It’s Disability Pride Month

I’ll be honest, I didn’t know this was a thing until a friend posted about it on Facebook, but yes, July is Disability Pride Month.

On the 26th July 1990, George W Bush enacted the Americans With Disabilities Act, and in the same year, Boston held its first Disability Pride event. Parades now take place in several American cities and with the internet now in play, this is also taking off in other countries too. You can read a bit more about the history of this month here.

I haven’t updated in a while, but I thought this was maybe a good opportunity to get back into it again, since this is actually something really close to my heart.

Back in 2013, I found a weird blister sort of thing on my chest. Initially I was told it was just a tissue infection and to take paracetamol, but when it grew worse and eventually became a huge, open wound, my GP eventually sent me to hospital, saying she had no idea what it was. As a stroke of good luck, the doctor on duty in the admissions ward that day was a leading specialist in breast cancer and took one look at the wound then said, “It’s cancer, and there’s a lymph node there involved too.” Just by looking. He sent me for CTs etc, every scan in the book almost, and they all confirmed what he’d said just by looking.

So I was told not to start reading any long books, more or less. My oncologist didn’t really hold out much hope. She basically told me the tumour was damaging the tissue round about it and so it was too difficult to operate. They would do chemo, but don’t get your hopes up, kind of thing. The problem was, the chemo makes your immune system drop down to practically zero (actually zero at one point in my case) and I have this open wound on my chest, which immediately got infected. So I was in and out of hospital pretty much constantly for about six months, until the ward doctor at the Beatson Hospital in Glasgow overruled my oncologist and contacted the surgical team to arrange an excision. I switched oncologists not long after this because I was a bit fed up of her telling me I was going to die all the time, and she made a few pretty bad mistakes along the way as well, including nearly killing me by messing up my CHI number, which the NHS uses on barcodes to scan in to the blood store during surgery if they need more blood. Because she’d messed with it, they couldn’t get at the blood until they figured out where the error was. But anyway, that’s another story

So I had the surgery, then later another mastectomy just to be on the safe side as I’m BRACA1 positive, and reconstruction, which has left me with a load of scars, so basically I can never have a relationship now because who would want me when I look like Frankenstein’s monster? But also it’s left me with a load of mobility and pain issues that affect me every day. I can’t walk very far without really strong painkillers and standing around for any length of time leaves me in agony. I’ve not yet found a decent combination of painkillers either, so I’m still working with the GP on that.

The trouble is that, even when I was at the height of my treatment, I didn’t look particularly unwell. I remember a friend saying to me that if she didn’t know I was ill, she would’ve thought I was “one of those people who hug trees”, which I took as a compliment. I think. And today there’s no real outward sign that there’s anything wrong with me. So I’m always wary of using disabled toilets, for instance, or back when standing was still allowed on buses I always felt uncomfortable, that I was being judged, if I was seated and someone else, especially the slightly older people, were standing. I’ve even had people in Glasgow, when I was on the bus going to chemo, verbally abusing me for sitting down on the bus. Always by older people too. Another old guy actually started having a go at me while I was in the GP’s waiting room, going to have the dressing changed on the wound. Like, who has a go at a cancer patient waiting to get treatment? What kind of (insert swear word of choice) do you have to be to act like that?

I’ve also got the problem of my family. My father is basically abusive anyway. He’s got worse since lockdown started and actually got so bad, we’ve had to call the NHS’s mental health services about him because he was going about threatening to kill me and my cats at one point. He still wanders the corridors of the house muttering things like it would be better if I committed suicide or he’s going to blow up buildings because some firm mildly inconvenienced him. He’s about one more incident away from being sectioned, to be honest. But he tells everyone there’s nothing wrong with me and that my pain is just an excuse to be lazy. Quite often I have to reschedule trips to Glasgow or Edinburgh or wherever, places that require a longer journey, because I just feel so awful, I can’t face it. But he doesn’t get that. So I’m living with this constant atmosphere of “you’re a fraud, you’re faking, you’re lazy”, and I know a lot of people with hidden disabilities are made to feel the same way. And it sucks, quite frankly.

So what I wanted to say, I guess, was just to have patience with people, and don’t judge by looks alone. If you see someone dashing into a disabled toilet, yeah, maybe there’s nothing wrong with them and they just didn’t want to queue but equally they could have Crohn’s Disease or some other condition that makes them need the bathroom really urgently. You don’t know, that’s the point. And isn’t it better to err on the side of caution and not shout at them? If they are okay, you’ve seen someone use a toilet they shouldn’t really have used. Not exactly going to bring about the end of the world. If they have a condition though, and you attack them, you’re just adding to the pain and suffering they already have. Be kind, basically. At least, that’s how I always approach things, the way I hope others will approach me.

Do Writers Have a Duty of Care?

This is inspired by a discussion on a subreddit dedicated to fan fiction, which I often interact with because their writing advice and discussions are actually far more professional and helpful than some of the supposedly ‘real’ writing forums. The question was about the morality of RPF. For those not fluent in the language of fan fiction, RPF stands for ‘real person fanfic’ or ‘real people fanfic’. It’s where authors take actual people, usually actors from their favourite shows or band members or singers or other celebrities and write stories using them as the characters. I have never written that sort of thing myself, but I know people who regularly write stories of that nature and who enjoy it. The discussion on Reddit wasn’t intended, according to the original poster, to start a fight over whether or not RPF was disgusting or if it should be allowed, as those types of arguments do tend to crop up a lot. It’s a pretty contentious subject. Me, personally, I have avoided reading anything of that sort because it feels a bit odd to me. It wasn’t something I’d ever really thought about though until I read that discussion. It made me think, ‘why am I uncomfortable about the idea of this?’

The first answer that sprang to mind was simply because these are real people. Fan fiction generally sticks to fiction (the clue’s in the name) and uses characters from TV, films, anime etc, but with RPF, it’s actual people who could, potentially, find that story online if it’s on a public site like Archive of Our Own. To me, it ties in with the boundaries between character and actor, or a celebrity’s public persona and their private life.

