Push Push Struggle Struggle aka The Indifference Engine.

And so, it goes ever onwards.

You write the book, clap yourself on the back, and then instead of cherubs scattering rose petals at your feet and heavenly hosts singing your praises, it all kinda goes pear shaped…

It turns out that all they warned you about is true, they weren’t ghost stories, they are cold hard facts that have zero consideration for your artistic sensibilities – your feelings be dammed!

It’s hard, its cold, and it is indeed true – the cosmos doesn’t care how much blood sweat and tears you’ve invested in your scribbles – not a flicker is recorded.

And those who backslapped and cheered by your side as you wrote your opus – conspicuous by their absence indeed they all are for the next stage.

Its lonely.   

What so dominates your life isn’t even a mere ripple in theirs.

Get used to it.

The cliché it seems isn’t one.

Writing was indeed the easy bit – so if you cried doing that bit, strap yourself in the rest of the ride is wilder than a wild thing and it follows no rules, has no constricting factors, it goes where it pleases, and what pleases it is mostly your pain. 

It’s not that your book is or indeed isn’t well written – again the cosmos doesn’t care – utter tripe will sell by the hundred weight, and literary genius will die in obscurity – it isn’t fair, but it is how it works – accept or die frustratedly and futilely screaming into the void that will never answer back.

The game is rigged against you, the dice most assuredly are loaded in favour of the house, and unless you are a media accredited celebrity you are indeed going to have to put in the hard yards.

Acceptance of this reality isn’t a complaint; it is just a realisation of the uphill struggle that is now.

The deposit on the castle in Scotland hasn’t happened just yet – we’ve a few more hurdles to go before we become the living embodiment of a Halmark film. 

We reserve the right to occasionally feel somewhat down, to at times scream our frustration into the afore mentioned uncaring void – we must vent, for if we don’t, we will explode with all the pressure.

Fall seven, stand eight.

Resilience is lubricated by tears.

Ever onwards, chin into the wind.

Stay safe, hug those you love – remind them whenever you can and do you very best to stay sane!

Polite Society.

Things you do, things indeed you don’t do, and discussing politics it seems is one of those things.

I think we are the poorer for it, especially writers.

Stories are the near obvious vehicle for commentary, for exploring narratives, and yet it seems that this is now a taboo.  Sexuality and relationships are fine – violence never in question, but the ‘P’ word – nope, never never never. 

Where have all the angry young men, those Young Turks, the social commentators, the satirists, and holders of mirrors to society faults failures and darker traits gone? 

What has become of those writers of dystopian social commentary?   

Does the burning of information, the destruction of yesterday’s knowledge in ‘Fahrenheit 451’ still resonate – do we still grimace at the thought of those ‘Firemen’?

Can we see the alienation and inherent loneliness of perpetual self-indulgence in ‘A Brave New World’?  

Is ‘1984’, still the clarion call for freedom and the warning of the abuse of power, is it still read as a horror story and warning to us all – or is it just no longer read, instead reduced to a glib reference?

I’m NOT saying that you must discuss the human condition through a prism of political debate in your writing, but it would be nice if a few more did.

I just feel somewhat adrift from a world that seems to see political discourse as the only social taboo worth obeying.

Is it the fault/failing of social media, is it the fear of a pile on and cancel culture if you mock, deride or merely allow daylight to fall onto modern absurdities?

My woe is for the self-censoring of an art form, an expressive outlet for which any creative restriction is the very antithesis of telling compelling/challenging/interesting stories.

While I weep, while I weep…

Maybe I should tubthump a manifesto novel – maybe I should, maybe I will.

Side profile picture to the world, chin up, hand on lapel, distant and determined look in my eyes…

Hug those you love, stay safe, and try your best to remain sane!  

Echo Chambers + Purity Tests.

Do we want to read to be entertained, and if so, then surly ONLY the story being told counts?

Naïve – seemingly.

Full Disclosure – I’m a bit of a long-term fan of Stephen King.  IT, The Green Mile, Misery – these are books that I have loved since the first creak of the spine, the receipt of that new book smell, and the joyous anticipation as the first page was read all the way to the immense satisfaction as the last one ended the tale. 

His political views have never been a consideration, nor should they ever be.

