
Could I go to Quillseekers in Hexham tomorrow?

I don't have to plan a workshop for next week.
But still feel up against it all. OK. 9.45am.

LATER: So today turned out okay. I did most of what I said I do. And I went to see Fury at Trillians tonight. They were blistering. Really good. I knew most of the songs. And they played a bunch of my favourites, including Breakdown and Road Warrior. Bass player Becky Baldwin was at the admission desk when I arrived. I gave her the thumbs up. Later, I bought a skeletal patch of her face. I got a really good nook to the left side of the stage where the sound wasn't too overpowering. A lot of the crowd were into it. I got the new album, Interceptor, and a DVD, and another patch. I'm now on the x45 bus approaching Ebchester. The bus voice was really loud and high-pitched right above my head. I had to move to another seat. Now the engine drone is in my left ear. Hopefully, I'll be okay tomorrow. 11.22pm.


Friday 27th March 2026

Major tinnitus spike in my right ear this morning. A headwind made this afternoon’s ninety minutes on the Rockhopper bike somewhat arduous. ‘Quillseekers’ spoken word night isn't on this week. So this evening, I tried to stir myself to work, but I've done nothing. I will go to bed early and hopefully get a better start tomorrow. The tinnitus is about equal in both ears at present, but louder than before the Fury gig. I ate steak sandwiches and oxtail soup. Lethargic. 8.45pm.


Saturday 28th March 2026

Got quite a bit of work done for Ann Porro's pamphlet. Sorted some anthology stuff as well. I listened to Fury and did some quick checks of various Darkthrone album track-listings. Walked to Consett and got supplies, then bused to Jen's place. Read some of Tom Kelly's new book. These Are My Bounds. Watched Britain's Got Talent. Played Jen some Queen cover versions by Marc Marcel. Ate cold hot cross buns and a corned beef and potato pasty. OK. 10.50pm.


Sunday 29th March 2026

Big write-up in morning pages of latest book shenanigans after being awake until three. Out to Gateshead for supplies. Read up on the whereabouts of musician Emilie Autumn, which was quite sad. Tonight, at Tyneside Cinema, Jenni and I saw ‘Orwell 2+2=5’. It uses extracts from his writings narrated by Damien Lewis, with footage, old and recent, showing the accuracy of his 1984 speculations. OK. 11.24pm.


Monday 30th March 2026

I had toast and cake and chatted with Jenni, then went to Newcastle to buy cardstock for Ann Porro’s pamphlet. Looked round the revamped HMV then fell asleep on the bus to Consett. The Poetry Jam pics are up on Facebook. I’ve listened to a couple of Darkthrone albums. Ate cold hot cross buns then a Red Leicester and tomato sandwich. OK. 10.57pm.


Tuesday 31st March 2026

Today’s workshop at Waddy was A2Z word banks from which we made prose trinkets. Then we did a Poetry Jam style readaround of anthology submissions in hopes of discovering connections and were pleasantly surprised with the results. I showed the group a few sonnets at the end and let them have a go at their own. Tonight another steak dinner. No music. No doom scrolling. NaPoWriMo starts tomorrow. Will I take up the challenge? I stuck with it a few years ago. But bailed after a few days in 2024. I aim to have this blog online by midnight. OK. 10.26pm.

FEBRUARY

Sunday 1st February 2026

Strange being in Consett on a Sunday. I pulled together ideas for the next Waddy session, had lentil and bacon soup, then attended Lorraine Weightman's “Good Company” book launch. She introduced herself and the novel very well. The cafe was packed. I read twenty or thirty pages this evening. If the temperature is okay tomorrow I might get out on the bike. 11.42pm.


Monday 2nd February 2026

Productive day. Sorted my set lists for the Meet the Author gigs coming up mid-month. I prepped a visual translation exercise for Waddington Street Centre and gathered materials for a visual display of recent writing in Carmen’s and Josie’s “Change the Story” sessions for Wednesday. I've read a little bit more of Lorraine's “Good Company”. I'm a bit tired because I stayed up till one this morning reading “The Glorious Heresies” by Lisa McInerney. This evening the Loop Experience 2 earplugs arrived. Fingers crossed they are good enough to prevent further tinnitus damage at the Suede concert next weekend. I've done physio, had my chicken dinner, and doom scrolled. Maybe I should have called Tuppenny Chinwag DOOM SCROLLER. Anyway, I'm almost done. OK. 10.37pm.


Tuesday 3rd February 2026

Missed my chance on Sunday to get a bike ride. I'm busy pretty much all this week. Really enjoyed the workshop today. Did thumbs down and thumbs up, gratitude lists, love and hate, reshaping free verse, and visual translation of poems from a foreign language. Three people in with me. The bus to Gateshead was too loud. Too snotty. And a bit chilly. I bought some black jeans from a charity shop for a mere 75p. A few white specs on the left leg, which I blotted out with a marker pen, but otherwise okay. Me and Jenni went to see 'Is This Thing On?' at Vue Cinema tonight. It’s a comedy loosely based on the early stand-up journey of John Bishop. Quite good, but I would have preferred less on the relationship and more on the comedy. Steak pie and nuts. Watched Richmond the Goth in IT Crowd. Very warm in the attic. OK. 11.33pm.


Wednesday 4th February 2026

Up quite early. Jenni kindly sorted more updates on my mobile device. I got a £7.50 ticket and two buses to Durham. I replenished handouts and sorted stuff for Carmen’s and Josie’s “Change the Story” workshop. I made a few changes to my poem. But found the art room just too noisy to concentrate in. I’m not very good at working around chatter. I had a tiresome bus journey home. Baked potato with tuna and BBQ beans for tea. And a sweet mince pie. I found more colour images tonight for Friday’s workshop. Then I doom scrolled for a while. I’m concerned about work being carried out on the roof of the adjoining property. I can’t really afford to get a new roof. I wonder how bad mine is. I’ve been here over three decades. I listened to a bit of Jarboe tonight. OK. 10.21pm.


