Thinking about the murder of Julius
As his name-month swelters
And the Unitarian Doric of New Road
Houses a new busker
The formal portico is like a promise
Of something even better
Rational organisation of things
Simplicity of a sun-shaped god
The flute-player misses a note
Sparrows chip the paving
– No blood on these stones –
The next high improvisation he attempts
Disappears into the blue and out of history.
Columns indent like inert components
Of some unwieldy gear
Which has run down now and lies
Disassembled in the workshop –
Cog-wheels and grease, the smell of solder.
my queer noirish drunk novel now available on iBooks, as well as Kindle…
a different way of talking about literature
well i’m not sure if that’s really worked or if it has whether i really like it. WordPress does seem a bit difficult to manipulate sometimes
i changed the colour to red for the time being
My novel is out on Kindle. Just doing the iBooks version. I hate advertisements.
thinking of writing an alternate history of Britain in the 1970s, where Ray Davies of The Kinks becomes Prime Minister, and “Lola” becomes the national anthem
“Do you feel like you’re getting stronger, darling?”
“No, not really.”
Well I’ve crept along to the next page of my Kindle e-publication. God this feels so counter-intuitive. For all of my loudness, indiscretion, and social awkwardness – I sometimes wonder if I have an Asperger’s diagnosis – I am actually a preposterously shy person. A terrified neurotic.
But nevertheless, it’s getting there. After submitting the manuscript to numerous agents – and getting replies that ranged from the encouraging (Curtis Brown) to the no-reply-at-all (many, who shall be nameless), I shall now try Kindling my novel.
It will at least feel like the completion of a process. I am also intending to publish on other platforms – but Kindle is a start. Writing the blurb has been surprisingly fun.
But a cover? Oh yes?
And as I have purchased a few ISBNs, shall I call myself a publisher? What name? Now that’s something it might be fun to ponder.
Looks beautiful out, from the window beside me, but there’s a cold wind. I’m thinking of my friend with benefits in Scotland and wanting to escape up there. At least start messaging with him.
But – hey – it’s good to do something counter-intuitive isn’t it? In fact, essential.
Just put my two entries into the Bristol Short Story Competition. Why is this stuff so difficult for me to do? I wonder.
Anyway, that’s done. Forget it. Now hang the washing on the radiators.