Finally got a bike ride. A nice tailwind made for a fairly swift climb to Parkhead Station first thing this morning. Then I sped back down in a high gear. Felt good. T-shirt, shorts, no backpack. The rest of the day has been devoted to the Waddington Street Writers’ anthology. Corrections are marked up. I still have page margins to fix. It should all be pretty good to print by Saturday. Then I’ll need a couple of days next week to assemble and trim. I should prep the next Washington workshop soon so I can devote the rest of my time to pulling stuff together for Waddy. I've eaten a fair amount of roast chicken today. I feel a bit knackered now. I hope to get all the work done. It takes so long to pull things together. OK. 10.59pm.
Thursday 2nd July 2026
Another long day. I keep waking up super early. I printed and assembled a few copies of my July 2023 pamphlet 'Soon Will Come Thunder'. They just need the covers inking up. I did some copy-ups. Then put in a couple of hours on the Waddy anthology. It's almost good to go now. But a few tweaks will now revert to the previous state due to a writer’s change of mind. I'm still waiting on a word edit. The three o'clock bus didn't run today. It came through Moorside and went to Castleside but didn't return. I got to Waddy at quarter to five. Set up for the Poetry Jam and had a great turnout. All the guests were on top form: Mel Chilekwa, James Oates and Kirsten Luckins. Identity pieces, poems of place, lost companions, a lot of bird and plant poems. Great open floor people as well. I read 'Dear Kryptonics Denny Reardon Skateboard' and 'Neglected'. Took me an hour to clear up after the event. There is a window open on the last bus, so I've got my hood up. 11.19pm.
Another long day. I keep waking up super early. I printed and assembled a few copies of my July 2023 pamphlet 'Soon Will Come Thunder'. They just need the covers inking up. I did some copy-ups. Then put in a couple of hours on the Waddy anthology. It's almost good to go now. But a few tweaks will now revert to the previous state due to a writer’s change of mind. I'm still waiting on a word edit. The three o'clock bus didn't run today. It came through Moorside and went to Castleside but didn't return. I got to Waddy at quarter to five. Set up for the Poetry Jam and had a great turnout. All the guests were on top form: Mel Chilekwa, James Oates and Kirsten Luckins. Identity pieces, poems of place, lost companions, a lot of bird and plant poems. Great open floor people as well. I read 'Dear Kryptonics Denny Reardon Skateboard' and 'Neglected'. Took me an hour to clear up after the event. There is a window open on the last bus, so I've got my hood up. 11.19pm.
Friday 3rd July 2026
Chuffed to be almost there with the Waddy anthology. Awaiting confirmation on changes to one poem. This afternoon I proofed more of my own stuff then made a little promo poster for The Cooking Pot at Baba Yaga’s of Whitley Bay, at which I’m doing a headline set this coming Monday. Mostly older stuff. I'll be reading some prose pieces from 'Soon Will Come Thunder'. I don't really like much dance music, but the new Madonna album ‘Confessions Vol 2’ has a bunch of good tracks on it. I've seen Madge three times: Blonde Ambition 1990, The Girlie Show 1993, and Drowned World 2001. Then I drifted a bit. I needed time off this evening. OK. 11.51pm.
Chuffed to be almost there with the Waddy anthology. Awaiting confirmation on changes to one poem. This afternoon I proofed more of my own stuff then made a little promo poster for The Cooking Pot at Baba Yaga’s of Whitley Bay, at which I’m doing a headline set this coming Monday. Mostly older stuff. I'll be reading some prose pieces from 'Soon Will Come Thunder'. I don't really like much dance music, but the new Madonna album ‘Confessions Vol 2’ has a bunch of good tracks on it. I've seen Madge three times: Blonde Ambition 1990, The Girlie Show 1993, and Drowned World 2001. Then I drifted a bit. I needed time off this evening. OK. 11.51pm.
Saturday 4th July 2026
Sat at home all day waiting for info to finalise the anthology but didn't get it. Now I'll have to wait till Monday. I tried to rehearse tonight, but I'm so fucking annoyed and absolutely knackered, I just can't do much. Tried reading but couldn't. I managed to get some exercises sorted for the next two writing workshops. This year is flying by, and I've done very little biking. Fucked! 11.13pm.
Sat at home all day waiting for info to finalise the anthology but didn't get it. Now I'll have to wait till Monday. I tried to rehearse tonight, but I'm so fucking annoyed and absolutely knackered, I just can't do much. Tried reading but couldn't. I managed to get some exercises sorted for the next two writing workshops. This year is flying by, and I've done very little biking. Fucked! 11.13pm.
Sunday 5th July 2026
I wanted to bike this afternoon but didn't dare risk anything happening that might prevent assembling and trimming of books mid-week. I only managed one rehearsal today for tomorrow's Cooking Pot gig. I've eaten tuna, baked beans and baked potato for three days in a row. Haven't been out since Thursday. 10.02pm.
Monday 6th July 2026
Received clarification at eight o'clock this morning of the correct version of a poem to include in the anthology. Got colour covers printed. Made up a test version. It's pretty much there. Just a couple of page numbers to centre and a margin to tweak. I was in Newcastle this afternoon buying assorted coloured Canson for endpapers. Then I went to Jen's place. Ate chicken. We reached Whitley Bay in good time for Baba Yaga's opening at seven o'clock. My set went down well. I enjoyed reading music-related material. People were very generous. Sold some books as well. Christine Fowler read. Jenni, Steve Lancaster, Penny Blackburn, Jen Wilson, Andrew Mears - lots of people. It was a good night. OK. 11.38pm.
I wanted to bike this afternoon but didn't dare risk anything happening that might prevent assembling and trimming of books mid-week. I only managed one rehearsal today for tomorrow's Cooking Pot gig. I've eaten tuna, baked beans and baked potato for three days in a row. Haven't been out since Thursday. 10.02pm.