Thursday 5th February 2026

Didn't get much done this morning. Hung around waiting for someone to pick up a consent form for building work taking place next door that might affect my property. I got the 1.15pm bus to Waddy. Rehearsed all the poems for the two Meet the Author gigs I'm doing later this month. I've ditched a couple of pieces that are no longer needed for continuity. I'm adding Abracadabra to set two. I'm chuffed with the way it's going. I need to pull another workshop together for next Tuesday but I'm okay. Great Poetry Jam. Top open floor people and great sets from Ross Punton, Helen Wilko and Andy Willoughby. Andy asked five open floor poets to be backing vocalists on his final poem. Ross is getting more confident. Helen did well to overcome technical issues and read a poem about me. I'm still at Waddy. About to eat a Pot Noodle then run for the last bus. OK. 10.51pm.


Friday 6th February 2026

Hardly any sleep last night. Didn't get to bed till after twelve and woke again by half six. Quick pages then porridge. Out the house by twenty past eight. Roadworks in Stanley knocked me back by about fifteen minutes. So I was late getting to Chester-le-Street. Then I needed the toilet and had to buy something for lunch, so I missed a connection to Washington. The workshop went really well. Nine people in and the translation exercise was a winner. I asked Nicola Spain if she'd like to take the opening guest slot at Poetry Jam next month. I’m delighted she said yes. Thanks to Alwyn Bathan for the lift to Metro Centre. Me and Jenni watched Michael McIntyre show and Inside No 9. Jen made some spice bags for tea/supper. I read some Rachel Hewitt essays online. OK. 10.32pm.


Saturday 7th February 2026

Seventy-minute walk in the pissing rain looking for the Barbican Centre in York. Suede were great. I stood by the back wall for a while then moved forward. Great mix of old and new songs. No ‘Wild Ones’ but they played 'It Starts and Ends with You'. Also excellent 'She Still Leads Me On'. Brett Anderson is really energetic. Great crowd. Back at the train station by eleven. 11.17pm.


Sunday 8th February 2026

Slight increase in buzzing in ears this morning, which should go back to how it was before in due course. Great to see so much footage from last night’s gig on Facebook today. I’ve been back in Moorside since two this afternoon and haven’t felt able to do anything productive. But a very busy week ahead, preparing stock for the library gigs on 16th and 17th. OK. 11.45pm.

Monday 9th February 2026

Started off feeling a bit knackered. Started off not wanting to do anything at all. But it turned out to be a canny productive day. I got some of my 2023 pamphlet stock replenished. I’ve printed out my set lists large for next week. Had enquiries for two workshops. Started Ann Porro’s pamphlet. It currently runs to 36 pages. My computer is being a pain. Outlook out of action and everything super slow with internet running. Spotify started working again tonight so I listened to three Suede albums back to back. I’m finding the tinnitus level has gone up despite no distorted hearing after the gig. If it stays as it is, I won’t be going to any more rock concerts. Computer being a pain, not letting me close pop ups. Hate it. 11.55pm.


Tuesday 10th February 2026

Slept in slightly after a fourteen-and-a-half-hour shift yesterday. Didn’t get to Waddy until midday. Not much to set up. Got some flyers printed but probably won’t use many. I left a copy of Unruly Eyebrow at Waddy for Josie, who does the graphics for Change the Story workshops with Carmen. My workshop went well this afternoon. The group did over forty pieces of writing in total. I managed ten new drafts. Got the X21 to Gateshead. Me and Jenni stayed in tonight. Greatly enjoyed the new McKenzie Crook series Small Prophets. The story is a bit far-fetched – about a guy who grows homunculi in his garden shed so he can ask them what happened to his girlfriend who went missing seven years ago – but the characters are brilliant. Then we watched a couple of episodes of the IT Crowd. I ate chicken sandwiches, pork pies and oranges. OK. 10.52pm.


Wednesday 11th February 2026

Shitty day. Bus didn’t turn up, so I didn’t get back to Consett before midday, which meant I had to reschedule a meeting and stay in Wetherspoons, avoiding the pissing rain till two o’clock. Then the fucking bus app lied. 3.10pm. didn’t materialise. I should have been home from Gateshead by one o’clock. Instead, it was fucking four. But I’ve written it up a lot better in my phone messages to Tony Gadd and Jenni. Tonight I ate BBQ beans, mushrooms, baked potatoes and beef steak. I bought Jenni a load of sweet stuff for Saturday. I listen to The Beautiful Ones compilation album from Suede and a bit of Amelia Coburn. I did some promo work and responded to Ann Porro about her pamphlet, which I’ll be making this year. Then it was The Living Dead by Suede live from York. Superb. 11.50pm.


Thursday 12th February 2026

Trimmed the replenished pamphlet stock. Inked up more Thirteen Days in May, and sewed up So Much for the Sunshine. Did a session plan tonight for next Tuesday. Been asleep for a while as well. Jenni sent an updated version of my Coming Back to This poster, but Facebook wouldn’t let me replace the original on my recent post, so now it just has two dates but no pic showing what they are for. I’ve uploaded the new pic as a separate post. Stupid tech. I’ve had curried butternut squash soup and a good chilli with baked potato. Now I’m going to have my last Thornton’s toffee. I tried to read The Glorious Heresies by Lisa McInerney, but fell asleep. 11.17pm.


