I haven't been writing a lot recently, and any addition to the website has been hit and run but it's more out of perspiration than procrastination...which is a first. I recently bought a house, the first house, a bonafide cherry popping occasion if ever there was one. This milestone of adulthood did not come easy though, most of 2013 was spent either haggling over the value, the fixtures or simply waiting...and waiting...and waiting as one deadline expired in time for another to simply appear and pass by in the blink of an eye.
It wasn't all bad though. We moved down to the sticks for a few months, lived with her folks, made a stronger connection with them and ourselves and each other, we drank too much rum, we taught the ILTB (in-laws to be) about the finer points of iPad ownership and in the midst of all that I not only got the chance to edit Bone Idol [bohn ahyd-](I'm not adding the link, I'm not that much of a big whore) but I also managed to scrape together a halfway decent (maybe, I currently don't hate it) new story. A noir piece set in Belfast, write what you know huh?
Since getting back to Fast City though the progress has been slow. Inevitable really seeing that I've been spending most weekends up a ladder or on the business end of a saw. I'm currently turning the rear of the living room into a book and DVD library, it'll afford me the one chance in life to have my little books alongside the Bukowski, Cs. Fante, Js. & Burroughs, W. of this world and should my noir ever get finished and handed over to it's new daddy to raise in his own image then perhaps I can have a DVD of my own adapted narrative to sit alongside Dark Passage and The Maltese Falcon...though not directly alongside as I'm an anal alphabetising freak when it comes to my discs.
This weekend is hopefully the last weekend of my one man Tool Time re-enactment as I've to start diverting funds away from cushion flooring and towards Caesar's Palace, where I'm getting hitched come April. That brings with it its own writing problems. The groom's speech is usually a free pass, say something sentimental and lovely, say on behalf of me and my wife...ride out the cheer but I'm a perfectionist, not holding the typo-gate issues I had with Lost Angeles that went unnoticed for the first few months of release against me. I want to do it right, better than right and not only do I have to work on pulling something together that will strike the right tone and entertain/move many different people, from different walks of life, continents, and generations but I've also got to strive to overcome the Achilles heel of all Northern Irish (pronounced Norn Iish) males...public speaking.
With Bone Idol [bohn ahyd-l] I felt that I managed to exercise a lot of the great North Belfast demons about dreams, desire, and the guilt of wanting more from your life than whatever 40-per-week, clock-in and out deadbeat existence will offer you. It's only now, now that I'm writing things down with a mind towards speaking them aloud that I realise I kind of sidestepped the bigger issue for the sake of being able to put a win in my corner. It's not enough to accept wanting to write for a living, wanting to do more than the office gig, you've got to live it. I'm giving some serious thought to getting some preparation in prior to the day of the hitching ceremony. Perhaps taking a copy of Bone Idol [bohn ahyd-l] or more likely my new noir project (as it's less personal) and trying it out in front of people. People who will listen, and interpret, and judge when I inevitably spam out a two foot wide tongue and stumble over my words. I'll make sure to let you know how it goes...
Though I'm not even sure anyone reads this.