Monday 6th July 2026
Received clarification at eight o'clock this morning of the correct version of a poem to include in the anthology. Got colour covers printed. Made up a test version. It's pretty much there. Just a couple of page numbers to centre and a margin to tweak. I was in Newcastle this afternoon buying assorted coloured Canson for endpapers. Then I went to Jen's place. Ate chicken. We reached Whitley Bay in good time for Baba Yaga's opening at seven o'clock. My set went down well. I enjoyed reading music-related material. People were very generous. Sold some books as well. Christine Fowler read. Jenni, Steve Lancaster, Penny Blackburn, Jen Wilson, Andrew Mears - lots of people. It was a good night. OK. 11.38pm.
Tuesday 7th July 2026
Thankfully, we have the Waddy anthology printed. I will assemble and trim tomorrow, and on Thursday if necessary. The contributors, bar one, have seen an advance copy and are chuffed with it. The pamphlet will have assorted colour Canson endpapers and a great piece of art on the wraparound cover. I'm chuffed with how the layout has finally come together. This evening, I have been trying to choose favourite poets, comedians and lyricists to mention on the Poetical Outlaws podcast, which will be recorded next Monday. I admire loads of writers and speakers, but I don't seem to be able to pinpoint any living figures as definitive favourites. I've watched a fair few Simon Armitage clips this evening. He knows his stuff. My brain doesn't work well enough. OK. 10.11pm.
Thankfully, we have the Waddy anthology printed. I will assemble and trim tomorrow, and on Thursday if necessary. The contributors, bar one, have seen an advance copy and are chuffed with it. The pamphlet will have assorted colour Canson endpapers and a great piece of art on the wraparound cover. I'm chuffed with how the layout has finally come together. This evening, I have been trying to choose favourite poets, comedians and lyricists to mention on the Poetical Outlaws podcast, which will be recorded next Monday. I admire loads of writers and speakers, but I don't seem to be able to pinpoint any living figures as definitive favourites. I've watched a fair few Simon Armitage clips this evening. He knows his stuff. My brain doesn't work well enough. OK. 10.11pm.
Wednesday 8th July 2026
I should be feeling triumphant. Another little booklet project in the can. I decided to look at it again this evening. The penultimate file that was printed as a test copy had all the correct changes on it, so why wasn't that one used for the actual print run? I did everything I could to produce a top-notch publication for the Waddy Writers. Unfortunately, a slip-up means one of the writers is probably going to be really annoyed on launch day. The file on my stick was the correct file, which I sent to the office to get printed because technical support wouldn't be available by the time I arrived later that morning. The file printed from the office was correct and verified by a senior member of staff. The file used to make final margin and page number tweaks that was used for the full print run contained changes one writer no longer wanted. Fuck! 11.55pm.
I should be feeling triumphant. Another little booklet project in the can. I decided to look at it again this evening. The penultimate file that was printed as a test copy had all the correct changes on it, so why wasn't that one used for the actual print run? I did everything I could to produce a top-notch publication for the Waddy Writers. Unfortunately, a slip-up means one of the writers is probably going to be really annoyed on launch day. The file on my stick was the correct file, which I sent to the office to get printed because technical support wouldn't be available by the time I arrived later that morning. The file printed from the office was correct and verified by a senior member of staff. The file used to make final margin and page number tweaks that was used for the full print run contained changes one writer no longer wanted. Fuck! 11.55pm.
Thursday 9th July 2026
Awful day. Up till quarter to four this morning, drafting a letter to Waddy about using the wrong file to print the anthology. It might be alright if one of the writers decides their changes were for the best after all. This, however, has not helped me feel anything but failure and rage. I spent weeks getting the MS just right, and a momentary lapse has caused it to be less than it should be. It took me about three hours to prepare a workshop for tomorrow, which required only two handouts and a few paste-ups in my notebook. Another day of waiting. Hope the anthology proves to be okay. 10.35pm.
Awful day. Up till quarter to four this morning, drafting a letter to Waddy about using the wrong file to print the anthology. It might be alright if one of the writers decides their changes were for the best after all. This, however, has not helped me feel anything but failure and rage. I spent weeks getting the MS just right, and a momentary lapse has caused it to be less than it should be. It took me about three hours to prepare a workshop for tomorrow, which required only two handouts and a few paste-ups in my notebook. Another day of waiting. Hope the anthology proves to be okay. 10.35pm.
Friday 10th July 2026
Awake at ten to five, or thereabouts. Knocked out another set of brutal morning pages. Up about seven and still managed to spread my breakfast and personal hygiene out until quarter past eight. I got to the Arts Centre by eleven. The workshop took about five minutes to set up. It worked well: Finish the sentence, Free write, Six-sentence paragraph, Tiny Tales into Four-paragraph Flash Fiction, Theoretical Essay, Objects and Lies, and Resistentialism Vignettes. Good one. Thanks to Nicola Spain for the card and end-of-sessions box of chocolates. Thanks to Alwyn, who was sympathetic to my gripes, for the lift to Gateshead. The bus from Metro Centre to Consett was super slow and hellishly hot. Big grilled steak and cheese sandwiches for tea. No word from Waddy, so I don't know if the anthology was well-received. Too hot to do much. Slept a lot this evening. 10.27pm.
Awake at ten to five, or thereabouts. Knocked out another set of brutal morning pages. Up about seven and still managed to spread my breakfast and personal hygiene out until quarter past eight. I got to the Arts Centre by eleven. The workshop took about five minutes to set up. It worked well: Finish the sentence, Free write, Six-sentence paragraph, Tiny Tales into Four-paragraph Flash Fiction, Theoretical Essay, Objects and Lies, and Resistentialism Vignettes. Good one. Thanks to Nicola Spain for the card and end-of-sessions box of chocolates. Thanks to Alwyn, who was sympathetic to my gripes, for the lift to Gateshead. The bus from Metro Centre to Consett was super slow and hellishly hot. Big grilled steak and cheese sandwiches for tea. No word from Waddy, so I don't know if the anthology was well-received. Too hot to do much. Slept a lot this evening. 10.27pm.
Saturday 11th July 2026
Up at five. More scribbles about the Waddy book. Received an email saying it was fine and yesterday's readings went well. I got out on the bike after dinner. Terrible ride. Only improving near the end on the way home. I did some housework and had a big baked potato with beans and tuna. Bag-pack then off to Jen's. Football on TV. OK. 10.26pm.