Friday 13th February 2026

Another bookmaking day. Got a few covers glued on So Much for the Sunshine and made up some copies of Final. A roofing company rep asked me if I’d like a no obligation quote for a new roof but there’s no way I can afford it. I had a bit of a gristly steak for tea. The bus to Jen’s place was freezing. But I’ve had a canny couple of days. I’m chuffed to do work on the books. I hope to get a decent turnout for the gigs next week. The Last Leg is on. Political. I’m struggling to stay awake. Gonna knock off soon. OK. 10.54pm.


Saturday 14th February 2026

Happy Valentine’s Day. Jenni got me a Gavin and Stacey book. And I got her a box of assorted cakes, chocolates and puddings. Jenni went to see Punk Rock Factory at NX in Newcastle. I went to see Amelia Coburn at the Common Room in the Mining Institute down the road. We enjoyed our gigs and met up afterwards to get supplies at Tesco. OK. 11.17pm.


Sunday 15th February 2026

Big lie in. Morning Pages. Than a lazy day – scrolling social media and watching vintage game shows on television. Jenni made spice bags for tea: coconut rice, chilli pepper, tomatoes, chicken nuggets – very nice. I came home early to rehearse again for tomorrow’s Bowburn gig. If I go off script, the adlibs are a bit long, but I’m sure it will all be okay on the day. 11.08pm.


Monday 16th February 2026

Up at half six to get ready for my Local Author Festival gig. I was at Waddy just after eleven. I was back in Durham bus station by one. And in Bowburn library by two. Took less than half an hour to set up. Very low turnout. Four people. Two of them had been on my writing courses over a decade ago. One was published in our 2008 Waddy Writers anthology. And the other attended a Claypath Library course in 2013. It was good to adlib anecdotes between readings and talk at length about bookmaking. OK. 10.40pm.


Tuesday 17th February 2026

Today was great. The buses were on time. I had one of the best turnouts for a Waddy workshop since I left New College Durham. Exercises I made up last week flowed well and people enjoyed them. I dropped my bags off in Consett Library, then went to Barry’s Bargain Superstore for some cheap cakes, butternut squash soup and chilli. I ate a 72p Walls sausage roll with Greggs spicy wedges for tea whilst standing at a pillar in the Derwent Centre near Boyes. Then I set up my gig at the library. The Lego club was just finishing. My name was on flyers on the table. A woman asked if I was the author. I showed her a handmade hardback copy of Anomalies. She bought Laughter to Split Glass. The gig went well. People asked good questions and I sold £65 of stock. Martin Weston kindly gave me a lift home. Today was great. 11.35pm.


Wednesday 18th February 2026

Not a great day. Probably just comedown off last night. I’ve prepped my workshop handouts for Friday and pulled together a Waddy session for next Tuesday. I went out for an hour on the bike this afternoon. I had chilli and rice for tea then did physio. Tonight I read a few pages of the Gavin and Stacy book that Jenni bought me. Told Jenni about last night’s gig. It would be good to do full shows a couple of times every week. I’m cold now. Tired and irritable. I hope things work out OK for me. 11.30pm.


Thursday 19th February 2026

A bloke tried to sell me a new roof today. He stood on the landing and shone his phone light into the attic hatch and said the wooden beams are knackered, and the roofing lining is shot. He stood in the back garden and said the chimney has no mortar keeping it together. The house is over 50 years old. Do I have to pay £8,900 for a new roof? I’m a scribbler, not a bank manager. “Okay”, he said, “How about £7,000 on a spring deal?” If nearly a quarter of the original price can be ditched in two minutes, was it worth the best part of nine grand in the first place? I have rarely earned more than seven grand in a year. I’ve never spent more than eight hundred in one go. I am not commercially viable. Not many writers are. Not one of my best days. OK. 10.55pm.


Friday 20th February 2026

Today was canny. The buses were all on time. The writing session was very well attended. Ten participants, with some of the regulars absent. I repeated Tuesday’s Waddy session. One-minute sentences, poem cut-ups, character sketches, kennings. I ate cold pasta for lunch and a banana. Alwyn Bathan and I exchanged writing gripes on the ride to Gateshead. Later in Consett, I bought fruit, veg and meat. My house was freezing when I got back. I’m still concerned about the roof. I don’t know if I should be. It doesn’t sag. And any leak it had was due to a knackered ridge tile long since repaired. No tiles are missing. Sure, it looks grotty, but so fuck. I wear grotty clothes. My silver Rockhopper bike is 20 years old. Just because the council upgrades others, does it mean I have to? Maybe I should get an opinion from someone with no skin in the game. OK. 11.52pm.


Saturday 21st February 2026

Bit of a lie in this morning, then a porridge breakfast and change into bike clothes for a little ride on the old Rockhopper. Most of the off-road route was okay but some bits were extremely muddy. I rode down the wood to Allensford and along to the pumphouse, uphill to the top of the slag heaps, then across to Knitsley, back over to Rowley, then home. I’ve eaten a lot of reduced-price chicken. Me and Jenni watched Britain’s Got Talent. OK. 11.05pm.


Sunday 22nd February 2026

Big lazy day at Jen’s. We listened to Paddy McGuinness, then the woman sitting in for Elaine Paige. Tonight we watched Year of the Rabbit – which is hilarious – and the snooker final. Now Gogglebox. I’ve eaten too much food this month. Need to get back to the diet. Big work ahead. OK. 10.47pm.


Monday 23rd February 2026

Energy level is low tonight. Didn’t get as much done as I’d have liked. I got the materials ready for tomorrow’s Waddy session. Sometimes it only takes a few minutes to sequence a list of activities on paper, but up to two hours to find items and duplicate them for handouts. During the search I often discover other stuff suitable for subsequent sessions. I made myself an ace chicken dinner tonight. First time using leeks. I am still eating sweet mince pies. I’ve put on a few pounds. My left arm is aching again. I fell asleep on the settee. OK. 11.52pm.


