My novella got shortlisted for a Saboteur Award at the end of May. It didn’t win, but I got Sabotage Review, which means a lot to me.
Between now and January 2017 I’m finishing book 3 in the Spanish Spectres series (Filled with Ghosts, Ghost Train Leaving, Ghosts Treading Water) and sorting volume 1 and 2 poetry collections (How to Kill a Comet, and Close Scrutiny). If you think this means an intuitive and frenzied approach, rather than one seeking advice and careful consideration of every aspect, you’re right, but that’s who I am.
I’m never confident I will be around tomorrow, and having lost so much, I’d quite like to leave some bits of my messy heart and soul available for the small but perfectly formed gang who care. All will be published by Wordcatcher Press between January and September 2017. I will emerge from my hermit crab shell to read and launch in Sunny Wales
I’m giving the dogs a break by talking to Blog. Dogs are very thankful; they can get on with worrying about where their next treat is coming from instead of whether or not my sanity is intact.
The Advent calendars are finished and I’m pleased as a fish in a coral reef. Last time I made them was with my nephews, but who needs nephews when you can make Advent calendars without them?
I realised today, after being sober for Eleven Days, that my really hopeless memory is not down to wine; it’s just a hopeless memory. I can remember things that happened a while ago, but not five minutes ago. Luckily I write stuff down, often illegibly, always mixing the vital with the irrelevant. But hey, it’s a system. And the purpose of this blog. A legible post it note. In case you were wondering. Or I was.
I thought I’d gone into slump mode as I was feeling disheartened yesterday, and not able to take in Facebook and its many lives. Seems I’m not slumping though. Today I finished my advent calendar which for reasons best known to..well no one… I felt like doing. Then I sent a short story to an anthology that gives the proceeds to animal rescue of one sort or another. I don’t ever like my short stories, so I either send them off as soon as they’re written or I end up chucking them. Well this one’s sent, so there you go.
Now I’m to write blurbs for Books 2 and 3. Book 2 will be out in January, Book 3..further down the line. Going to start draft three tomorrow. That should be the last of the Filled with Ghosts series… a trilogy is quite a nice shape.
You can’t ever go back, and too often it’s impossible to move forward. Obstacles are various, but almost always involve Other People. You can’t make people do things. You can’t make people fulfil promises. You can’t make people care about what you’re doing. People are busy caring about what they’re doing, and for the most part, unless what you’re doing is helping them with what they’re doing, what you’re doing has zero value in their eyes.
At this point the only thing you can do is Go Sideways. Going sideways, Making like a Crab has infinite possibilities. However many people piss you off, burst your bubble, think your kindness is weakness…you can always Step Sideways. I’m Moving Sideways Again today. New horizon straight ahead. Looks good from here.
A day spent doing a painting for a kid is not a wasted day…if only I could deliver it tonight…but that’s the hard bit…. not going to happen..
Paint needs to dry so I can add flourishes of sharpie. What better time to indulge in navel gazing and self reflection? Morning page scantily clad as blog entry. At this moment in time, I’m totally unaware of what is happening in anyone else’s life.This is the point of writing a blog post, rather than an FB post: my intention is to write a totally selfish pointless post. Morning pages are not for others to read. The fact I will hit ‘share on FB’ after I’ve written this only proves how sad I am. I’m embracing how sad I am. This is ‘Sad Case awareness Day’ on the very tiny Planet Kaz.
I’ve come to the conclusion I’m unfixable. I’ve always thought at some point I would be fixed; when I grew up; hit twenty; thirty; forty; fifty.Being fixed would mean not alienating everyone. Being fixed would mean not being alone on Planet Kaz. Yet here I am. Because however much people say they care about me, I’m aware of how easy it is to stop them caring, and that it’s only a matter of time. Frequently I hurry it along, just to get it over with, and so I feel a bit of control in the situation, instead of that helpless feeling, where I wonder what I did wrong.
Today I’m going to cheer myself up by making someone a present and attempting to deliver it to them, at the right place, at the right time. I might have got all three aspects wrong. It might not work, I might have the wrong time and place. I’ll have the dogs with me and they might try to eat people during the few minutes I’m there. I’ll stay outside, which means less people eating.
That’s more than three things that might go wrong, isn’t it?
This day last year I was on a site where you told your story about mental health problems, to raise awareness. I think I talked about the many years professionals spent deciding if I was manic depressive or schizophrenic. They came to the idea it was schizophrenia because of the number of visual hallucinations I experience, and really I’m manic/productive more often than depressive. They don’t always separate bi polar and schizophrenia these days, and they can chuck as many labels at me as they like, so long as they help.
They decided on my drugs, and they work, mostly. They gave me as much therapy as the NHS could support (24 cognitive analytical) and it helped because I could talk for an hour without the self-loathing I feel when I bang on about my problems to friends.
I think the times I’m depressive are as a result of the chaos I wreak in my personal life when I’m manic. I’m not going into a big guilt trip about this chaos, because that is where Awareness comes in, I think. My family are Aware, but it doesn’t do any good., they keep me at arms length and have since I was a child. Making people aware can have people run a mile. It’s a risky business. It’s not a picnic.
Yesterday I commented on a friend’s Facebook post that my History teacher used to write, ‘Don’t Invent History’ across my exercise book. (I remember one time when I was talking about a couple of Kings, then realised they were the same person, so had one kill the other 🙂 ) I couldn’t remember facts but loved detail. I’ve just realised I spend my life doing just what I was told not to do 🙂 Sorry Miss O’Donnell..I let you down quite badly.
This is what I’ve done today: eaten chips, eaten sandwiches, eaten more chips…drunk wine, drunk beer….walked miles with dogs to get locusts from pet shop for gecko but they’d run out…faffed on face book… felt sad , .. felt a bit shit..quite liked some people..liked some animals enormously..wondered if my life is going down the drain…