I go to a lot of sci fi conventions, or at least I did prior to covid-19, and it’s an issue that arises quite often there. I see, far too often, fans approaching actors and asking rude or invasive or just insensitive questions that you would never think of asking, say, your barber or your teacher. So why do people feel it’s okay to ask these sorts of things when it’s an actor? Just to give an example, I follow (or stalk, depending on your point of view) a particular actor who played a supporting role in a sci fi franchise and later went to on to be involved in the CW’s Arrowverse, so he does a lot of cons. At one in Birmingham, we had a ‘meet and greet’ session for about ten of us to go into a conference room with this actor and have a slightly more personal and informal Q and A. One fan said to this actor, ‘when you were in [series], you always looked really unkempt and your hair was terrible. Was that your decision or did the producers want you to look unattractive?’

Cue what my Norwegian friend Iri calls ‘second-hand embarrassment’ all round the table. The actor looked extremely uncomfortable and mumbled, ‘That’s just my hair, that’s just how I look.’

At another convention in Vancouver, BC, a fan approached one of the actors whilst he was on stage at his Q and A, and started asking him specific things about his children, calling them by name. The actor was visibly uncomfortable and replied, ‘Well, thanks for reminding me of my kids’ names,’ then asked her how she knew those details about him as they weren’t commonly spread around the internet.

In both these cases, I would never have dreamt of asking someone that sort of question because I’ve always seen the actors’ private lives as being out of bounds unless they make them part of their persona. What I mean by that is, for instance, one of the other actors in that same series has always mentioned his son in tweets and on Facebook, to the point where his interaction with his son is kind of his ‘act’, as it were. His son is now older and presents videos with him on Twitch and the likes. So were someone to come up to him at a convention and ask him how his son’s videos were doing, that, to me, isn’t the same thing as he’s made that public. On the other hand, the actor I know fairly well, the one I stalk, rarely mentions his family. The implication there is that he doesn’t want to bring that side of his life into contact with the ‘public’ persona’ and therefore I don’t ask about it. He’s in control. It’s up to him if he wants to share that information or not. It’s not my right to try and probe him for details simply because I enjoyed his performance in a few shows and films.

And that’s, I think, where the issue is. There are people who feel they have a proprietary right in these actors, singers etc because they watch their shows or listen to their music. But if you think about it, that would never be the case in any other instance where you’re the consumer of someone’s product. If I go down to the Co-op and buy a bottle of Irn Bru, that 90p that I’ve paid entitles me to drink that juice, or do whatever with the contents of that bottle. It doesn’t entitle me to go over to the Barr’s factory where the juice was made and demand to talk to the factory workers, to know their kids’ names or what they wear in bed (yes, I have heard someone ask that question of the actors at a con as well), or to take a selfie with them. As audience members, viewers of TV or film, listeners of music, we are consumers. The music, the show, the film, whatever it is is the product and the actors or musicians are the producers. They’re the people working in the factory to make the thing, not the thing itself. This does get a little confused at times, I think, when celebrities make themselves the brand, but it’s still a public persona, a character almost that they’re portraying.

Because at the end of the day, the ultimate issue with RPF or with behaviour at conventions is that these actors and musicians and celebrities are human beings. They have problems and issues and emotions and traumas and all the rest of it, just like us fans. I think a lot of people either don’t realise that or need reminding of it. But thinking of that, going back to the Reddit discussion, made me consider something else when it comes to RPF. The potential that sort of fiction has to do actual harm in the real world.

There are a lot of stories about celebrities finding fan fiction about themselves. Some of them laugh it off. Others openly don’t like it. I even heard a story once about some actor’s girlfriend leaving him because she read so much RPF about him and someone else he worked with that she actually thought there was something to it. Whether that actually happened or not, I can’t say, as it was just a story going around various discussion boards, but the fact is that it’s feasible that something like that could happen. As I mentioned before, these stories are public. A search for the celebrities name could well bring them up.

This idea of a story causing potential harm immediately brought to mind the idea of a duty of care, hence the title of this blog article. Duty of care is a legal term, used mainly in the area of delict in Scots law. The English and I believe the American equivalent of this area is tort law. Delict basically deals with the idea of damnum injuria datum or ‘a wrong wrongfully caused’, which is a concept originally from Roman Law. The idea is that you do something which may not in itself be illegal, but because you did it in an improper or unsafe way, you caused an injury, whether that be an actual physical injury or psychological harm, economic harm, loss of reputation, etc. Duty of care is basically the idea that you have an obligation to try and avoid causing harm to those around you. The concept was defined in Scots law in a fairly famous case called Donaghue v Stevenson in the thirties. The case actually involved a dead snail in a bottle of juice. Two ladies were in a cafe in Paisley and one ordered a ‘float’, which is ice cream with soda poured over it, which she was going to share with her friend. They poured some of the soda (ginger, according to the court records, which on the West Coast of Scotland means anything fizzy really) and ate some of the ice cream, but as they poured more soda out they began to find remnants of the snail in their dish. The friend, who hadn’t ordered the float, became ill with gastroenteritis, and later sued the manufacturers of the soda. However, their rebuttal was that as the friend hadn’t paid for the soda, she wasn’t a customer and there was no direct link between her and the manufacturer, therefore no duty of care was owed. The appeal court threw this out.

Lord Atkin: The rule that you are to love your neighbour becomes in law, you must not injure your neighbour; and the lawyer’s question, Who is my neighbour? receives a restricted reply. You must take reasonable care to avoid acts or omissions which you can reasonably foresee would be likely to injure your neighbour. Who, then, in law, is my neighbour? The answer seems to be – persons who are so closely and directly affected by my act that I ought reasonably to have them in contemplation as being so affected when I am directing my mind to the acts or omissions which are called in question.

So the idea was that there was no need for a direct contract or link between the pursuer and defender in the case. The manufacturer should have anticipated that his actions could affect others besides the person who purchased the bottle.

In terms of fan fiction, and especially RPF, I think this general principle applies. If you are writing a story that features a real person, and you intend to publish that story on a public forum that is available to anyone with an internet connection, then you should consider anyone who could reasonably be harmed by your actions. The chance of the celebrity seeing this story might be practically zero, but there is still a chance, and therefore they fall under the category of your ‘neighbour’ in this instance, as do their family and friends, who might also come across the story and could feasibly be harmed or upset by it.

I don’t mean that RPF writers will all be sued, although it is a dodgy area to get into. Defamation is another concept in Scots law that basically encompasses the English idea of libel and slander, but doesn’t make the distinction between written or spoken allegations. It’s another issue I think RPF writers need to consider. For the Scots law of defamation, the thing said or written has to be untrue and has to cause some detriment, some harm, to the person it’s said or written about. Again, if you’re putting stories on a public forum, it is feasible that the person depicted could see it. If it portrays the person or their friends or family or colleagues in a bad light, it could be argued that it’s potentially damaging to their reputation, should someone see it and not realise it’s fiction. I know of a story that caused a lot of controversy amongst the online communities because it portrayed a certain actor’s family as abusive (so that the author’s self-insert character could come and rescue and comfort him, of course) and this is apparently quite a common theme.

