Wednesday 1st January 2020
Happy New Year! I managed to
get up quite early and convert some book files to PDF for printouts. Knocked
off around quarter past eleven when Jenni got up. We sat about for a bit then
made another big dinner. Didn’t take as long as last week. I had chicken pie
and Jenni had a pretend steak and gravy pie from the Linda McCartney range. We
were seated before two and it took less than twenty minutes to eat. I slept
quite a bit afterwards though. Hotel Transylvania, a kids’ vampire cartoon, was
on telly for a couple of hours. I answered a few messages on Facebook but have reduced
my time spent on social media. This evening I made a list of titles I’d quite
like to buy from the Antiquated Future zine distro. It was quite long and would
be way too expensive at present. Especially airmail from America. Me and Jenni
watched Sticks and Stones on ITV player. A right proper set of bastards
bullying a bloke out of his office job. The programme didn’t give me much
enthusiasm for a return to conventional employment any time soon. Tomorrow I’ll
get back to my routine. The holiday is pretty much over. And these pages are
long. 11.35 pm.
Thursday 2nd January 2020
More admin. Big list of stuff
to get done before the next writing marathon on 11th January. Another person
requested a place. I got my tax return sorted this afternoon. Not too difficult
when you’ve earned fuck-all. I am in serious need of stable income. Don’t know
how far I can go just on workshops. I got all the Anomalies ‘Deluxe’ files copied
to memory sticks. Jenni had a preliminary session with the replacement desktop
PC. It has Windows 10 on it. My external hard drive back-up opens on it and all
the stuff from the PC I’m currently using is accessible. The replacement
probably won’t be set up until after the writing marathon. I counted
thirty-eight previous marathon notebooks from 2013 onwards. Surely enough
material for a full collection of poetry/prose. There’ll be lots of dross, but
I’ll ignore that. Tonight, I started on the prep for the next Waddington Street
Friday 3rd January 2020
Morning pages weren’t up to
much save a few brief dream images. And a list of files I need to transfer to
the new computer. I got up around half-nine and did some washing up. Decided to
make a poster for the writing marathon and came up with a pretty good one based
on the layout I did for Haltwhistle last year. Another person signed up and
lots of response to the poster. I took my DMs to the cobblers today. He said he
wasn’t pleased to see me. He knows I’m awkward and pedantic. He said the new
soles would take a month to arrive and prices will rise soon. I laughed at the
story of the vegan boots remaining uncollected when the customer happened to
ask on the phone what glue was used. This evening I scrolled through a load of
local jobs on Indeed but the only one that seemed remotely possible was Greggs
in Consett. Who on earth would employ me to prepare food? It takes me ages just
to do the marathon food. I’ll have to do more touting for business next week.
Jen is going back to Gateshead for a few days.
I will do more book prep over the weekend. 10.52 pm.
Saturday 4th January 2020
Awake at seven. Jen’s alarm
went off early as she needed to be up to get back to Gateshead
before a shift at the Tyne Theatre bar. “Bloody stupid place, this,” she said,
“having to be up FOUR hours before starting work.” – “Welcome to my world,” I laughed. Gigs, workshops, visiting Jen at her place – getting out of Moorside on
public transport can be a pain. Worse, though, is getting home
again: if it wasn’t for the kindness of Fergus at Waddy, my journey back from
Durham after nine o’clock of an evening would take two hours. It’s twenty
minutes in a car. Today has been a long day. I booked the first 2020 Poetry Jam
headliner. I copied up a load of stray diary entries from last year while
listening to Emilie Autumn’s ‘Opheliac’ album. Made two morning pages books.
Used pliers and a screwdriver to keep the George Foreman grill lid open
slightly whilst warming a cheap pizza. Afterwards I did oven wedges in it. This
evening I spent about four hours sifting through prompts – tweaking them and
looking for new ones. I need a few more tomorrow. And might change a few mid-week.
Been quite mild indoors today. But now it’s getting late and I’m a little bit
knackered. I’ve noticed these narrow lines on A5 are making me write more and
are changing the tone of the entries. Oh, well – we’ll see how it all edits
down come blog time. 11.17 pm.
Sunday 5th January 2020
Today has been a mixed bag.