Tuesday 24th February 2026

Go North East gave us a decent bus with good seats. Nothing rattled. I sat upstairs reading a journaling handbook from 1990. At lunchtime I sat in the Waddy staff kitchen and listened to some political discussions about grassroots Labour and how the party is difficult to vote for these days. I won’t be voting for them. I’m getting more cynical about it all. Each party just seems to be playing from the same big corporation songbook. My workshop went well this afternoon. I anticipated an early finish, so I came up with a little cut-up exercise to finish off with, using lines we wrote at the start of the session, bringing it all full circle. I got more supplies at Tesco and Barry’s this afternoon. Then home for another big chicken dinner. Had some doorstep confusion from a BT representative. I don’t like change and will stick with TalkTalk. OK. 10.07pm.


Wednesday 25th February 2026

Procrastination. Awful. Little done. Booked a guest for the April edition of Poetry Jam. Was booked to perform at an acoustic music event in May, which I'm looking forward to. Been watching biketrial clips, extreme parkour, and little bits of wellbeing interviews on Facebook reels. I read a bit more of Defying Gravity – Jordan’s Story, ate baked potatoes with mushrooms, curry beans and tuna, drank loads of apple and blackcurrant squash, and have been out in the twelve degrees sunshine on the old Rockhopper bike. But now I feel a bit of a sniffle coming on. The Wi-Fi went a bit dodgy this evening, but it's okay now. Jenni is raving about last night's Peter Capaldi music gig at The Cluny. I'm pleased she had a good time. I've got a few bookings. Need to rehearse new material. OK. 10.37pm.


Thursday 26th February 2026

Up quite early. Greatly entertained by connoisseur of the meat takeaway, Kyle Vs Food, on Facebook reels this morning. My pages are brighter than usual. I edited a lot of entries on the mobile and did some work for Washington writers but got a stinking headache towards the end of it. Had a chicken dinner and a long lie down. Then read Defying Gravity for an hour. I've been snacking on nuts and sultanas a lot. I'm behind in my work. But things are getting better with the milder temperatures. Another month and I should be firing on all cylinders. I need to up the protein intake. I need more meat. I wanted to read some of Clive Barker's Books of Blood this winter. I wanted to read lots of books. I should stay off the mobile device. I've just had cheese on toast. 0K. 11.37pm.


Friday 27th February 2026

Ten minutes to do my evening page or the world might end! Well, not really. It's been a busy day. Negotiating house repairs, working on a Waddington Street Writers pamphlet, and making up a preliminary copy of Ann Porro's forthcoming pamphlet. And of course the Green Party won a by-election. And the fascists are seething. Poor little Nazi boys. Fuck off! I'm feeling pretty good. Jenni haggled a good price on a commercial-use license for a typewriter font for me this evening. And Ann is pleased with the pics I sent of her pamphlet. It's early days and there are always teething problems and tech issues, but we’ll get there. I would like to see the Michael Monroe band at Northumbria Uni tomorrow night, but my ears can't really take it. I've not got much else to say. Just chuffed to be feeling good today. 11.53pm.


Saturday 28th February 2026

I cheated today. I've been awake for about three hours. I picked up the mobile device just to check the temperature, but got distracted and decided to go back over the last year of posts on my Facebook feed. Lots of great things I'd forgotten about – gigs, dialogues, poetry happenings, lovely supportive comments from friends... It's good to take time to reflect on the positives, instead of doom scrolling and spewing negatives.

Today is a fair bit cooler than yesterday. Last night I had my sleeves rolled up and was busy with bookmaking activities till about nine o'clock. Then I took a walk up to The Grove convenience store to post a preliminary pamphlet to Ann Porro. £3.60 first class. £2.00 second class.

Old-school hard-copy small press activity in the nineties was slow but affordable. A few pound coins sellotaped into a card wallet for the latest issue of Scratch or Headlock magazine. The internet is good for lots of things, but has made snail mail ridiculously expensive.
 
I'm cheating today. I'll be posting my blog long before I do an evening page. Last day of the month. The clocks get set forward an hour in March. Hopefully I'll be able to bike more. I wanted to get out today but there isn't time. I'm not going to Jen’s until tomorrow. I need to be home first thing Tuesday to speak to another man about a roof. It seems you don't have to pay through the nose after all.

Some kid is screeching and mithering in the street and it's aggravating the fuck out of me. How women cope I don't know. I just don't have the patience. I have tolerance for very little...

Yesterday I pulled out a dozen workshop notebooks from last year. A dozen. And that wasn't including January and February. I've got 24 morning pages books plus my evening diary, work log, and gratitude journal. I write far too many words that won't make it into print.

I thought about putting together a hard-copy photo album with captions, bits of poetry and some of Jenni’s witticisms. Poems as well.

I looked through the C2C album earlier. I like it. I think I did okay visually documenting the ride. I also read some of my 'Longer Days and Lighter Nights' pieces written during lockdown. The challenge was to go out for a walk about half an hour before dusk each evening, observing and writing about the surroundings, avoiding any first-person pronouns. I did about eighty nights from the day after the clocks went forward an hour to the longest day in June. I took photographs each day and wrote an A7 page of notes. I posted a few online each week. A whole book of it might be too much. But there are some good image captures and turns of phrase that might make it into print at some point.