So my take on this is that common sense has to apply, and that authors, while free to write whatever they want, have a duty not to harm actual people by what they do, so if they choose to post publicly, to me, they have an obligation to consider what they’re writing and if it’s likely to be upsetting. Another common theme, apparently, is killing off a celebrity’s loved one in the story in order to make room for the self-insert character. I can’t imagine coming across a graphic description of someone I loved being killed. It certainly wouldn’t leave me in a very good mental state. The argument that it’s ‘only fiction’ I think doesn’t even merit discussion. As soon as you use real details of a celebrities’ personal life, I believe you have a duty of care, whether what you’re writing is obviously fictional or not. With the international nature of the internet, it may be that it’s not a legal duty if your country’s legal system handles tort differently, but it is still, I believe, a moral duty.

Moving on from that, though, I started to think about the likes of myself who write original fiction, and whether the same sort of duty applies to us. The difference is, of course, that fiction writers rarely use real people as characters, but it does happen. Bridget Jones’s Diary is an example, or you might cite something like the Netflix series ‘The Crown’ or ‘Hunters’. With living or recently deceased celebrities who have living relatives, it’s a bit easier to see the issue, I think. They’re around and they will feasibly see this product, this book or film or whatever. So, do writers then have a duty to ensure what they produce doesn’t cause any real world harm to those featured or their loved ones? I believe so, and there are numerous court cases on the subject, or instances where the families of celebrities featured in these films have expressed their grievances to the producers.

Where it’s a bit hazier though is in my line of work, historical fiction. I recently read someone on the same fan fiction subreddit describing a story featuring Napoleon Bonaparte as ‘RPF’, and it struck me as odd, as to me, real people fan fiction was always something that involved living celebrities, or at least ones that were only very recently deceased. But that raises the question, when does RPF give way to historical fiction? It’s kind of like that question, when does grave robbing become archaeology? Is there a point in time where people stop being considered real people because too much time has passed? That struck me as a very depressing notion.

There’s a good article I found on celadonbooks.com, which restates the rule I’d always heard regarding historical fiction, that it’s anything set fifty years or more in the past, that the idea is to set the story outwith the reader’s lifetime. So does that work for actual historical figures as well? If their story took place more than fifty years ago, are they fair game? Or should we, as writers, show them the same kind of respect and courtesy we should show to living people?

It’s an issue I’ve come up against in my own works, as both ‘The Murder of a Wretched Man’ (my historical crime WIP) and ‘The Casebooks of Dorian Dashwood’ (my historical urban fantasy WIP) feature real people from the periods in which they take place. In TMOAWM, it’s not such an issue as these people, in this case Victor Hugo and Eugene Vidocq, only appear very briefly so there’s no real scope to make them ‘out of character’ or to have them do anything that might be controversial. Dashwood is another matter.

Although I’m still working on the outline for Dashwood, it’s a concept I’ve been playing with for over ten years now. The general gist of it is your sort of Harry Potter style magical society that co-exists with ours but isn’t widely known about, although my stories take place in the late Victorian era. The stories take place in the same universe as Sherlock Holmes, who makes a few cameo appearances, and the idea is that Dashwood is kind of a rival, scoffing a little at Holmes’s disbelief in anything supernatural. I thought it might be fun to involve other characters from famous works of gothic fiction, assuming they were out of copyright of course, so I was toying with the idea of having Carnacki the ghost finder or such likes turn up. That is probably not going to happen now, but one of the characters I was originally intending to use was Count Magnus, from the M R James story of the same name. My concept is that magicians in this universe can live a long time, so there are characters who are from the sixteenth century, the eighteenth etc, and I thought it might be a cool idea to have James’s vampiric count play a role as one of the bad guys in the evil cabal Dashwood and co have to face.

The problem with this is, having re-read the story and done some research, Magnus de la Gardie, the character James used, was an actual historical figure, and nothing like the depiction in James’s story. He was an officer during the Thirty Years War, and a bit of a dandy by the sounds of it, but nothing like the vile, despicable character in the story. There are also still descendants of the de la Gardie family on the go in Sweden, or so I read.

So the idea of using Magnus as a villain just didn’t seem right to me any more. My compromise, I’m thinking, will be to create a character similar to Magnus but just make him entirely my own creation, and forget about tying in the James story altogether, because I just don’t feel right using Magnus’s characterisation of the man, when it’s so factually erroneous and actually insulting to the character of Magnus de la Gardie.

But then I think about Macbeth, and the fact that the Shakespeare play basically makes a villain out of a Scots king who was, by all contemporary accounts, well-liked, a good ruler and a pious, moralistic man. Someone on a writing forum recently said they were working on a fantasy series that took place ‘in the universe of Macbeth’, with the witches etc, taking it that Shakespeare’s version is real. So is that how we justify it? It’s an alternate universe, not meant to have any connection to the real person other than the name?

I honestly don’t know the answer to that one. It’s a strange question – when do people stop really being people and become ideas that people can adapt and customise? Will there be someone in a hundred years’ time writing ‘pandemic era’ stories about me or you? And should they be respectful to our memories if they do?

Lockdown!

My country is currently enforcing a complete lockdown for citizens, so we’re only allowed out of the house for essential food and medicine shopping, medical appointments or to go to work if you’re classed as a key worker. I’ve actually been home for three weeks now, one of lockdown and two prior to that in self-isolation as I was ill, though it turned out to just be a mild flu.

My uncle is completely self-isolated as he’s diabetic and has heart issues, so I haven’t seen him in weeks now.

In terms of my job, I was working from home anyway, and I’ve actually been busier lately due to the Coronavirus. I work with the University of Edinburgh’s disability services and digital services to provide accessibility features for their online content. With the students and lecturers sent home, classes are being done remotely through various conference platforms, and last week I worked with the School of Education’s postgraduate course on deaf education to figure a way to live subtitle a couple of days’ worth of classes. Together with a woman who works ordinarily as a note-taker for students in lectures, we managed to hold things together pretty well. It felt good to be part of the proceedings rather than just subtitling or transcribing lectures after the fact. It was an exhausting couple of days though. By the time we finished on Friday evening, I had no voice left from using Dragon Dictate.