Sunday 12th July 2026
Slow day. Took until lunchtime to muster up the energy to go buy food. Then I started getting too warm. I've slept a lot. Jenni and I pulled together blurb info for a double-header gig we are doing. Details to be confirmed. I ate a pie that was all pastry and no steak. Consequently, Jenni wangled me a £5 complimentary voucher from the supermarket. This evening I've mostly been too hot. I really need to be asleep soon. 11.12pm.
Monday 13th July 2026
Spent a couple of hours in Sunderland to record a piece for Poetical Outlaws podcast with Gary the Hat at his seafront flat. Then a nice veggie curry in Newcastle with Jenni, her mam Hilary, and John. Big thanks to Ms Lydia Lunch for signing three books for me at The Lubber Fiend venue in Newcastle this evening after her forty-five-minute set with Mark Hurtado. The music, all keyboard-generated, was pretty intense. I was amazed that Lydia sat at the merch table straight afterwards, the same table that was bare when I was there an hour earlier. I'd have preferred to hear songs by her band Big Sexy Noise rather than a full set of Suicide covers - but hey, maybe next time. I asked if it would be possible to get a photo with her. "Come back in five minutes," she said. I waited until the merch queue came to an end. "Come on then," Lydia said. "Sit down next to me." I did as I was told. Sebastian, the merch guy, took the photo. Lydia said she was initially concerned about ticket sales, but the gig turned out okay. "Thanks for coming back to Newcastle," I said, mega chuffed. Then I got a Metro to Gateshead and talked to Jen at the Microbus pub, met her friends, then walked back to Bensham. Workshop at Waddy tomorrow. OK. 11.34pm.
Up at five. More scribbles about the Waddy book. Received an email saying it was fine and yesterday's readings went well. I got out on the bike after dinner. Terrible ride. Only improving near the end on the way home. I did some housework and had a big baked potato with beans and tuna. Bag-pack then off to Jen's. Football on TV. OK. 10.26pm.
Sunday 12th July 2026
Slow day. Took until lunchtime to muster up the energy to go buy food. Then I started getting too warm. I've slept a lot. Jenni and I pulled together blurb info for a double-header gig we are doing. Details to be confirmed. I ate a pie that was all pastry and no steak. Consequently, Jenni wangled me a £5 complimentary voucher from the supermarket. This evening I've mostly been too hot. I really need to be asleep soon. 11.12pm.
Monday 13th July 2026
Spent a couple of hours in Sunderland to record a piece for Poetical Outlaws podcast with Gary the Hat at his seafront flat. Then a nice veggie curry in Newcastle with Jenni, her mam Hilary, and John. Big thanks to Ms Lydia Lunch for signing three books for me at The Lubber Fiend venue in Newcastle this evening after her forty-five-minute set with Mark Hurtado. The music, all keyboard-generated, was pretty intense. I was amazed that Lydia sat at the merch table straight afterwards, the same table that was bare when I was there an hour earlier. I'd have preferred to hear songs by her band Big Sexy Noise rather than a full set of Suicide covers - but hey, maybe next time. I asked if it would be possible to get a photo with her. "Come back in five minutes," she said. I waited until the merch queue came to an end. "Come on then," Lydia said. "Sit down next to me." I did as I was told. Sebastian, the merch guy, took the photo. Lydia said she was initially concerned about ticket sales, but the gig turned out okay. "Thanks for coming back to Newcastle," I said, mega chuffed. Then I got a Metro to Gateshead and talked to Jen at the Microbus pub, met her friends, then walked back to Bensham. Workshop at Waddy tomorrow. OK. 11.34pm.
Tuesday 14th July 2026
Too exhausted for a workshop this afternoon but made the effort. Twelve out of the initial thirty copies of the Waddy anthology remain – and one of the contributors hasn't received his yet. I fell asleep on the bus home. Have read a bit of the new Lydia Lunch pocketbook that she signed last night. But other than that, all I've done is doom scroll, then record three audio clips as backup tracks for the Poetical Outlaws podcast. Oh, and I finally got around to putting baking soda on the kitchen carpet, so hopefully it will lift some smells out of it. I'll hoover up in the morning. I might read in bed, but I might not. I still have a ton of editing to do this summer. Some days, I just want to jack all this writing lark in. But people are kind and keep me going. OK. 11.10pm.
Wednesday 15th July 2026
I meant to make a new morning pages notebook but forgot. I went to Whitley Bay for the launch of Kay Wilson's new novel, ‘The Allotment Sisterhood’ at 'the bound' bookshop (which I was surprised to find is run by Helen Young, who I haven't seen in over forty years; she grew up in Bridgehill, a few streets away from me, over the road from Andrew Earnshaw). Vic Watson interviewed Kay, who was very entertaining and gave great insights into her characters, her process and the challenges she faced in bringing the book to publication. And she had a fantastic turnout. Very well done. Kay very kindly signed a copy of the novel for me and entrusted me with two more for Washington Writers. The journey home took three hours, door to door. I had a cheese sandwich and some nuts. I have lots of books to read. OK. 11.44pm.
Thursday 16th July 2026
I've tried to work all day but kept falling asleep. Probably the first month in ages that I've not got Poetry Jam event info out on the Thursday two weeks before the gig. I will do it tomorrow. All I managed today was a new morning pages notebook and a week of catch-up notes. I think I'm ready for a month off. Years ago, I never did any real work from the end of the summer term to the start of autumn. I read for pleasure, rode bikes, watched videos and listened to music – recharged the batteries. I've done at least one workshop every week this year since mid-January. I used to do four or five a week per term. It would kill me now. I've read a bit of "Lydia Lunch: The War Is Never Over", have listened to "Staircase" and "Try Me" by Beirut Slump. OK. 10.41pm.