After a big working day yesterday, I decided to let things slide this morning.
I read some of STAY FANATIC!!! by Henry Rollins till lunchtime. It’s easily his
best book for about a decade. I’m loving the record collector geekiness coupled
with great insights into his favourite bands’ careers, and anecdotes about
meeting / playing on bills with these musicians and spoken word performers.
After a chicken curry with grilled potato slices, I settled in with the writing
marathon prompts. I ditched some, selected more; edited the wording. After tea
I did about an hour – or the length of Billy Joel’s ‘Best Of’ album – on stray
2019 copy-ups. Then sent out Poetry Jam guest invites. All three got back
within an hour with affirmatives. I have February booked, possibly two thirds
of March and a great triple bill in one fell swoop for May. Read more Rollins
on Gun Club and Lou Reed. Great stuff. Productive day. 10.07 pm.
Monday 6th January 2020
Super productive. I’ve never
posted a Poetry Jam event page a month in advance before – until today. So
chuffed to have Jane Burn, Aidan Clarke and Natalie Crick to kick off the new series.
Also, I sold two more marathon places. Got more old stuff copied up. Got the
bank details for HMRC so I can pay National Insurance this week. Had an evening
on the couch reading essays from the Salt Publishing anthology ‘In Their Own
Words – Contemporary Poets on their Poetry’ edited by Helen Ivory and George
Szirtes. I read the late Matthew Sweeney on working in an Ashington School and
producing a Northumberland Icarus poem; Katrina Porteous on her epic BBC
soundscapes from the same part of the country. Luke Wright on killer couplets
originally inspired by Damon Alburn of Blur; Ross Sutherland on inviting the
audience to see how the poem was written through its performance; Tim Wells on
urban poetry, making copious notes on paper scraps and mobile phones – using
short lines to keep the energy tight in his verse; Anthony Dunn on not really
knowing what he’s doing; and Jay Bernard on the voice being the centre of
performance not the visuals – I can go with that: Joolz Denby reads from an A4
book or clip board but really rehearses her delivery… Jen sent me the best job
advert ever – for York Dungeon. But I can’t bike that far. It’s been a canny
day. OK. 10.47 pm.
Tuesday 7th January 2020
I need another journal/diary
besides this one. I need to write more essays. I will start another book with
journal prompts for memoir. And do more observational stuff. This morning was a
late start. I needed a lie in after the long day yesterday. I phoned Ernie to
say Happy Birthday then had breakfast. It was after eleven by then so I just
read STAY FANATIC!!! Vol 1 by Rollins till half-twelve. After lentil and bacon
soup I revised a lesson plan for next week’s Waddy session and printed out
masters for most of the handouts (the rest will be done on the day at the
Centre) then spent an hour watching YouTube vids about journal practice from
Matt Raghand, Clark Kegley, Andrew Kirby and Alexander de Luca. I’m not sure
about bullet journals, I just want to write stuff, but I’m keen to do reflective
pieces as well as daily movements. This evening I got the last of the gaps
filled in 2019 whilst listening to a compilation CDR that I made of favourite
SWANS tracks: 1) Miracle of Love. 2) In My Garden. 3) Fool. 4) Still A Child.
5) I Want To Be Your Dog. 6) I Remember Who You Are. 7) Beautiful Child. 8)
Love Will Save You. 9) Can’t Find My Way Home. 10) New Mind. 11) Blood On Your
Hands. 12) Jane Mary, Cry One Tear. 13) Love Will Tear Us Apart. 14) Money Is Flesh.
15) Eden
Wednesday 8th January 2020
I can feel the bristles on my
scalp again. It’s been nearly a week since the last shave. Today I’ll use a new
razor. I prefer the Wilkinson ones to any other. And I need a really good wash
as well. Then it’s a daysaver ticket and I’m out to buy the marathon food for
Saturday.
I don’t know when Jenni will
arrive. She said today at the earliest but might not get here till tomorrow. I
reckon I can get all the food in a few trips. If I get it all done by teatime,
I might get Helen Steadman’s copy of Anomalies Deluxe printed this evening. Or
run a full system back-up to the external hard drive so we can shift over to
the other computer tomorrow.