I’m hoping to use the time in quarantine to get some work done. I’ve managed to finish a custom denim jacket that had been sitting unfinished for weeks if not months, and the next item on my list is to get working on a new draft of my book. I’m figuring out the new outline at the moment (whilst re-watching the entire series of Sherlock and Torchwood). My father is currently working on clearing out one of his many rooms full of stuff that he barely uses so I can have it as a study and workroom, and fingers-crossed I might even be able to move stuff in there before the end of the lockdown period. It’ll be nice to have a dedicated space to work in.

I’ve spent the last couple of days though trying to check in with friends and just make sure everyone’s doing okay. A few are not, unfortunately, and one of the worst things about the lockdown is not being able to help as much as I would normally. You can’t go to people or hug them or even just meet for a coffee, so you have to make do with what’s available – Messenger, WhatsApp, texts etc. and it’s often hard to write down what you want to say or at least to get the emotion of it in writing.

Oh, and very odd thing happened just after I went into self-isolation. I was worried about the unreliable nature of my job with the university, as it depends on there being a demand for videos to be subtitled and I’m only officially contracted until May, when they’re going to reassess the success or otherwise of the project and consider whether to continue or not. So I’d been looking for additional work and, having failed miserably at a couple of job interviews and feeling pretty dejected and useless, my father offered to have a word with his colleagues at Stagecoach and see if there was any chance of my getting a position there, doing the same job as he does, which is conducting vintage buses that are hired out for weddings and events. I met with some extremely lovely people at various depots throughout Fife and Perthshire. I can’t actually remember the last time I dealt with a company where everyone was so helpful and friendly, in fact, and went through my induction and medical check and all and got signed up as a conductor. Then Covid-19 arrived, and the prospects of actually getting any jobs seemed suddenly slim.

Then, one morning, I woke up and checked my phone for messages and found an email from the Scottish government, with a pre-employment contract attached. Scrolling down the message list, there were several other emails, all offering me a role at the National Archives in Edinburgh. Ages ago I had interviewed for a position there, but hadn’t got the job. The email telling me this had mentioned that my CV was going to be kept on file and I’d be in the running for anything suitable that came up within a certain period of time, but to be honest I’d completely forgotten all about that. I have to stress that I haven’t officially got the job yet and have to pass some checks and medicals again, but it was still a very positive surprise in the midst of all this chaos. Now I’m just trying to track down copies of various certificates and evidence I need to send in, which is a little tricky since everyone’s home-working and so many offices are closed. Again though, I have to say how extremely helpful the Scottish Qualification Authority were when I contacted them to try and get copies of my education certificates (which are in Glasgow somewhere, and one set of Higher exam results has been missing for about fifteen years anyway). They actually went out of their way to help even though they were also at home and limited as to what they could access. The majority of people, I think, have really shone under the stress and hassle of the last few weeks.

So, I hope everyone out there is safe and looking after themselves. Look out for each other and check in on your friends. A quick text or message can be the thing that lifts someone from a dark mood right now. It’s a little ray of light, that shows you you’re not alone in all this. I think many people might be needing that right now.

 

Celebrating my 40th – Part Two

So in this post I started the story of my year of turning 40. I’ll be honest, this time last year, when 2019 was looming on the horizon, I had no clue whatsoever that this would be such an adventure.

Previously, on this blog…

So I returned from Canada, via Chicago. I had thought about going into Chicago itself as I had such a long stopover, and despite having gone to three conventions in that city, I’ve never actually gone anywhere besides the Brazilian restaurant downtown that my friends and I like (Fogo de Chao on LaSalle Bvd should anyone want to try it, I highly recommend the pace). I wasn’t quick-thinking enough though to go out of the arrivals lounge rather than heading through the transfer section, so I was re-checked in before I knew it and stuck in the airport.

One interesting little encounter though happened when my flight to Edinburgh finally came close to boarding and I moved to the relevant gate – O’Hare only really has a small central area of seating besides the individual gates so if you’re waiting for ages and don’t have a lot of cash to go from food outlet to food outlet, you end up just moving from gate to gate, shifting when a flight gets ready to board and the area becomes crowded. I’d forgotten though that the Edinburgh Festival was gearing up around that time, and sitting at my gate were a large group of people from a small theatre school somewhere in  Upstate New York or Ohio or somewhere (I’ll admit, I forget), who were taking their play to the Festival Fringe.

We got talking and they seemed nice enough, and were asking for recommendations of places to go see while they were in Scotland, mostly stuff related to Outlander, and they told me a fair bit about their play. I wasn’t working for STV at that time but I do still know a lot of people who are there, and so they seemed so nice, I said to the kind of group leader, would it be okay if I passed on the details of their play to a producer I know, who quite often did shows around Festival time, focusing on the big names and the smaller attractions on the go. I thought the whole thing that this was their first time not just out of the US but out of their own state was quite interesting and might make for a good human interest piece. The leader seemed really nice and then the flight started to board, so we went our separate ways.

Got onto the plane, and a couple of the students were in the row behind me, a few of the really loud ones who’d been hanging around the gate. I’m just settling into my seat, when I hear these students start to insult me, not having seen I’m right in front, or at least I hope they didn’t realise I was there. They then moved on to Scotland in general, and spent most of the flight basically saying what a backward, stupid country it was, and not even with any kind of factual accuracy. The loudest of them claimed he was an expert in the UK, and then went on to say how the whole of Scotland was rural, intermittently switching to calling it ‘England’, and it continued for the whole seven hours of the flight. As a side note, I really must listen to my friend who suggested taking noise-cancelling headphones when I fly long haul.

So, needless to say, I did not feel so inclined to email my friend at STV when I got home. I thought long and hard about it, because one or two of the group had been okay, but this was quite a large proportion of them seated in the rows behind me and their attitude sucked. I still don’t know if I did the right thing, but I just felt uncomfortable helping to promote people who were so comfortable being horrible to others.