Friday 17th July 2026
Poetry Jam publicity is done. I've made up a preliminary test copy of Christine Fowler's pamphlet; there’s quite a bit of reformatting work to do on it. I went out on my Sonder bike tonight. Only about ninety minutes. I didn't ride well. I've strained my left shoulder again. Compared to this time last year, I am not fit. And due to being away a lot lately, I've slipped up with physio. Tonight, I listened to a Marco Pirroni podcast. Former guitarist for Adam Ant, Marco toured with Sinead O'Connor in 1990. I saw him four times that year. He says he doesn't like playing live these days. His memoir, "Your Money or Your Life", is due this September and is mostly about punk and Antmusic. I read an online interview which didn't paint Marco in a good light. I'm tired a lot of the time. I'm done for the week. No book work till Monday. OK. 11.40pm.
Saturday 18th July 2026
Bit of a lie-in. Then removed all the brambles growing onto the path by the back door. I was in Newcastle this afternoon for more Canson endpapers. Jenni and I watched Speak No Evil, starring James McElvoy, a really good dark thriller. Then two episodes of Ann Droid starring Sue Johnston and Diane Morgan. OK. 11.05pm.
Sunday 19th July 2026
Disappointed with how little I've achieved this year, given how quickly the months are flying by. Another shoulder strain and lower back pain make biking off-road seem pointless. I haven't done any recent sequencing of poems for the new book. I've eaten a lot of crisps and chocolate today. Watched a few true crime documentaries on TV and a retro Coustellier St Blaize trials bike review on YouTube. OK. 10.57pm.
Monday 20th July 2026
Not very productive. I was up late last night. Didn't finish morning pages till ten o'clock. After a tuna crunch sandwich, I left Jen's around quarter to one for the X70 to Consett. I bought another pack of photographic card for booklet covers, some shortbread biscuits and Warburtons thins. Back home, I washed shorts and a T-shirt in the kitchen sink, prepped a load of exercises for the next few Waddy workshops. Then more tuna – this time with a big baked potato and salad. I fell asleep for an hour then read about seventy pages of "A Dance With Ghosts" by Kevin Brooks. Very easy prose. Able to retain enough to follow the story without having to backtrack too much. I've done a bit of notebook catch-up, but not much real work. I wanted to bike tonight but was too tired, and I thought the shoulder needs more rest. I'm way behind on editing. I'll do some on Wednesday and Thursday. Hope to get started on my Red Squirrel Press book soon. 10.28pm.
Tuesday 21st July 2026
Today was okay. But only one person was in the writing session with me at Waddington Street Centre this afternoon. We did: What Matters?, Triolet, Journal Prompts and Golden Shovels. I got a Thank-You from the operations manager for the Waddy anthology. I went to Chester-le-Street after the session. Boyes had the pale blue Easy Note A6 slim notebooks I've been using for Gratitude Journal for the last fourteen years. The four I've just bought should last me till January 2030. I've no idea what situation I'll be in by then, financially or creatively. I finished reading "A Dance With Ghosts" by Kevin Brooks around twenty to midnight. I always think of novels as TV drama in words on paper instead of voices and moving images onscreen. Neither better nor worse. OK. 11.45pm.
Wednesday 22nd July 2026
Sometimes I wonder if I want to keep writing. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I just stopped. I won't, of course, coz it's what keeps me going, and that's the only thing I can do that could be deemed work. Even though a lot of people see it as folly, I see it as a necessary tool to keep my head together. Today I went out on my twenty-year-old Rockhopper bike. I rode through Castleside, then Muggleswick woods, then up to Parkhead Station by road, down to Edmundbyers then a lap of the Derwent Reservoir, up onto the A68, down past Allensford and up to Castleside, then home – about four hours. It's the longest ride I've done this year. There won't be any multiple-day rides like the C2C, which I did last year. Once was enough. Next ride will be on riverside trails on the Sonder adventure bike. Hot upstairs. OK. 10.30pm.
Thursday 23rd July 2026
Pretty bad aches and pains in wrists and crook of left arm. Four hours on a bike yesterday was too much for my pathetic body after very little warm-up this year. Today I keyed in notes, watched some BBC website writing stuff: "Don't talk about your ideas, don't buy more books, don't go on courses, just get the damn thing written." – which was summed up very concisely on the title track of the very first Rollins Band album I ever heard, a cover version of a Pink Fairies song called DO IT. So what the fuck has the last 37 years been all about? I sifted through some of my recent drafts from the workshops. I'm being brutal about what to copy out afresh and what to reject. If I live to be a hundred, I'm not going to use everything. I have more than enough material waiting already... It was good to see Pip McDonald and Gary Robertson in conversation on the Poetical Outlaws podcast today. The next one will feature Aaron Wright. OK. 10.27pm.
Friday 24th July 2026
I listened to Pip MacDonald on the Poetical Outlaws podcast last night. Gary filmed it with three cameras. It looked great. Pip talked about her influences, including a poet that she met via Zoom during lockdown, and early beginnings listening to prog rock with her dad. Pip’s first writings were song lyrics in her teens. She cited Joyce Grenfell and Victoria Wood as comedy influences. Just Think Phil is one of her favourite living poets. And she really bigged up the city of Sunderland.
Gary and Pip chattered about their experiences at Durham University whilst studying philosophy.
I don't think the next episodes were filmed with multiple camera angles. I don't remember there being more than one when I was there a couple of weeks ago.
Today I will facilitate my final Arts Centre Washington writing workshop of the current block. It's basically just a bit of an easy-going 'play with some previous forms and prompts' type of day.
I don’t know what to wear. It's supposed to be sixteen degrees by nine o'clock, a little warmer by mid-afternoon. There's a mix of grey and blue up above at present, indoors and out.
I came down to that fucking stale odour again this morning. I got down on my hands and knees and sniffed the kitchen carpet - it smelled okay. I think it must be the sink. It never gets enough hot water down it. I will buy more baking soda and use white vinegar as well. Also, I'll spend the day decluttering everything. I need to spend about a week tidying up downstairs. I have a feeling I'll be trashing a lot of recent spare workshop handouts. I just don't have the space for them. I went through a couple of recent workshop notebooks last night. There are quite a few pieces that I want to copy up. And there are some journaling excerpts from sessions I'd like to get into a desktop notebook as well. It's a lot of work just to get on top of the recent output. I have no idea how to go about using any of it.