I need to plan a workshop for Tuesday. Or, I might just repeat something from a couple of years ago. I've had Wednesday to Friday at home but don't seem to have done much. I keep thinking of new things to work on. I wish I'd had the savvy to publish personal annuals from 2000 onwards. I will never get all the work published. The next official poetry collection will be something of a New and Selected, really. 'Laughter to Split Glass' spanned over a decade of creativity.

I don't think I should bother with breakfast today. It's going to be nearly eleven before I'm back in the kitchen. I usually have dinner around half twelve.

I want to read more of Jordan Mooney’s/Cathi Unsworth’s Defying Gravity book. And some Clive Barker. I want to get out on the bike. It was a good move going to Tesco after posting the pamphlet last night. Enough grub to keep me going till Tuesday.

Busy week next week. Need to get something sorted soon for Mother's Day. Need to prepare a new set for King Ink. I'm thinking of taking the one I used at 'For Better or Verse' last autumn as a starting point, and gradually replacing pieces till I get a new flow. I want to include more prose. Well, more prose-ier than some of my poetry, haha!

The sky looks quite heavy this morning. But not cold enough for snow. Oh and I must remember to make up a new morning pages notebook for March. I'll see how loud the empty can rattles next month.

Anyway, this has been a better month than January. And the next one should see me with increased momentum.

Thanks for reading this far. Have a good one. OK. 10.45am.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

Thursday 1st January 2026

Loaded with cold. Snotty beak and a bit of a cough. Sore throat before breakfast, but that eased by mid-morning. Went into town for more supplies. Had lentil and bacon soup with a tin of tuna in it. Jenni stayed in bed to beat the cold and watch telly. I feel rotten. I should have stayed in Consett. Jenni wanted me to be here for New Year. But not a great way to start. I read the opening chapters of How Saints Die by Carmen Marcus. I made notes, otherwise I'd forget what I'd read. Literary, visual vignettes from a Saltburn poet. I ate hot dogs for tea. This evening, after Day of the Triffids, after Aladdin, some game shows and Gogglebox. Now it’s The Salt Path Exposed documentary. If only they'd deemed it autofiction. Hope my snottiness goes away soon. OK. 11.33pm.

Friday 2nd January 2026

Another snotty day. Went back out to Gateshead. Tempted to buy new joggers, but didn't. Got lots more supplies for the next couple of days. My nose is really fucking sore. Sick of snotting on. Had Beecham's hot lemon a couple of times. Really tired now. Hope I feel better soon or I’ll have to cancel next week's appointments. Surely I'll be okay by next Friday, my only paid gig of the week. I earn fuck-all these days. Shocking really. OK. 11.16pm.


Saturday 3rd January 2026

Better day. Cough seems to be easing a bit. Me and Jenni watched The Coffee Table this afternoon. A really dark so-called comedy, worth checking out. This evening BBC Newcastle broadcast my chat with Emma Millen for Upload. It was well edited and I came across okay. Game shows and music videos this evening. Lots of food and the heating is on. OK. 10.55pm.


Sunday 4th January 2026

Still a bit snotty but heating on in Jen's place all day. I made a big pottage with mushrooms and baked potatoes but Jenni didn't want any. We watched Bowie Final Act. Very good. Very moving. Black Star ending. I read quite a bit of How Saints Die, but I haven't made notes so won't remember much. Sorted my Christmas stuff out back in cellar twelve. Absolutely freezing. OK. 10.17pm.


Monday 5th January 2026

Too fucking cold to function. I've been heating a water bottle every hour to keep my hands warm enough to type. I didn't want to spend a lot of time in town buying supplies, so spent lots of money in the convenience store around the corner instead. My head feels a little bit numb. I want to read but the books are like ice. I won't stay up beyond nine o'clock at my place. I got some of the front room tidied up. Selected a lot of stuff for tomorrow's workshop. I'm not good at present. Struggling to answer emails. I hate having the desktop computer on. I need to be at Waddington Street Centre to edit stuff because it's just too cold at home. I fucking hate winter now. I got out on the bike for an hour and that was okay but the house is total misery. I did physio, but now struggle to hold a pen. Pleased I got shaved earlier. Hope tomorrow is better. OK. 8.28pm.


Tuesday 6th January 2026

Tough day. Tried to pack for the Waddy workshop. Hot and cold flushes, headache. I tried again, but in the end thought it best just to ring in and tell them I’ve still got a head cold or flu. I still had to go out this afternoon for food supplies. And I think there is something wrong with the water tank overflow pipe at the side of the house. One more thing to be anxious about. I was in Lloyds bank about forty minutes waiting to make my National Insurance Contributions payment. I could hardly walk and felt totally drained. When I eventually got home after a bus no show, I had chicken jalfrezi and rice for tea. Then watched Saint Maud. It's a good film about religious obsession and mental illness. Initially I fell asleep and had to put it on a third time after I watched all the extras. A warm evening wrapped up on the couch. I hope the house is okay this winter. 11.14pm.


Wednesday 7th January 2026

Have cancelled the rest of the week. Coughing quite a lot at night, I spent most of the day reading How Saints Die by Carmen Marcus. Chicken dinner with veg at teatime. Out of date Christmas pudding with custard so no need for supper. Watched a Joy Division documentary this evening. Then the Lemmy documentary. Possibly nodded off but stayed warm. Did physio. OK. 11.10pm.

Thursday 8th January 2026

I'm looking forward to the end of this week when the temperature is forecast to rise considerably. I will be at Jen's place for a couple of days and will monitor how my feelings change. Mornings are worst. Aches and pains, coughing up phlegm. Fatigue despite eight hours sleep. On the plus side, I was offered a paid workshop in Newcastle, so that's something for late March. I tried to read this afternoon but kept falling asleep. This evening I watched Stephen King’s ‘Salem's Lot’ starring David Soul and James Mason. I've seen it a couple of times before. It's three hours long. Enjoyable lightweight material with the main vampire cast in the Nosferatu image. Hope I get a comfortable sleep. OK. 11.30pm.