Anyway, that is a bit of a digression from the main narrative there. Got home from Canada, but I didn’t have much chance to recover from the jet lag. I had my trip to Australia coming up. Never flown with Emirates before, and I have to say their customer service was exceptional. The flight from Glasgow to Dubai was like something from a farce. First of all it was delayed because it was late getting into Glasgow, then it had some technical issue that held up boarding for half an hour and threatened to cancel the whole flight. Then when we finally got onboard, they discovered someone who had checked in hadn’t shown up and they had to then search the hold for his luggage so they could offload it. None of this would’ve bothered me normally, but the transfer time was pretty tight at Dubai. I tweeted Emirates to ask what to do, as the estimated arrival time wouldn’t give me any chance of making the connection, and they replied within about five minutes, assuring me that if I did miss the flight, they’d get me on an alternative and even put me up in a hotel if necessary.

However, when we got to Dubai and deplaned, Emirates actually had representatives waiting at the gate with little signs like limo drivers at the arrivals lounge. They had the flight numbers of all the flights people must have been connecting to, and gathered us all up in groups. Then our guy basically marched us through Dubai airport, through a couple of back doors to cut out areas of the terminal and get through quicker, put us through fast track security and all the time, kept radioing the gate of our flight to let them know what was happening and to keep holding.

So despite arriving in Dubai over an hour late, I actually made the flight to Perth. Got through customs at Perth way easier than I remembered from the last time I landed in Sydney, and caught the short connection.

As I said before, I wouldn’t have been able to do this trip at all if it weren’t for my friend Paul and his mum, who very kindly put me up while I was in Sydney. I will admit that I didn’t do any touristy stuff while in Sydney, firstly because I’ve been there twice before but mostly because it was more fun just to spend time with Paul and his family. I can’t overstate how welcome I was made to feel.

Our convention in Sydney started off with a meet and greet style thing at a hotel in the city centre on the Friday evening. Can’t say as the food was all that great – I have literally never seen finger food that included strips of turnip to dip in your hummus before – but it was a nice night and we met a load of nice people. Our table seemed to be the non-Sydney group (with the exception of Paul), and so there were folks there from Brisbane, Perth, and even New Zealand. One of the things I’ve noticed going to Aussie conventions is just how nice and friendly the people tend to be, compared to other countries. There’s none of this rivalry or possessiveness regarding characters or actors that you see a lot of in British and American cons, or that sort of snide one-upmanship that also rears its irritating head a lot amongst US and UK fans. Any time I’ve gone to Australia for one of these things, I’ve always come home with more friends on Facebook and this was the case again this time. I met an amazing couple of twins from Queensland, in particular, who were just inspiring, the way they’re cutting a swathe for themselves in the world and heading after their dreams.

The convention itself was, I have to say, very well organised. Paul’s cousin also joined us on the Saturday, and again kind of adopted me as soon as we met. Only downside I think was they had two photographers doing the shoots with the actors, and one, though a very, very nice guy, was really awful. Every photo I have that he took is just frightful.

Once the convention was over, though, I had to head to Sydney airport so I could get to Melbourne for the next day of the event. Bittersweet kind of thing because it meant leaving Paul and his family, but we had arranged to meet up again for a final coffee when I was on my way back home at the end of the trip.

Melbourne, I have to say, was freezing. Even as a Scot, used to stupid weather at all times of the year, I have to say that it was bitterly cold. Apparently the wind was coming up from Antarctica and bringing the ice with it. To me, it felt like someone had severely annoyed Queen Elsa and she was on a rampage. I hadn’t really thought about it being that cold, even though last time I’d been in Sydney it had been kind of changeable so I’d brought some warmer clothes. So first job in Melbourne was to find somewhere that sold heavy denier tights!

The event there was held at Melbourne university, in one of the lecture halls. I now know that my University of Edinburgh log in also gets me into educational wifi networks around the world, which was very cool. Again, I made a few friends during the event, including the ‘Triangle of Jesses’ – at the meet and greet that evening, it turned out that all three women sitting at the end of our table were called Jessica.

I did do some sightseeing in Melbourne but to be honest, it was too cold to wander about for long!

That was supposed to be the end of the birthday extravaganza and I even said to the actor I’d gone to see that I was done now and wouldn’t be travelling again.

Turned out not to be the case though…

TBC.

Celebrating my 40th – Part One

It’s been a strange old year. Started a new job, a project at Edinburgh University’s School of Education, trialling a new subtitling service for university media, but maybe the biggest milestone this year was hitting 40 in July. I don’t usually do much to celebrate my birthday, mainly because I was born the day before my uncle, who likes to keep everything about himself and so I usually spend the day preparing to take him out and making sure we have enough gifts. Not that any of them are actually appreciated. Then I would usually sit in a local restaurant, while he scowls at each present, sometimes not even speaking to us, and it’s pretty awful. When I hit 30, my mum took me to Egypt to celebrate. The first year in 30 that I had been away for uncle’s birthday. And yet, from then on, I have had rants and whines from uncle about how I am ‘never there for his birthday’.

So, recently, I figured if I’m going to get moaned at for not being there, when I’ve actually been forced to sit through the ordeal, then why not actually go somewhere? Might as well be punished for something. This year, in particular, I really didn’t want to have to sit through one of those dinners. I wanted, selfish though it might be, to do something special.  As it turned out, I ended up doing quite a few something specials.

I posted about Karlovy Vary already, so won’t bore everyone again with that. A couple of weeks prior to that trip though, I had actually headed out to Poland, first to Warsaw and then Torun. I’m a fan of an actor called Jacek Koman (probably best known as the Unconscious Argentinean in Moulin Rouge) and so I’d been watching a load of Polish series and films he’d done, and getting to the point where I could actually follow a lot of it without subtitles. Pretty much everyone I know was, at that time, either going to Poland or just back, as there are cheap flights available from Scotland to most major Polish cities, so I decided to see how feasible a trip would be, and see the country for myself. I asked my Facebook friends for recommendations, to help decide which place to go to first, and Torun came out top of the list.

I went to Warsaw first, not really expecting to like it much, but I was pleasantly surprised. It reminded me a great deal of Prague, not just in terms of the architecture but also the atmosphere and feel of the place. I was staying in an area called Wola, and it was very like Karlin or the likes in Prague. I made a side trip to Warsaw Comic Con, though didn’t stay long as there wasn’t much to do, besides be accused by Billy Boyd (Lord of the Rings) of making fun of his accent. Guess he wasn’t expecting a stray Scot in the middle of Poland. The rest of the time I spent exploring Warsaw, especially the Old Town, until it was time to catch the train to Torun.

