Proper Lazy Bastard

Monday 4th February 2019

First Monday I’ve woken up in Moorside for a few weeks. Allowed for a good start on the work. Recorded a video of ‘Coming Back To This’ from ‘Hypomaniac’ for a disability arts blog programmed by Lisette Auton. Got a positive response from Durham University Poetry Society for the piece I wrote about my stuff and Poetry Jam. This evening I’ve been mainly doing recaps for the Waddy workshops. House is a lot warmer tonight. 10.34 pm.

Tuesday 5th February 2019

Thought half term is next week but it’s the week after, so we have a 6/4 split. Still ran the half-way recap. Good to hear student pieces again from previous weeks and more enthusiasm for a group booklet. Stayed back in seminar room to write Steve Achieves then four o’clock bus to Consett. Read more of Ronnie O’Sullivan’s FRAMED novel. Tweaked a final draft of the Durham Uni piece. Got a nice update from Mark Speeding regarding next month’s ‘Laughter To Split Glass’ event at Gateshead Library. Spent evening editing stuff. House cold again. Wish winter would fuck right off. Mug of hot chocolate. Bed. 11.25 pm.

Wednesday 6th February 2019

Even the nurse at Moorside surgery doesn’t know what the appointment is for. Just a routine check, I guess. But initially when asked I say, Haven’t a clue. Are you still on medication? – Not for about five years. – But you still have blood tests? – Usually at Queen’s Road. – Well, I’ll do them this time and you can ask the doctor next week if they’re really necessary. Sharp scratch. She jabs the needle in my right arm, screws on a little bottle that fills up with claret then deftly switches receptacle for a second sample. What about physical exercise? – Mountain bike. – Even this time of year? – Gateshead and back every week… We talk about dangerous roads. She rides as well and tells me about some poor bloke just given the all clear from physio: car blinded by sun pulled out in front of him and he ended up on its roof – short-lived return to cycling. Do you smoke? – I had one cigarette at fifteen and couldn’t see what was so good about it. – Wise teenager. She weighs me. I’m still twelve stone. Okay, all done… Rest of the day is copy-ups and reading. 10.56 pm.

Thursday 7th February 2019

Busy day. Out early for food supplies. Finding it hard to fit in all the small chores – clean clothes, tidy kitchen, filing. A builder knocks when I’m back from the shops and it’s the same end ridge tile I’ve avoided for six years. I don’t have a spare forty-five quid... Helen Steadman kindly agrees to replace unwell Karen Middleton for tonight’s Poetry Jam. I get shaved, have a cheap mince pasty and beans then bus down to Durham, reading a bit of Ronnie on the way. Prepare for two workshops. No idea how many people will make the gig but it’s actually a phenomenal turn out. Loads of good open floor readings. Great sets from Helen, Patrick Shannon and Jess Johnson. Then a ride home thanks to Fergus. Three lots of cheese on toast, some stollen. Then Question Time from Motherwell: they don’t seem any happier north of the border than us about the current political shit shower… 11.18 pm.

Friday 8th February 2019

Final Consett workshop for a few weeks. We looked at lots of short poetic forms. Which made some participants think all their creative writing Christmases had come at once. Tricubes, Nonets, Lunes, Tritinas, Rondelets, Pantoums… Good fun. After the session we went to Wetherspoons. Then I nipped into Tesco to check out music and bike mags. This evening I’ve mainly been looking at various biketrial and BMX videos. Drooling over old-school eighties bikes remade for the noughties in 26- and 29-inch sizes. SE Racing – the makers of the classic PK Ripper and Quadangle frames – do some lovely retro style big rigs, but they mostly seem to be used by new wave wheelie freaks. I’d want to use a new bike for old school freestyle moves – rockwalks, rollback 540s, sliders and kickturns. I checked out some footage from ‘Alan’s BMX’ – a Wigan-based retailer remembered from my teens and still going strong after thirty years. Might be good to visit some day. 11.20 pm.

Saturday 9th February 2019

Didn’t put a foot over the doorstep today. Poetry Jam pix took ages to upload but worth it to have a visual record of such a great night. I was at the computer till ten this evening. Keyed in some 2017 notes and started to format the pages of a book I’m working on throughout 2019. Enjoyed my bacon and eggs fry-up and all the chocolate. Very sleepy now. 11.19 pm.

Sunday 10th February 2019

Read the final third of Ronnie O’Sullivan’s ‘Framed’ this afternoon. It’s a novel about a young guy trying to prove his brother is innocent of grisly murder. For me, mainstream fiction is similar to watching television drama – a recreational activity, not really a literary experience – and a welcome diversion from my usual preoccupations, an entertaining read. The protagonist was quite likeable. The plot wasn’t too taxing for my limited attention span, a manageable number of characters with canny dialogue. Descriptive relish kept to a minimum. I spotted a few mistakes in the text here and there – wrong character name, odd tautology. Sentence structure very choppy, expletives frequent, but violence not too extreme. Pace picked up well towards the end, as you’d expect for mainstream page-turner audiences, and the final unfolding of whodunit and why was interesting. More discerning tasters of sustained fiction might think otherwise, but from the mind of someone who knocks balls around a table for a living, Framed – with miniscule snooker references – is a pretty impressive first novel. Ronnie has released two more in as many years. How much help he’s had from an editor, I’m not sure, but that sort of output makes us poetry pushers with our slim volumes look like proper lazy bastards… Right now, I’m listening to Polish extreme metal merchants Behemoth. Fabulously dark intensity. Wish I’d seen them in Manchester last night. Maybe next time… 9.26 pm.