Friday 9th January 2026

Another day just stuck in the house. I cleaned the stair carpet and that was enough to wipe me out for the rest of the day. Too tired to read. I slept till teatime. My tuna, beans and baked potato tasted foul and I couldn't finish it. I watched Black Phone on DVD this evening - a canny little horror set in 70s Denver. Ethan Hawke as the grabber who abducts kids from the local estate. Trapped in a basement shit. Great leading roles from the youngsters. Hawke wore a mask for most of the film. Not enough time to watch another full-length feature, I just stuck a Pistols documentary on for an hour. I am looking forward to reading Defying Gravity – Jordan’s story. But at present my physical health is at rock bottom. Hopefully a rise in temperature next week might help me shrug off the lurgy. OK. 11.12pm.


Saturday 10th January 2026

Up around nine. Usually I do morning pages before breakfast, but they've been very difficult this week. I had porridge before writing. I felt okay for a few hours and did a little housework. Took ages to get to Bensham. Had to double back from Consett because I thought I'd left my front door unlocked. Very tearful when I got to Jen's. Just feel totally burnt out. She got me some lentil and bacon soup. We watched some commentary on Psychoville. Then a Ray Bradbury short story adaptation. OK. 10.18pm.


Sunday 11th January 2026

Managed to get into town with Jenni this afternoon for supplies. Bitterly cold. Then it was fun seeing Jenni turn her room upside down in search of a hiking boot. Later, we went to Tyneside Cinema to see the old classic Theatre of Blood starring Vincent Price. Most people there, if not all, knew the film. It was just a treat to see it on the big screen. I felt a bit better today. Hopefully a lot warmer tomorrow. I have to go back to Consett, I think. Not sure. Watched some Masters snooker tonight. OK. 10.27pm.


Monday 12th January 2026

Up quite early with a lot of energy. The temperature considerably higher than yesterday. I got the eleven o’clock bus to Consett, checked payment dates for my earnings, bought chicken and beef steaks and other bits and pieces, then went to Moorside to wait for cousin Gordon the plumber to fit a new valve in the attic water tank. The job took about forty-five minutes and I'm grateful that a 74-year-old man would risk climbing into the attic of a freezing cold house. My coughing intensified greatly back home and I've had to concede that I need some sort of heat in the place or I’ll die an early death. Got the bus back to Bensham. Jenni prepared leek quiche with potato croquettes and Branston beans. We watched the first part of a documentary about Edgar Allan Poe. I still don't know if I'll make it to Waddington Street Centre tomorrow. I'm concerned more about other people's health than mine. OK. 11.23pm.


Tuesday 13th January 2026

Felt a lot better today. Up by eight and showered. Had banana on toast for breakfast then did some morning pages. Got a shave then packed for Waddy. Good to get there without coughing my guts up. The session went well but was basically just a little warm up: first times, origins of writing journeys, etc. it was good to see the Waddy Writers and the staff. Bus back to Gateshead was a bit slow. Tried to read more of Carmen Marcus's novel. Back in Gateshead, the cold air had me coughing my guts up again. This evening we watched the rest of the Edgar Allan Poe documentary and a couple of episodes of Minder. OK. 11.21pm.


Wednesday 14th January 2026

Today was disappointing. I had some laughs with Jenni this morning but found the rest of the day to be draining. I didn't really engage well with the workshop at Waddington Street Centre. Josie and Carmen were lovely, but I found translating random words into collaged postcard designs quite difficult. I've been coughing my guts up again. The cold air in the cold house is to blame. I will probably have to bite the bullet and buy a portable heater. I had a chat with Waddy staff. Basically, I just can't follow anyone's lead. My brain shuts down. I've had over three decades of living alone. And twenty-five years with no boss. And I fucking hate 90% of lifelong chores as well. I can't see me ever going back to a proper job. I watched Stephen King's 'Misery' tonight. Excellent! 11.29pm.


Thursday 15th January 2026

Better day. Huge lie-in till after ten. Wrote some horrible morning pages that I resisted posting online. I might use them in a book at some point. Ate fruit salad porridge for breakfast. Made up a new morning pages book for the second half of this month. After oxtail soup, I read about one hundred pages of How Saints Die. Some lovely poetic vignettes and dramatic narrative. I still have about twenty-five pages to read but needed to take a breather. I listened to the BBC Radio 6 programme ‘David Bowie Forever’ in which Lauren Laverne and Henry Rollins discussed the impact of Bowie’s music on their lives. Some great tracks including Gail Ann Darcy dueting on Under Pressure. Also some Iggy and Lou Reed collaborations, and ending on I Can't Give Everything Away from the Black Star album. I saw Hank do spoken word in Newcastle when Bowie died. He retold the 2007 Bowie lunch story on the radio. OK. 11.45pm.


Friday 16th January 2026

A lot of prose poetry seeped out of my pen this morning. I tidied up the best bits and posted them online this afternoon. Slow burn. The stuff of mine I like the most is the confessional stuff, not the throw away cartoonish verse that makes people laugh. Tonight I played back Bristol Flash Fiction Festival’s epic three-hour Kathy Fish workshop from last July. So chuffed with the feedback she gave me. I've made more notes and printed out the key texts from the session and will do a version of it next week at Waddington Street Centre. I mean, why not, it cost me fifty quid, plus travel and accommodation. I've held up quite well today. About fourteen hours. OK. 11.30pm.