While I was sitting at Warsaw Główna station, a České Drahy train pulled up at the platform. It was apparently the service that runs from Prague, through Warsaw and then on to Budapest. It’s given me the idea for an adventure next year, possibly starting in Prague and then heading to Bratislava, Vienna, then eventually down to Budapest, but all by train. Not sure when that will happen, though. Anyway, the train to Torun took about three hours and it was an old-fashioned, compartment-style carriage, which you never really see any more in the UK. It was nice though, as you ended up speaking to some of the other passengers, probably more so that you would do on a regular train, and it’s always such a brilliant feeling when you speak to someone in a new language and they actually understand, no matter how simple the conversation turns out to be.

Beautiful though Torun is (as one of the few Polish cities to have avoided much damage during the various conflicts the country’s had to suffer through), I actually wish I’d split my time a bit more in favour of Warsaw. I’d worked it to spend only a couple of days in the capital and the majority of the time in Torun, but really a few days there would’ve been enough. It was extremely hot, nearly 30C, although there were water vapour things about the town where you could walk through the mist and cool down for a few seconds. The main issue I had with the place is that, as one of the few remaining Polish medieval ‘old towns’, it seems to be school trip central. The place was absolutely swarming with school groups, with the result that it was impossible to visit any of the museums or historic houses, as there was always about forty kids and a couple of teachers waiting for the forty kids already in there to come out so they could head in.

Being so hot, and since my back was still hurting a lot then, I needed to sit down frequently, but pretty much every time you found a spot to rest, within about five seconds, some schoolteacher would lead their group right over to you and instruct them to sit there. They didn’t seem too bothered about disturbing the regular folks about town, or about keeping their kids from harassing those people either. So you were constantly having to move on to try and find peace. It wasn’t exactly relaxing. My hotel, also, was opposite a theatre and a small square, which seemed to be the nightly gathering place for drunken Brits, for some reason, so the noise went on until usually five or six am. There was no air conditioning in the hotel, though to be fair, I don’t think the country had really seen a heatwave like that before, but it meant that you either had to keep the windows open and suffer the noise, or else bake in relative quiet. I was quite happy to go home, although as I said, I am keen to go back to Warsaw and also to see the likes of Krakow and Poznan as well. And I managed to find a Jacek Koman film on dvd for about 90p, so there was that.

I went to Karlovy Vary just after that, but late last year, my very good friend Paul, whom I met at a convention in Adelaide back in 2013, had suggested I go back over to Australia for a big Stargate convention that was happening in Sydney in August. That sounded like a good plan for a birthday trip, and Paul and his mum even offered to let me stay, which besides being incredibly kind, saved me the expense of Sydney accommodation and made the trip financially possible.

The only downside to that was that it meant I’d still be in Scotland on July 29th and so had no real excuse to get out of uncle’s birthday dinner.

Now, mentioned before that I’m a big fan of a Canadian actor called David Nykl. Big fan is possibly even an understatement. There are times I worry that I’m going to be arrested for stalking. But I follow him on Twitter and early in July, he casually tweets that he’s in a play in Vancouver, BC. Ach, thinks I, if I wasn’t going to Australia I could maybe have afforded to go, but alas, not to be. To make matters worse, the play was part of a rep season at a small theatre company, so it was only showing on certain days, and one of their matinees was on the Sunday of my 40th birthday.

Gutted that I couldn’t go, and must have mentioned it, well, a few times, because my father then turned round to me and said, ‘If I give you a flight to Canada for your birthday, can we go a couple of weeks without me hearing that man’s name?’ Of course, it also helped that Dad and Uncle don’t really get on, and knowing my being absent would annoy my uncle I think was the real motivation there. But either way, I was a very happy bunny. Booked everything on the Tuesday and flew out to Vancouver on the Thursday.

I was actually staying at the University of British Columbia’s halls of residence, which was a fab way to save money, although obviously it’s only available outside of term time. really cheap accommodation though, even if it did bring back memories of my uni days. I’d been to Vancouver once before, back in 2011 for, yes, another convention, but I hadn’t had the chance to see much of the city. So, on the Saturday, I took the chance to explore, walking from UBC because I didn’t have any change for public transport, and ended up walking about 17 miles. I eventually ended up in Stanley Park, nearly at the Lion’s Gate Bridge, before the blisters got too painful and I had to limp back to the nearest bus stop. However, this was the furthest I had ever managed to walk in one day since my cancer surgery, and actually my back hasn’t been as painful ever since then, so the trip had even more benefit!

On Sunday, I headed out to Jericho Beach for the play. I had to wait to pick up my tickets and it was about 27C or something in Vancouver that day, so being Scottish, and rarely seeing the strange ball of fire in the sky, I decided to sit outside. I also wanted to catch Dad on the phone once it hit 8pm UK time, so I could find out just how annoyed Uncle was with me. The answer, for those who want to know, is ‘very’. I had just got off the phone when I noticed someone cycling towards me, and recognised my wee actor right away. Since he was looking straight at me and it seemed weird not to say anything, I just gave a wave and went back to fiddling with my phone, aware that he was heading over to the bike rack and giving me a bit of a glare. Then the expression changed and I heard my name.

‘Jessica? Is that you?’ So, despite it being two years since I last saw him, despite my having shoulder-length hair now, where two years ago it was a pixie cut, and despite my wearing sunglasses, I was still, apparently, recognisable. Only took him about ten seconds too to figure out who I was. I had been a bit nervous about just showing up, and really was just sitting outside to enjoy the sun until showtime (honest), but he seemed genuinely happy that I’d come, and headed off, laughing to himself, to do a quick rehearsal before the show.

The play itself was excellent and the venue was very intimate, reminding me a lot of the old Judi Dench Theatre back at Mountview Theatre School, although there weren’t too many people at the performance and most of those there seemed to be folks who came to every show that company put on. They knew a few of the actors by first names and seemed to be well-known in return. I didn’t know whether to be a stage-door groupie or not but I figured I had come kind of a long way, and so I returned to my little bench outside just to see if the cast would do any kind of meet and greet afterwards. It started to get to the point though where all the others, the ones who seemed to come regularly, moved off and I was the only one left. Again, I was just thinking it was getting embarrassing and I was going to just leave it and go, when a member of the stage crew appeared out of the door, looking around as if checking the coast was clear. He looked straight at me, and I was ready to say, ‘I’m just leaving’, when he ducked back inside. Couple of seconds later, as I was actually collecting my bag and moving off, David Nykl appeared, saying ‘I thought as much’. So obviously the crew guy had said there was only some weirdo woman waiting outside.