The food will get packed, the
sandwiches wrapped, on Friday night then I want to watch the BBC Documentary on
naturalist Chris Packham who says Punk Rock saved his life and informs every
major decision he makes to this day. He has been known to set himself the
challenge of inserting as many song titles from a chosen band as possible into
the narration of his programmes. I didn’t believe it, thought people were
joking, until I saw a video clip of highlights from a few years ago. I think
he’s done it with Cure song titles. Anyway, the programme is Punk Rock. Jenni
put a link to it on Facebook. Sheila Wakefield, the unstoppable force that is
Red Squirrel Press, thinks Packham is ace. So, I’m sure she’ll be watching…
I’m starting to amass quite a
bit of text already this year. The evening diary is a bit longer and it’s
changing the flow of the sentences. It will be interesting to see how the
entries edit down. I want to get stuff typed up before next Monday if that’s
possible.
I hope there are no problems
with the replacement computer. Hope the transfer of my email account works
okay. Jen seems to know everything about getting a system up and running. I can
switch a computer on, access Word and the internet and that’s just about it.
But it will be a big relief if I can have it up and running properly before my
50th Birthday.
I want to start on the
perzine-style books asap. Just getting material keyed in so I can see which bits
I want to use, how much space they will require when fully edited. I’d like to
go for a utilitarian, basic design that looks a bit like a logbook or a bit
like the early SWANS record covers – just symmetrical blocks of colour with
text trips here and there. And then just keep the inside neat with not too much
solid black or it will cost a fortune in toner cartridges to run off at home.
And Waddy would be rightfully pissed off if I started to use theirs for big
shaded panels.
I haven’t yet decided if I’m
going to call anything Unruly Eyebrow. I like it. And if I can come up with a
graphic for it, I will be well pleased. I don’t know whether to start a series
– like Jessie Lynn McMains with her Reckless Chants zines. Or just do mine as
individual titles – the Julia Eff approach.
It was rather reassuring to
find a load of journaling videos online from blokes last night. A lot of people
think self-reflective writing in diary format is the preserve of women; it may
be true in the art journal scene – although I have a great Journal Fodder book
edited by two male artists – but they seem to be very popular amongst men who
are achievers. I can’t remember the names but these twentysomething blokes –
American and British – all swear by it for work, play and mental health. I’m
going to watch more of them just to reinforce what I’ve been doing since the
nineties.
I’m slack at verbally
extolling the benefits of journaling but I’m going to spend some time on that
side of things in order to sell my skills to organisations. In the next few
weeks I want to approach more places with a view to running workshops.
The main thing I must keep
reminding myself is that a lot of people lack willpower. They say they are
going to do something then find an excuse to postpone, slacken on their
constraints or just fucking bail altogether. I remember being told at nineteen
that I possess unusually strong willpower. But at the time, I was merely giving
things up – that’s easy. Taking things onboard is a lot harder. Anyway, I’ve
managed to keep my margins decent this morning. So the word count will be
higher. Nice one. 8.19 am.
Today I made three trips into
town. I got all the food for Saturday’s writing marathon except a couple of
vegan options and chocolates for the prompts. Tonight, I did the big group
Facebook message to participants.
A family crisis took up the
rest of my page this evening. I edited it out – just like I edit huge chunks of
family life out of my books and conversations. I am perfectly willing to tear
strips off myself in public but other people’s private lives are off-limits.
11.12 pm.
Thursday 9th January 2020
I
don’t really know where today has gone. But I’m pleased the psychosomatic
sniffle that came on around bedtime last night hasn’t developed into anything
really worrying. I haven’t been far today. Just up and down the stairs, trying
to remember where I put the braincells that must’ve fallen out when I wasn’t
thinking. Anyway, I got a new little system sorted for the book-building, so I
know exactly how many coloured sheets I need per hardback and what order each
little colour sequence goes in. I didn’t pull any stock out of the back room this
evening. I’m taking it easy. Been checking out some small press stuff. Postage
from America is outrageous, but even here in the UK postage it’s quite a sting.