I caught a little BBC writers clip on Facebook yesterday. Lisa Holdsworth: "Forget about buying more books, stop going to courses, just get the damn thing written. It should be awful in the first draft. It's meant to be. But then you go back and get it as good as you can - that's when the magic happens."
And I kind of agree. But not wishing to bite the hand that feeds any more than I already have done in recent days, I feel I've written some pretty good performance pieces in workshops, my own and others. I should be submitting to magazines, but I'm not enamoured by many that I've seen in recent years, and I've already bought loads of stuff to read. I want to spend more time at home getting stuff edited, not doing yet more first drafts. In the next couple of years, hopefully, I'll be consolidating my scraps and vignettes and getting better drafts into shape and finding ways to make bigger and better books. Having said all that, I've just ordered a 40th Anniversary copy of “Human Geography” – Simon Armitage's debut pamphlet. I can't remember if it was originally published by Smith Doorstop or the Wide Skirt Press, but it's now reproduced in a lavish signed version from Faber and Faber. I got a notification from the Royal Mail saying it will be arriving on Saturday between 9.15am and 11.15am, so it's just as well I'll be home tomorrow morning.
I'm going to For Better or Verse at Blackhill Club this evening. I wanted to go just to be a listener, but I might read a thing or two on open mic. I'd really like to try out Tickle a Brick, which was written about my days in the warehouse just before we were all made redundant. But a lot of it is about language, pronunciation and accent. I'd struggle at present, I think, to do it justice. It's one of those pieces that could benefit from Apples and Snakes coaching, like we got about thirteen years ago from Kirsten Luckins at Scratch Tyne and Tees clubs. Usually, though, I just let the emotion of the piece come through my projection, and I don't really choreograph my movement or gestures. I mainly animate my words with my natural (some say unnatural) energy. And I don't codify what I do; I don't have a performance vocabulary, despite spending over a year around budding young theatre practitioners a couple of decades ago.
I can’t remember all the stuff I've prepped for the session today. But all I really need to do is check my notebook from Tuesday. I’ll do another lucky dip. Serendipity gave a good structure to the session on Tuesday. Pity there were just two of us in the room. I'm expecting about half a dozen today. But we're getting into the holiday season now, so it's wise to take a break for the next six weeks and come back fighting fit in September with new material.
And speaking of new material, I hope I've got a decent set of clothes left for today. At some point, I'll have to trouble Jen to wash some trousers for autumn engagements, few as they are. What will I read at Blackhill this evening? I aim to rework my Leonard Cohen ~2 poem. The quote used on Tuesday about poetry being ash wasn't 100% accurate so my golden shovel requires some rewrites. A real golden shovel would be good for moving quite a bit of ash. Anyway, time for breakfast. OK. 7.10am.
Because the 78 Sunderland bus from Consett reached Chester-le-Street five minutes earlier than the 8 Sunderland bus from Stanley, I was able to alight from the former and board the latter to reach Arts Centre Washington for my fortnightly workshop half an hour earlier than usual. I did five lucky dips from a pile of sixteen exercises to determine the running order of activities for the group's final session of the current block, and it worked well: Take Three Nouns, Tricubes, Written in the Style of Yellow, My Box and Newspaper Headline Monologue. Big thanks to all who attended so far this year. Big thanks to Alwyn Bathan for a tin of chocolates and a lift to Gateshead. I was out tonight at For Better or Verse in Blackhill. It was great. Shamie Khan performed quite a bit from memory, and Cat Bell was sensational. Some ace open floor poems as well. Gary the Hat's Philosophy, Kevin Robson's Shoplifter, Tony Gadd's Pink Slice, and host Steve Wood's Inappropriate Songs on Hospital Radio. Great turns all round. Good to walk there and back and to try out a couple of new pieces of my own. OK. 11.50pm.
Too exhausted for a workshop this afternoon but made the effort. Twelve out of the initial thirty copies of the Waddy anthology remain – and one of the contributors hasn't received his yet. I fell asleep on the bus home. Have read a bit of the new Lydia Lunch pocketbook that she signed last night. But other than that, all I've done is doom scroll, then record three audio clips as backup tracks for the Poetical Outlaws podcast. Oh, and I finally got around to putting baking soda on the kitchen carpet, so hopefully it will lift some smells out of it. I'll hoover up in the morning. I might read in bed, but I might not. I still have a ton of editing to do this summer. Some days, I just want to jack all this writing lark in. But people are kind and keep me going. OK. 11.10pm.
Wednesday 15th July 2026
I meant to make a new morning pages notebook but forgot. I went to Whitley Bay for the launch of Kay Wilson's new novel, ‘The Allotment Sisterhood’ at 'the bound' bookshop (which I was surprised to find is run by Helen Young, who I haven't seen in over forty years; she grew up in Bridgehill, a few streets away from me, over the road from Andrew Earnshaw). Vic Watson interviewed Kay, who was very entertaining and gave great insights into her characters, her process and the challenges she faced in bringing the book to publication. And she had a fantastic turnout. Very well done. Kay very kindly signed a copy of the novel for me and entrusted me with two more for Washington Writers. The journey home took three hours, door to door. I had a cheese sandwich and some nuts. I have lots of books to read. OK. 11.44pm.
Thursday 16th July 2026
I've tried to work all day but kept falling asleep. Probably the first month in ages that I've not got Poetry Jam event info out on the Thursday two weeks before the gig. I will do it tomorrow. All I managed today was a new morning pages notebook and a week of catch-up notes. I think I'm ready for a month off. Years ago, I never did any real work from the end of the summer term to the start of autumn. I read for pleasure, rode bikes, watched videos and listened to music – recharged the batteries. I've done at least one workshop every week this year since mid-January. I used to do four or five a week per term. It would kill me now. I've read a bit of "Lydia Lunch: The War Is Never Over", have listened to "Staircase" and "Try Me" by Beirut Slump. OK. 10.41pm.