I had a really nice chat with David, and he introduced me to the rest of the cast too, who were all extremely nice. It was a bit obvious I’d already been discussed, though, since a couple of them already knew I was from the UK before I’d said anything or it’d been mentioned.

Eventually, I headed back to the main road to catch the bus back to UBC (blisters were still getting in the way of any long-distance walking) and stopped at a little cafe in amongst the campus buildings for something to eat before heading back to the halls of residence. Definitely a better way to spend my 40th than eating tiny portions of poor quality food at the restaurant where Dad and Uncle were.

I didn’t fly out until 8pm the next day, so I did a little bit more exploring, this time heading down to the Science Centre, which was one of the really iconic Vancouver buildings I hadn’t seen yet, and again spent most fo the day sitting in the sun. Then it was off home, via Chicago O’Hare. Unfortunately the stopover was six hours and so if I never see O’Hare airport again, it’ll be too soon. However, the flights were all on time, and it was only going to be about a week and a half before I was due to head out to Sydney.

TBC…

I’ve posted about this on my personal page, but thought I’d do a quick write up here as well. I’m just back from an impromptu trip to the Czech Republic this weekend, to the 54th Karlovy Vary International Film Festival. I went basically because my favourite actor, one who’s been the inspiration for many a main character, announced on Twitter that the new series he’s in for HBO Europe was doing a sneak preview at the festival. Just happens that this show’s premise, which I’d known about for ages as the actor had tweeted about it before and I’d read articles about it, was part of the inspiration for the project I’m about halfway through writing right now.
I’ve wanted to go to the festival for years, ever since I lived in Prague and first found out about it, back in 2012, 2013, but usually I remember about it just as it’s too late to go, so I was doubly excited to go.
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Karlovy Vary is a lovely place, although a bit hard-going for someone with a bad back like me, and in 30 degree heat. I kind of overdid it on the first day, choosing to walk up the hillside (mountainside?) to the hotel rather than get a taxi from the station, and I suffered for it the next morning. I spent most of Friday in bed, thinking I was going to die, not that I’m overdramatic or anything.
The other slight downside was, when I arrived and went to check the box office, I was told the one remaining screening of the show was sold out, and the only chance I stood of getting in was to see if there were any last minute returns, which went on sale fifteen minutes before the show started.
I’m not obsessive or anything, but I basically staked out the last minute booking office, waiting for it to hit quarter to seven. About half six though, a guy wandered up asking the people in the queue if they wanted a spare ticket he had, and I heard the name of the show. Never jumped up and run over to someone so fast in my life! So, thanks to a stranger, I got my ticket, jumped in a taxi and headed up the hill to the Hotel Pupp. I had seen a load of pictures of this place on a Facebook page I follow, History of Cafes and Restaurants in Czechoslovakia , which seems to be run by someone based in Karlovy Vary, so it was exciting to see it up close. A lot of ‘Grand Budapest Hotel’ vibes from the place.
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KV itself is a spa town, known as Carlsbad in German, but it actually felt a lot like Paris to me in places, with some leafy boulevards and pretty buildings. Some pretty awful, concrete ones from the 20th century too, like the Hotel Thermal, where the festival has its sort of epicentre. Apparently it’s pretty bad inside and in serious need of renovation, though all I saw was the lobby, really, and the outside.
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There was an amazing atmosphere around the town with the festival going on, more so than I’ve seen when I’ve been in Glasgow when the film festival’s on. Practically everyone you passed had either a t-shirt or bag with the festival logo on. Couldn’t help buying one of the messenger bags myself, as it was a weird little thing I’d always wanted after seeing someone with one from a previous festival once in Prague. I spent a lot of time actually sitting outside the Thermal, watching one of their video screens where they showed interviews with visiting directors and previews of some of their films. To be honest, sitting around was my main activity, as it was too hot to do much else!

As for the TV show itself, it’s called, in English, ‘The Sleepers’, or ‘Bez Vědomi’ in Czech, and is set partly in 1977 and partly in 1989, just before the Velvet Revolution. It’s a spy thriller, scheduled to be broadcast this November, and HBO were giving a preview of the first two episodes at this screening. It was actually quite funny, as several people obviously didn’t know this and actually got up to leave after the first one rolled its credits. But anyway… The first episode, as you’d expect, was a bit slow in getting started, but was having to introduce both a large cast of characters and also the situation and history / background in Czechoslovakia at the time for a non-Czech audience. They did this pretty well, though I found it hard to judge as I have a fair bit of knowledge of that period and so I’m not sure how someone who’d never heard of likes of Vaclav Havel or Charter 77 would keep up with it, or if you’d even need to know about those things to still enjoy it. My guess would be no. I think it’ll stand up on its own. Once the plot gets moving though it actually does become quite engrossing, and the only annoying thing I’m left with now is that I have to wait until November to see the next episode. I think it’s going onto the HBO streaming service in the US, judging from an interview with the director, but I’m not sure about the UK. We seem to be the only country with no dedicated HBO service, and have to rely on Sky Atlantic or Sky in general buying up HBO content if we want to see it.

The really good thing to come out of it though is that, as I said, when I first read interviews with the actor I like, and heard about this project, it sparked off an idea which I started to write, initially just to keep myself occupied while I let my other book sit for a while in between edits, and which is now over 100,000 words long. It had been a bit stuck for a while though, basically because I had added a lot of information, changed a few characters etc and I was a bit overwhelmed by the work I needed to do to get it back on track. I was hoping that both visiting the Czech Republic again and going to see this show would rekindle my enthusiasm for the project, and it has. Going to ČR always feels like going home to me, and for some reason I find it much easier to write either when I’m there or when I’ve recently been there. The WIP is a fantasy, though very low fantasy and set in a vaguely 1940s-ish setting, based very heavily on Czech history in the same sort of way ASOIAF is based on the War of the Roses. The difficulty is ignoring the temptation to add new storylines and characters based on ideas sparked by this last visit, as there is enough to complicate this book as is!

It’s funny, but no matter what tangents I go off on, I always end up coming back to the Czech Republic, figuratively speaking, and especially in my writing. Projects set in Prague and the likes just seem to flow so much better than even those I set in Scotland. I have often thought of that actor I mentioned as my muse, but maybe it’s the country itself. Either way, I’m looking forward to going back to Prague in December, both to see my favourite city again, and also because hopefully by then, the show will be out on DVD!