Be entertained – enjoy it in good faith and move on with your life.

If I found out a writer was a fan of Eugenics, or a devout Christian, I may find this information interesting when thinking about any themes in their work – but nothing more.

This I thought was a near universal mantras, yet it seems I’m wrong.

Purity tests now seem permissive in their prevalence – and unflinching in their dogma.  Yet this dogma flickers in the wind like a proverbial weathervane, and it must be exhausting keeping up to date.

Have we always been at war with Oceania – I’m not too sure… 

Many on social media (yes, I know it’s not real life – but it is a snapshot) routinely declare that they won’t follow such and such because of an opinion that they hold (or often are thought to hold or accused of holding) and when I see this I am at a complete and utter loss.

I sit bereft, truly bereft at it all. 

How can you live your life like this?

Would these people genuinely burn the books that brought them such joy because of an opinion that is different to theirs?

We aren’t talking about people who have raped or murdered, we are talking about folk who just see society from a different perspective and therefore have solutions, from their point of view, that may be at odds with our preferred option. 

The near automatic assumption of malicious intent on those who challenge or differ from our world view is madness – it truly is.

That’s it, that’s my rant.

Open your mind and your heart will follow!

Hug those you love and stay safe and sane.

Time and Tide (Happy Talk)

It hits us all, one day we realise that we are indeed ‘old.’

I know that ‘old’ is of course a relative concept – when I was six or seven, being ten or twelve was ‘old’, or indeed when I was in my teens anyone in their thirties was just too old to exist in decent society – Logans Run take a bow!

Now though, I am, I think, by most objective measures (almost) old.

I’m blessed to have made it this far – hitting your late fifties is a milestone that tragically alludes many a person. 

They say that a good life is measured by how many tall tales you could tell when sat around a campfire – and indeed there is truth to that thought.

Life isn’t about the things you didn’t do; it is about those great adventures you had while trying – maybe it was successful, maybe it wasn’t – but wasn’t the ride a pure adrenaline rush – oh and look at these scars!!

I’m not advocating for a pure hedonistic self-centred approach, but I am mindful of a speech I have on my study wall –

“It is not the critic who counts, not the one who points out how the strong man stumbled or how the doer of deeds might have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred with sweat and dust and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, if he wins, knows the triumph of high achievement; and who, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

The theme of this speech by Theodore Roosevelt echoes in many of my musings – especially the call not to be sat with ‘those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.’ 

Life, responsibilities, opportunity, health, a myriad of things including and never forgetting cold hard cash impact aspiration and often impede actualisation – but as Teddy says, it is the striving that counts.  It is the intent and moves within whatever limitations you have to deliver your dreams – that is what counts, that is what is important.

This isn’t a manifesto for excuses, for letting things slide – if only…

This is the honest pragmatism that sometimes dictates that dreams of your youth may take longer to deliver than you hoped – but you persevered.

Old indeed you may be now, a greybeard silverback – but the fire is still burning, the desire to complete your quest still your focus.  The bones may indeed creak, the body is slower to deliver, the mind occasionally absent minded, but the direction of travel remains true.

This is my quest to follow that star

No matter how hopeless, no matter how far

To fight for the right without question or pause

To be willing to march into Hell for a heavenly cause

And I know if I’ll only be true to this glorious quest

That my heart will lie peaceful and calm when I’m laid to my rest

And the world will be better for this

That one man, scorned and covered with scars

Still strove with his last ounce of courage

To reach the unreachable star

Two quotes, one from a president of the United States, and one the lyrics from a musical – do they compliment what I’m trying to express – I hope so.

I think we must always be mindful of our achievements thus far in life, but we must always keep an eye on those things we’ve yet to do.

Time is passing, the grains of sand are running out and tomorrow is only ever a promise.

I wanted to write a book, to see if I could, and that I have achieved.

Now I have a book, a tall tale that I want to release into the wild – to let it run free to have its own adventures.

Maybe it will get four stars, maybe only one – but it will be out there, and as we throw another log onto the fire, I can regale you with the trials, tribulations, successes, and failures of a man who dared to dream…

Hug those you love, hug them, and tell them that you love them.

Stay safe, remain sane, and follow your dreams!

If you don’t talk happy,

And you never have dream,

Then you’ll never have a dream come true!