I had to eat my steak pie this evening coz it reached the use-by date. Jenni is
coming over tomorrow. I will be out again to buy a few things. There might be
some printing taking place. Or maybe a hard-drive backup. I would like to read
before bedtime, but I need a toasted cheese sandwich. The house was a lot
chillier today. No phone calls from Mam and Ernie. I am keen to get things
moving – some gigs, submissions and workshops. Keen to get back in the game.
11.08 pm.
Friday 10th January 2020
Okay, bit of a stressful day.
Don’t know why, just tired. Don’t seem to be getting much done. Despite time
and energy spent. I got a few things sorted for a web interview. And I got the
last of the food for the writing marathon this morning. Had to take time out
this afternoon coz my head was throbbing. I put some comments on Facebook posts.
I ordered Thomas Stewart’s pamphlet “Empire of Dirt” from Red Squirrel Press. I
was struck by the title, which I know as a phrase from a Nine Inch Nails song.
I’m a bit wrecked. Jenni got here about half-seven. We chatted for a bit then
cracked on making sandwiches for tomorrow. I may have overdone it in the meat department.
Around ten o’clock this evening I did the Krypton Factor wheelie case pack. We have all the sandwiches and other savouries in the fridge till tomorrow. The wind
is picking up and the forecast is for heavy rain. We should be okay
though; we’ll be getting the bus up to Consett then down to The Lodge in the
park. I am keen to get to bed. I’ve done about twenty hours on the marathon since
last weekend. I don’t want to be frazzled before we start tomorrow. I don’t even
have time to get shaved this evening. We had the heating on to help defrost
stuff earlier. Now I’m out of energy. Hot chocolate then bed. Really knackered.
11.16 pm.
Saturday 11th January 2020
Today was good. Woke well before
six. Did morning pages and up by half-past. Washed, shaved and ready by half-seven.
Jen got up fifteen minutes later. Did some packing from the fridge. Got the quarter
to nine Consett bus. The driver looked at my wheelie case and asked if we were
going on holiday. No, I said. Work. It’s food. – Bloody hell, mate, that’s some
shift. – No, I laughed, it’s a buffet for twelve. – Oh well… We hit town by nine
then had a bit of a wait. The weather wasn’t too bad. Very windy, but dry. Got to
the venue by quarter past nine. Took ninety minutes to set up. Couldn’t have
done it without Jen to do reception, serve teas and coffees while I set the
table. Full turn out, no latecomers. Briefing went okay. Only glitch today was
high wind setting off the alarm at twenty to twelve. We had to vacate for a few
minutes. But we got through fifteen rounds of writing and read backs. Everyone said
they enjoyed it, gave feedback. We waited a while for the bus but were back home
just after half-four. Quite a bit of food left over to keep me and Jenni going over
the weekend. Not sure how much of my own writing is usable from today. Always
takes me a while to settle into a writing marathon after all the prep, but
others were good. Tonight, me and Jenni crashed on the couch, watched some
awful masked singer nonsense on TV then The Voice. More buffet food and hot chocolate.
11.16 pm.
Sunday 12th January 2020
Slow day. Waiting for the
snail’s pace ten-year-old computer to boot up. Waiting ages for the writing
marathon pix to upload to Facebook. Waiting four hours to fully back up fifteen
years of files to an external hard drive. Jenni has been at the computer all evening
trying to move old emails to the new system, but Outlook Express is now
obsolete and it costs money for software to switch files to a compatible format
for Windows 10. The rest of the computer is still to sort out. I haven’t a clue
how to navigate my way around anything beyond XP. And Jenni needs to be asleep soon
so she can get up for a job interview. I won’t be able to use the computer unless I see how the new stuff works. I fucking hate all the updated shit. I
liked XP and had it put on a brand-new computer ten years ago rather than get
to grips with Windows 7 or 8. I’ve used them in libraries and at Waddy but hated
doing so. Basically, I want a glorified old-school word processor – correctable
typewriter – with internet. Anyway, I tried to read a twenty-five-year-old issue
of The Wide Skirt poetry magazine downstairs while Jen worked on the upgrades
but I’m too agitated to concentrate. I fucking hate having to upgrade anything.
Just fuck-off and let things be – invent an affordable easy cure for cancer instead
of tinkering all the time just to bleed more money out of people. Fuck smart
phones and all the bullshit. I just want to get on with my work. 9.42 pm.
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