Busy weeks, but that’s a good thing…

My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends –  It gives a  lovely light!

“First Fig” by Edna  St. Vincent Millay

 

Things have indeed been very busy the last few days. For one thing, I have started a new day job, one I hope will give me eight time to actually pursue my own interests. I’m back tour guiding again, this time in Edinburgh. Guiding there has always been a bit of a dream, the ultimate city to work in, really, for me, as I grew up visiting Edinburgh and love the place. The job does, however, involve having to learn more or less everything about the city’s past, present and future, so I’ve had to prioritise that a little, not to mention the five weeks training I’m now doing, going around on the bus tours and learning the routes. Luckily, however, I’ve written a few short stories and plotted two separate (still unfinished) novels based on the city’s history so I have had a bit of a head start.

I’m also hoping that, once I’ve got through my current list of projects, the new job will give me the kick to get back into those two other novels, one of which is a kind of supernatural mystery and the other is alternative-reality-fantasy (think Lyra’s Oxford in His Dark Materials sort of thing).

At present though I’m still trying to be disciplined and work on my other stuff. I’m still waiting for feedback from the CWA on my Prague thriller. I think that should come back next week or the week after. I have, though, gone through and edited what’s there so far. Now I just need to rewrite the ending. The book is mostly based around the story of a Czech family who ran a puppet theatre during the Nazi Occupation of the country and recently I found a photo in my archives of the sign above one of the many puppet theatres in Prague, and the one I’d based the look of my fictional theatre around. It inspired me to do a quick acrylic sketch, which I was quite pleased with…

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Other than that, I’m still waiting for a yay or nay on a long-short-story / short-novella that’s out on submission and supposedly with the editor-in-chief of the anthology. I’ve started preparing for the eventuality that it comes back with a rejection, because it was actually part of a series of shorts I wrote around the theme of ghosts, horror and music, back when I was living in Prague. I’ve decided that when or if ‘Anatomy of a Violin’ comes back, I’m going to bundle those stories together, along with a few that I have that are also around the theme of horror meets art in one form or another, and actually try my hand at self-publishing. That was why I was raking through photos in my hard drive, looking for material to use for cover art and illustrations. One of the things I’ve enjoyed about fiddling with this project is being able to plot out my own illustrations and use my own artwork. It’s a bit of an ego trip, I have to admit.

It’s also been a bit of a confidence boost as well, as most of the stories I’ve dusted off for this anthology are ones that were submitted and rejected, most with little more than a form email. At the time I’d just assumed they were rubbish and set them aside. But now, re-reading them with a fresh eye, I’ve spotted the odd bit here and there where they could be tightened up, but overall, I’m pleased with the quality. I think it’s been more a case of there not really being the right place for them in the sort of magazines and such available at the time. Which is not to say I think they’re brilliant. But I don’t think they’re terrible any more.

So in the end I found the photo I was looking for, of a set of sculptures in Prague called the ‘Dancing Fountain’, on Senovážňe Náměstí by Anna Chromy, which I’d always kind of had in my head as the image to go with ‘Anatomy of a Violin’. So for now, this is my idea.

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It may change, especially if this anthology decides they actually want ‘Anatomy’, but I don’t think they will. It never gets past the last stage with these things because of the length. But I love it and I want it out there.

So that is that for now. I’m now back to try and remember my Assembly Rooms from my Assembly Hall, and learn the stop number for Edinburgh Castle…!

A Quick Update

It’s been a while since I set this blog up, but I think now there is actually enough going on  to give me something to post about.

On the writing front – I have two projects currently in progress. The first is technically in its first draft, although there were a few false starts. This one has no name of yet. To be honest, it’s the first book for ages where I’ve had no idea even for a working title. It’s a historical crime fiction novel, set in 1821 in the north of France, and has involved an awful lot of research, but having a background in history, that’s part of the appeal for me.

My setting is a small town in the Pas-de-Calais called Montreuil-Sur-Mer, which some might recognise as it’s the setting for part of Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables. That is, in fact, what made me choose it as a setting. Les Misérables is one of my favourite works of literature and has been since high school. The very first book I ever tried to write, on A4 lined paper in a ring binder in between classes, was based on it. Now, I don’t have that original story any more and I’m kind of glad as it probably would need killed with fire. However, a year or so ago, I had a conversation with a friend about it and thought, well, I’m a little bit more advanced now in terms of writing – could I actually make the idea work?

At the moment, it’s far too long, running at 90,000 words and it’s barely two thirds finished, so editing is going to be fun, to say the least.

The best thing about it, though, has been going to Montreuil for research. The town is beautiful, and you don’t need a lot of imagination to picture Valjean and Javert still wandering around there. Every time I’ve visited, moreover, I’ve had such an amazing welcome. The very first time I went there, I stayed in a small hotel just outside the town, and as soon as the owner found out why I was there, she actually fished out newspaper articles, books and pamphlets on the history of the town.

 

Second project is currently being edited, and is a modern day crime novel set in Paris, New York and Prague. It started off with a random idea I had after reading the premise of a film a friend of mine was making, and ended up going off from there, with no outline or notes. That’s not the usual way I work, and after a while, I set the thing aside thinking it was getting to twisted and not making much sense, because I wasn’t plotting it as meticulously as I would normally. When I fished out the old Scrivener file, though, I found that yes, the plot needed work but I really liked the POV character, enough to go through it again and rewrite large parts so that it made sense. So now I’m going through again to tidy it up.

I’ve actually sent the first 5,000 words off to the Crime Writers’ Association for their critique service, something I’ve never done before, although I have been on the receiving end of feedback from the CWA before. That previous experience has me wondering what I was thinking, actually asking them to tear my work to shreds, but hopefully it’ll prove more useful than hurtful. They say it takes three weeks for them to send their report. I’m a terrible judge of my own work, though, so I need an objective opinion to see whether this project is worth putting more effort into or if it is just drivel.

So that’s that. I’m back on track again now, I think, after a really hard few months over Autumn and Winter last year, so hopefully 2019 will bring some writing success.

Work In Progress (Very Definitely)

Bear with me, folks. I’m still trying to figure out what I’m doing here (and in life in general), but I hope to have this thing up and running soon, as a place to showcase some of my work and discuss stuff I find intriguing. I have no idea if it will be of any interest to anyone other than myself. Just have to wait and see. Jx

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