Friday 17th July 2026
Poetry Jam publicity is done. I've made up a preliminary test copy of Christine Fowler's pamphlet; there’s quite a bit of reformatting work to do on it. I went out on my Sonder bike tonight. Only about ninety minutes. I didn't ride well. I've strained my left shoulder again. Compared to this time last year, I am not fit. And due to being away a lot lately, I've slipped up with physio. Tonight, I listened to a Marco Pirroni podcast. Former guitarist for Adam Ant, Marco toured with Sinead O'Connor in 1990. I saw him four times that year. He says he doesn't like playing live these days. His memoir, "Your Money or Your Life", is due this September and is mostly about punk and Antmusic. I read an online interview which didn't paint Marco in a good light. I'm tired a lot of the time. I'm done for the week. No book work till Monday. OK. 11.40pm.
Saturday 18th July 2026
Bit of a lie-in. Then removed all the brambles growing onto the path by the back door. I was in Newcastle this afternoon for more Canson endpapers. Jenni and I watched Speak No Evil, starring James McElvoy, a really good dark thriller. Then two episodes of Ann Droid starring Sue Johnston and Diane Morgan. OK. 11.05pm.
Sunday 19th July 2026
Disappointed with how little I've achieved this year, given how quickly the months are flying by. Another shoulder strain and lower back pain make biking off-road seem pointless. I haven't done any recent sequencing of poems for the new book. I've eaten a lot of crisps and chocolate today. Watched a few true crime documentaries on TV and a retro Coustellier St Blaize trials bike review on YouTube. OK. 10.57pm.
Monday 20th July 2026
Not very productive. I was up late last night. Didn't finish morning pages till ten o'clock. After a tuna crunch sandwich, I left Jen's around quarter to one for the X70 to Consett. I bought another pack of photographic card for booklet covers, some shortbread biscuits and Warburtons thins. Back home, I washed shorts and a T-shirt in the kitchen sink, prepped a load of exercises for the next few Waddy workshops. Then more tuna – this time with a big baked potato and salad. I fell asleep for an hour then read about seventy pages of "A Dance With Ghosts" by Kevin Brooks. Very easy prose. Able to retain enough to follow the story without having to backtrack too much. I've done a bit of notebook catch-up, but not much real work. I wanted to bike tonight but was too tired, and I thought the shoulder needs more rest. I'm way behind on editing. I'll do some on Wednesday and Thursday. Hope to get started on my Red Squirrel Press book soon. 10.28pm.
Tuesday 21st July 2026
Today was okay. But only one person was in the writing session with me at Waddington Street Centre this afternoon. We did: What Matters?, Triolet, Journal Prompts and Golden Shovels. I got a Thank-You from the operations manager for the Waddy anthology. I went to Chester-le-Street after the session. Boyes had the pale blue Easy Note A6 slim notebooks I've been using for Gratitude Journal for the last fourteen years. The four I've just bought should last me till January 2030. I've no idea what situation I'll be in by then, financially or creatively. I finished reading "A Dance With Ghosts" by Kevin Brooks around twenty to midnight. I always think of novels as TV drama in words on paper instead of voices and moving images onscreen. Neither better nor worse. OK. 11.45pm.
Wednesday 22nd July 2026
Sometimes I wonder if I want to keep writing. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I just stopped. I won't, of course, coz it's what keeps me going, and that's the only thing I can do that could be deemed work. Even though a lot of people see it as folly, I see it as a necessary tool to keep my head together. Today I went out on my twenty-year-old Rockhopper bike. I rode through Castleside, then Muggleswick woods, then up to Parkhead Station by road, down to Edmundbyers then a lap of the Derwent Reservoir, up onto the A68, down past Allensford and up to Castleside, then home – about four hours. It's the longest ride I've done this year. There won't be any multiple-day rides like the C2C, which I did last year. Once was enough. Next ride will be on riverside trails on the Sonder adventure bike. Hot upstairs. OK. 10.30pm.
Thursday 23rd July 2026
Pretty bad aches and pains in wrists and crook of left arm. Four hours on a bike yesterday was too much for my pathetic body after very little warm-up this year. Today I keyed in notes, watched some BBC website writing stuff: "Don't talk about your ideas, don't buy more books, don't go on courses, just get the damn thing written." – which was summed up very concisely on the title track of the very first Rollins Band album I ever heard, a cover version of a Pink Fairies song called DO IT. So what the fuck has the last 37 years been all about? I sifted through some of my recent drafts from the workshops. I'm being brutal about what to copy out afresh and what to reject. If I live to be a hundred, I'm not going to use everything. I have more than enough material waiting already... It was good to see Pip McDonald and Gary Robertson in conversation on the Poetical Outlaws podcast today. The next one will feature Aaron Wright. OK. 10.27pm.
Friday 24th July 2026
I listened to Pip MacDonald on the Poetical Outlaws podcast last night. Gary filmed it with three cameras. It looked great. Pip talked about her influences, including a poet that she met via Zoom during lockdown, and early beginnings listening to prog rock with her dad. Pip’s first writings were song lyrics in her teens. She cited Joyce Grenfell and Victoria Wood as comedy influences. Just Think Phil is one of her favourite living poets. And she really bigged up the city of Sunderland.
Gary and Pip chattered about their experiences at Durham University whilst studying philosophy.
I don't think the next episodes were filmed with multiple camera angles. I don't remember there being more than one when I was there a couple of weeks ago.
Today I will facilitate my final Arts Centre Washington writing workshop of the current block. It's basically just a bit of an easy-going 'play with some previous forms and prompts' type of day.
I don’t know what to wear. It's supposed to be sixteen degrees by nine o'clock, a little warmer by mid-afternoon. There's a mix of grey and blue up above at present, indoors and out.