Saturday 17th January 2026

Good to get some notebooks up to date and a load of workshop material ready for next week. Good shave with my last blade. Then a walk into town. Me and Jenni watched Judd trump and John Higgins in a Masters snooker semi-final. Then Kyren Wilson against Wu Yize in the other semi. Wilson took it without Wu even getting a single point in the final frame. OK. 11.20pm.


Sunday 18th January 2026

Big lie-in till ten o'clock. Morning pages. Banana on toast. Then a walk into Gateshead for supplies. Much of today spent watching the Masters snooker final on television live from Ally Pally. John Higgins struggled to keep up with Kyren Wilson and lost out by a few frames. Jenny is watching Schindler's List. A good reminder of what utter cunts the Nazis were. And all those who think like them today. 10.54pm.


Monday 19th January 2026

Another big lie-in because me and Jenni stayed up till quarter to two watching the truly chilling Schindler's List. I've seen it a few times now and it seems more hard-hitting in light of recent world events. But you still probably couldn't convince me to fire a gun at a foreigner coz some politician told me to. I'm more likely to shoot the person forcing me to pick up the gun. I've always hated war mentality. But then again, humans are pathetically overrated as a species anyway; you’d think people would have grown out of international conflict by now. Fuck WWIII. And all those salivating at the thought of it. Me and Jenni watched Little House on the Prairie and The Waltons. I slept on the bus back to Consett. Chicken Jalfrezi and rice for tea. This evening I did final prep for tomorrow's workshop then read a little bit of ‘Defying Gravity’ - Jordan Mooney's story co-authored by Cathi Unsworth. Bed early. OK. 10.25pm.


Tuesday 20th January 2026

The workshop was okay but only two writers in. I used some KM Elkes flash fiction and four exercises from the Kathy Fish workshop from last July’s Bristol Flash Fiction Festival. Breathless paragraphs, anaphora - a lot of it is like poetry to me. Some days I get tired of trying to tease a good poem or vignette from my brain. Most of my best pieces are flukes. I never know what I'm going to end up with, and can't replicate the process to get another good result. I might get one good piece from an exercise, then with each subsequent attempt the result seems diluted, contrived, and utterly disposable. Most days I feel like a fraud. A lot of days this year I've wanted to jack it all in but I've got nothing to fall back on. I mainly use writing as catharsis and often can't be arsed to go beyond my (dis) comfort zone. 10.46pm.


Wednesday 21st January 2026

Another long day of feeling useless. Another reminder that I know fuck all about fiction. Too self-absorbed. Too lacking in interest in others. Not enough empathy. I came away from Carmen’s workshop feeling totally impotent as a writer. It made me want to jack in writing altogether. I am a one-trick pony who thought the grass was greener on the other side, and it isn’t. I don’t know why I keep trying to be other than what I am. Currently, I just spew whatever comes naturally and pick the bones out of it. Teacher? Facilitator? Talk about shooting yourself in the foot. Talk about professional suicide. If I stop writing, I’m just a spent old man staring into the abyss. Today made me want to stop writing, stop facilitating and stop hosting Poetry Jam. Carmen was great. I am not. 11.20pm.


Thursday 22nd January 2026

Good to get Poetry Jam publicity out today. I wrote a letter to Waddy coz I was asked how yesterday went for me. The letter was cathartic. But might set off alarm bells about my state of mind. Tonight I listened to Suede’s ‘Antidepressants’ album and a bit of ‘Autofiction’. I read a bunch of Damian Dressick’s short stories from ‘Fables of the Deconstruction’ – which he signed for me after his workshop in Bristol last year. I’ve eaten steamed potatoes, carrots and broccoli, with mushrooms and a beef medallion steak. Shaved. Knocked off at the desktop computer by quarter to ten. I need to be up very early to get out for the Washington workshop. I hope it goes well. Basically a repeat of exercises I did on Tuesday. I remembered to do physio tonight. OK. 9.53pm.


Friday 23rd January 2026

Today was better. Session at Washington went well. And why shouldn’t it? All the exercises were shown to me at Bristol Flash Fiction Festival last summer. Big thanks to the writers for engaging. Big thanks to Alwyn Bathan for the lift to Metro Centre. I didn’t want to go home because I didn’t trust buses to get me back out again tonight, so I just hung around in The Works and HMV then went to Consett for steak pie and chips, which I ate in a cold doorway as the rain came slanting down. Then I sat in Wetherspoons, going over material for tonight’s open mic. For Better or Verse was great. First time I’ve seen the brilliant Cat Bell perform. Open mic was good. Aaron Wright had all his props and anarchy poetry to close the night after kindly talking me through formatting for print-on-demand paperbacks. Thanks Mel and Steve Wood. OK. 11.25pm.


Saturday 24th January 2026

Took till midday to sort the bag-pack for a weekend in Gateshead. Left Consett at quarter past three. Slept quite a while on the bus. Me and Jenni watched the new Nuremberg film. Good riddance fucking Nazi scum. I’m a bit tired. Raging tinnitus. But I’m warm in the attic at the big house and Jenni is lovely company. OK. 11.26pm.


Sunday 25th January 2026

Guess who’s fifty-six. Jenni bought me a new mobile device, Rob Auton tickets, a calendar, a Withnail & I script book, and a Wednesday Adams keyring. Jenni made a lush curry for dinner. We watched an ace Sean Hughes tribute gig online, in which his celeb mates read his poems and prose to a pub basement audience. Jen’s mam and John got me stationery, chocolates and nuts. Mam and Ernie sent a lovely card and cheque. Thanks to all my Facebook friends who got in touch with well wishes. Me and Jenni watched a music documentary on 70s rockers Argent (Kiss covered their God Gave Rock and Roll to You). OK. 10.17pm.