I came down to that fucking stale odour again this morning. I got down on my hands and knees and sniffed the kitchen carpet - it smelled okay. I think it must be the sink. It never gets enough hot water down it. I will buy more baking soda and use white vinegar as well. Also, I'll spend the day decluttering everything. I need to spend about a week tidying up downstairs. I have a feeling I'll be trashing a lot of recent spare workshop handouts. I just don't have the space for them. I went through a couple of recent workshop notebooks last night. There are quite a few pieces that I want to copy up. And there are some journaling excerpts from sessions I'd like to get into a desktop notebook as well. It's a lot of work just to get on top of the recent output. I have no idea how to go about using any of it.
I caught a little BBC writers clip on Facebook yesterday. Lisa Holdsworth: "Forget about buying more books, stop going to courses, just get the damn thing written. It should be awful in the first draft. It's meant to be. But then you go back and get it as good as you can - that's when the magic happens."
And I kind of agree. But not wishing to bite the hand that feeds any more than I already have done in recent days, I feel I've written some pretty good performance pieces in workshops, my own and others. I should be submitting to magazines, but I'm not enamoured by many that I've seen in recent years, and I've already bought loads of stuff to read. I want to spend more time at home getting stuff edited, not doing yet more first drafts. In the next couple of years, hopefully, I'll be consolidating my scraps and vignettes and getting better drafts into shape and finding ways to make bigger and better books. Having said all that, I've just ordered a 40th Anniversary copy of “Human Geography” – Simon Armitage's debut pamphlet. I can't remember if it was originally published by Smith Doorstop or the Wide Skirt Press, but it's now reproduced in a lavish signed version from Faber and Faber. I got a notification from the Royal Mail saying it will be arriving on Saturday between 9.15am and 11.15am, so it's just as well I'll be home tomorrow morning.
I'm going to For Better or Verse at Blackhill Club this evening. I wanted to go just to be a listener, but I might read a thing or two on open mic. I'd really like to try out Tickle a Brick, which was written about my days in the warehouse just before we were all made redundant. But a lot of it is about language, pronunciation and accent. I'd struggle at present, I think, to do it justice. It's one of those pieces that could benefit from Apples and Snakes coaching, like we got about thirteen years ago from Kirsten Luckins at Scratch Tyne and Tees clubs. Usually, though, I just let the emotion of the piece come through my projection, and I don't really choreograph my movement or gestures. I mainly animate my words with my natural (some say unnatural) energy. And I don't codify what I do; I don't have a performance vocabulary, despite spending over a year around budding young theatre practitioners a couple of decades ago.
I can’t remember all the stuff I've prepped for the session today. But all I really need to do is check my notebook from Tuesday. I’ll do another lucky dip. Serendipity gave a good structure to the session on Tuesday. Pity there were just two of us in the room. I'm expecting about half a dozen today. But we're getting into the holiday season now, so it's wise to take a break for the next six weeks and come back fighting fit in September with new material.
And speaking of new material, I hope I've got a decent set of clothes left for today. At some point, I'll have to trouble Jen to wash some trousers for autumn engagements, few as they are. What will I read at Blackhill this evening? I aim to rework my Leonard Cohen ~2 poem. The quote used on Tuesday about poetry being ash wasn't 100% accurate so my golden shovel requires some rewrites. A real golden shovel would be good for moving quite a bit of ash. Anyway, time for breakfast. OK. 7.10am.
Because the 78 Sunderland bus from Consett reached Chester-le-Street five minutes earlier than the 8 Sunderland bus from Stanley, I was able to alight from the former and board the latter to reach Arts Centre Washington for my fortnightly workshop half an hour earlier than usual. I did five lucky dips from a pile of sixteen exercises to determine the running order of activities for the group's final session of the current block, and it worked well: Take Three Nouns, Tricubes, Written in the Style of Yellow, My Box and Newspaper Headline Monologue. Big thanks to all who attended so far this year. Big thanks to Alwyn Bathan for a tin of chocolates and a lift to Gateshead. I was out tonight at For Better or Verse in Blackhill. It was great. Shamie Khan performed quite a bit from memory, and Cat Bell was sensational. Some ace open floor poems as well. Gary the Hat's Philosophy, Kevin Robson's Shoplifter, Tony Gadd's Pink Slice, and host Steve Wood's Inappropriate Songs on Hospital Radio. Great turns all round. Good to walk there and back and to try out a couple of new pieces of my own. OK. 11.50pm.
Saturday 25th July 2026
I'm at home this weekend. I read the 40th anniversary signed edition of Simon Armitage's 'Human Geography' debut pamphlet. I already own some of the poems republished in 'Zoom!' but it was nice to see the original running order and a new introduction, even though I struggled with a fair bit of content. I'm used to more direct, shorter lines. I've started to trawl through my January morning pages. They are pretty dark and disturbing. I don't know what they will end up like as a book, but there’s only one way to find out... I have a bit more physio to do, then bed. OK. 10.21pm.
Sunday 26th January 2026
Spent the whole day pulling poems together for my next big collection. This evening I worked up a few more recent pieces from notebooks and am pleased that I'm still able to prune lines, make decent shapes on the page, and get ideas across. I hope selecting and sequencing isn't too difficult. OK. 11.10pm.
Monday 27th July 2026
I had a canny little ride in the woods near Shotley Bridge on the Sonder Frontier bike this morning. I can't do anything too daring, especially now I've got a dodgy left shoulder, but I enjoyed weaving about through the woods, getting over some tree roots here and there, and through a few streams. I wasted about three hours this afternoon trying to reposition the internet display on my computer monitor. It's fine on Word and Publisher, put web pages are annoyingly offset to the right, so I am unable to scroll. Can't upload to Facebook, won't be able to do the blog until it’s sorted. I've got 106 poems printed out on A5 pieces of paper and will whittle them down to a 68-page collection over the rest of the summer. My bad mood about the computer was making me doubt my ability to put a new book together, but by the end of the session, I thought that I've got a lot of good material to draw on. Should be a good one. OK. 11.42pm.
Tuesday 28th July 2026
Woke about half five this morning. Stayed in bed until eight. A shave took my final blade. I wrote about the new book. 106 poems to be whittled down to about 70. I returned an excellent Kevin Brooks novel to Consett library. And bought a couple of black t-shirts from a charity shop. Got a free replacement nose pad on my glasses at the optician's. The Waddy workshop was a repeat of Washington's from last Friday. Only two people in. We finished just before three o'clock. I came home, defrosted the freezer again, then went out for food. Three buses went by me out of service. The one back home from Tesco was half an hour late. Two bags of shopping. Too tired to walk. Too tired for much tonight. Can't do any online work until the computer is fixed. I hate being dependent on technology. I just scrolled on the mobile for a while and will be in bed early. OK. 9.43pm.
I'm at home this weekend. I read the 40th anniversary signed edition of Simon Armitage's 'Human Geography' debut pamphlet. I already own some of the poems republished in 'Zoom!' but it was nice to see the original running order and a new introduction, even though I struggled with a fair bit of content. I'm used to more direct, shorter lines. I've started to trawl through my January morning pages. They are pretty dark and disturbing. I don't know what they will end up like as a book, but there’s only one way to find out... I have a bit more physio to do, then bed. OK. 10.21pm.
Sunday 26th January 2026
Spent the whole day pulling poems together for my next big collection. This evening I worked up a few more recent pieces from notebooks and am pleased that I'm still able to prune lines, make decent shapes on the page, and get ideas across. I hope selecting and sequencing isn't too difficult. OK. 11.10pm.
Monday 27th July 2026
I had a canny little ride in the woods near Shotley Bridge on the Sonder Frontier bike this morning. I can't do anything too daring, especially now I've got a dodgy left shoulder, but I enjoyed weaving about through the woods, getting over some tree roots here and there, and through a few streams. I wasted about three hours this afternoon trying to reposition the internet display on my computer monitor. It's fine on Word and Publisher, put web pages are annoyingly offset to the right, so I am unable to scroll. Can't upload to Facebook, won't be able to do the blog until it’s sorted. I've got 106 poems printed out on A5 pieces of paper and will whittle them down to a 68-page collection over the rest of the summer. My bad mood about the computer was making me doubt my ability to put a new book together, but by the end of the session, I thought that I've got a lot of good material to draw on. Should be a good one. OK. 11.42pm.
Tuesday 28th July 2026
Woke about half five this morning. Stayed in bed until eight. A shave took my final blade. I wrote about the new book. 106 poems to be whittled down to about 70. I returned an excellent Kevin Brooks novel to Consett library. And bought a couple of black t-shirts from a charity shop. Got a free replacement nose pad on my glasses at the optician's. The Waddy workshop was a repeat of Washington's from last Friday. Only two people in. We finished just before three o'clock. I came home, defrosted the freezer again, then went out for food. Three buses went by me out of service. The one back home from Tesco was half an hour late. Two bags of shopping. Too tired to walk. Too tired for much tonight. Can't do any online work until the computer is fixed. I hate being dependent on technology. I just scrolled on the mobile for a while and will be in bed early. OK. 9.43pm.
Thought I smelt gas this morning, so had an emergency call out. Turns out there wasn't a leak, but the workman was quite taken aback when told that the chimney had been blocked off inside the new roof and that I haven't used any gas for the best part of five years. He cut off the supply for safety reasons. I will need a new combi boiler before winter to prevent damp and avoid the risk of pipes freezing. The hassle of getting the house sorted before winter will be a pain. I am not really cut out for domestic upheaval. And I can't really afford it either. The back boiler is nearly 40 years old. No work on my new book today, but I sorted the screen display and web browser problems on my computer. Then spent a lot of time decluttering my living room. OK. 11.48pm.
Thursday 30th July 2026
Got the fear reading online that just because the gas supply to my house has been cut off, it doesn't mean the old redundant back boiler is safe to leave standing with a sealed-off flue. I phoned my cousin, plumber Flush Gordon, who assured me that's not the case and I’ll be fine. From mid-morning onwards, I’ve devoted my time to destroying perfectly good workshop handouts and other papers that are cluttering the house. The living room is mostly cleared. I've got rid of loads from the bedroom and am storing piles of books by the unused radiator until I determine how many bookcases are needed for the back room, which at present is just an unholy mess of books, files, magazines, clothes, boxes - all sorts. My place was always spotless before I became a writing facilitator in 2003. I need a solid month to get it looking anywhere near good again. OK. 9.48pm.
A calm morning. Nice to see a window ledge that isn’t covered in detritus for a change.
The big expanse of beige living room carpet is back, only a few more stacks of books to move upstairs.
The months are flying by. I’m a bit sad for the loss of biking ambitions this year, but don’t want to risk any more body damage after the hernia and torn bicep. I haven’t done any over-fifties physical exercises for a while. I’ve kind of fallen off the wagon. I’m hoping to get out on the bike again for an hour this morning.
I don’t expect to be doing much in terms of public events throughout August besides Poetry Jam and my weekly writing session at Waddington Street Centre. I will be more focused on book work at home.
There is probably enough material in the scores of notebooks stacked up in my bedroom to keep me busy for a decade, so I might ease back on new drafts for a while.
I don’t think many people are eager for a continuous internal monologue from an eccentric, cantankerous fiftysomething fool such as myself. Do other so-called independent authors ramble on about their domestic trifles? Probably not.
I have umpteen choices of books to read in the coming months, including Defying Gravity – Jordan’s Story; Kay Wilson’s novel The Allotment Sisterhood; The Collected Poems of Geoff Hattersley (when it arrives); the rest of Lydia Lunch: The War is Never Over; Shotley Bridge Murders by Bobby Cussens; a load of Julia Eff autobiographical zines; or some Clive Barker; or Paul Morley’s Joy Division Piece By Piece, etc, etc.
Joan Johnston has requested a second printing of her pamphlet, The Lay-By. There’s a long-overdue Washington Writers Anthology to edit and print. And a couple of solo author pamphlet commissions to work on. Busy, busy. 9.00am.
LATER: I did a clean lap of some of my favourite little technical trail sections near the River Derwent on my Sonder Frontier bike this morning. I’m taking things easy this afternoon. I might get Poetry Jam photos uploaded this evening. It’s been a bit of a trying month. Thanks for reading. 4.08pm.
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