Monday 26th January 2026

Just got sick of all the bastard clutter so piles of workshop handouts from last year are now in the wheelie bin. I’ll get rid of more later in the week. If it’s not in a notebook or a folder, it’s going in the bin! I have about twenty years of clutter to get rid of. The desktop computer’s Outlook email system won’t fucking open. But at least I got train tickets to York and back booked for next month and can access via the new mobile device that Jenni bought and set up for me. Tonight I keyed in some Waddy writers’ poems. Enough stuff for a 40-page pamphlet anthology. OK. 11.30pm.


Tuesday 27th January 2026

Ratty mood this morning and the weather didn’t help. Pools of water on the bus to Durham. I read through a bunch of 2019 writing marathon pieces and liked a lot of them. There may be potential for a series of vignettes in the September Scrapbook format. Had a chat with Waddy staff about mental health and creativity, then photocopied pages of poems for a potential new anthology. Workshop after dinner went quite well. We had a new participant, so I did a standard taster session. This evening me and Jenni saw Bill Bailey in conversation with Dave Johns for Desert Island Flicks. Quite a few bizarre choices from Bill that we’d like to check out. Walked back from Tyneside Cinema to get supplies in Gateshead Tesco. Banana on peshwari for supper. Then watched brilliant North-East comedian Louise Young totally storming it on Live at the Apollo. OK. 11.01pm.


Wednesday 28th January 2026

Good day. Up early at Jen’s place. Did my pages and checked the buses. Set off just before ten from Bensham then got X21 to Durham. Keyed in some flash fiction stuff from marathon books and chatted with a volunteer facilitator about music. He is going to see Suede in Newcastle. I’m going to see them the week before in York (fingers crossed with Pro earplugs). Carmen and Josie’s workshop was good. An advanced version of an I Am poem. Discussions about process and graphics, and help to come up with a visual presentation of my latest words. Tonight I had a chicken dinner then fell asleep. I read some Kathy Fish flash fiction then watched a video of her doing a mini workshop. (I remember/I don’t remember/tomorrow... with random feed-in words and phrases). Kathy read a great story about a grocery store hold-up. I did my physio and will be in bed around midnight. 11.51pm.


Thursday 29th January 2026

Pleased to be able to edit a load of prose on the new mobile device via Word. It’s much better in winter to be able to use a handheld device rather than be tied to the desktop computer. One degree here in Moorside. I should have bought the heater, but I’ve felt okay for a week now, as far as temperature goes. This morning I did a stocktake of the 2023 pamphlets. I’m mostly down to ones and twos and need to replenish. I tried watching some DVDs this evening but the player wouldn’t read anything properly. My ears are ringing. I haven’t bought proper concert plugs yet. I keep feeling anxious about everything. I’m fearful of how things might be next year. I feel useless a lot of the time. 10.39pm.


Friday 30th January 2026

Winter is making work really difficult. I don’t seem to be making much progress. The house is a mess, I’m tired all the time, and feel a bit lost. Today I was out at the funeral of an ex-neighbour from Bridgehill. George Devanney was a good man and loved by many. I spoke briefly to Peter and Joan after the service but didn’t stay long. Tonight, after failing to purchase good ear plugs, I mostly scrolled social media, watched bike videos and live Suede tracks. I’m hoping to see Suede in York next weekend. This winter is really messing me up. Low motivation. Must try harder tomorrow. 10.55pm.


Saturday 31st January 2026

Okay, last one, then we can say Good Riddance to this awful month.
   I tried to keep a little fictional thread running yesterday morning, but it just reads at best like autobiography displaced to third person, and at worst like very loose jottings towards a narrative that doesn’t really go anywhere. Three pages could be summed up by saying: the character reluctantly goes out in the rain to catch a bus, thumbs a free newspaper onboard, anxiously needs the toilet, and goes to Wetherspoons before posting an important document. Three pages. That’s literally all that happens.
   When I try to write long form, it comes out like I’m trying to emulate Samuel Beckett’s novel style – even though I don’t read Samuel Beckett these days because I don’t have to - having seen three generations of Urwin living like Beckett characters out of necessity, not artistic choice.
   I might try reading Franz Kafka and Paul Auster again. But in terms of my own writing, it’s probably best to just stick with the mini vignettes, free verse and journal entries.
   I tried to get concert-quality earplugs at Boots in Eldon Square yesterday, but was told they only sell them online. A guy in HMV said Loop are the best brand. They cut out seventeen decibels of noise. Hopefully enough to allow me to enjoy the Suede gig in York next Saturday without further damage. I’ll order some when I put the desktop computer on this afternoon.
   Tomorrow afternoon, I aim to be at the Together Lounge in Consett for Lorraine Weightman’s book launch. Her debut novel is called Good Company. The event starts at 2.00pm.
   I don’t know if I’m going to Jen’s. I still have a Washington workshop to prep for next Friday, but could possibly sort it on Thursday. I need to tweak my set-lists for next month’s library readings in Bowburn and Consett.
   I’ve struggled to do much this last couple of weeks. I just seem to be looking forward to better days. I didn’t do physio last night, so I should get it out of the way this morning.
   I need to recharge batteries for the pocket camcorder. Jenni says the new mobile has an ace camera on it - but I don’t want to use it for Poetry Jam. I like my old Kodak grainy archive-looking stills from video. But they take ages to edit and upload.
   I keep having moments when I can’t be bothered to attempt anything. My personal motivation is at an all-time low.
   I think I’ve got too much backlog. I should just work through my notebooks and publish the best of what I’ve produced in the last fifteen to twenty years.
   I’ve already had banana on toast for breakfast, so now I suppose I should just crack on. 9.27am.