The Word Cloud

Apart from here, I don't blog. I have a blog account on eblogger, but I've never used it. Part of that is laziness, part of that is I'm a nobody, why the hell would anyone be interested in what I have to say any way, but most of it is my role in the lives of a few thousand teenaged lives.

Y'see, I've been reading a lot about how it is good for an aspiring author to have a blog. How it is seen a A Good Thing, because prospective agents can google you and look you up. Problem is, if prospective agents can google you and look you up, so can the thousand kids you have at your school at any one time, too. And that, my dear Cloudies, is NOT A Good Thing.

Kids are strange. They profess to hate school, and a lot of them profess to hate you and your subject (as I said to one girl this week when she said those wonderful words every teacher lives for  - 'I hate this lesson' - I gave the standard reply of 'Well, my work here is done...'), and yet, whether you like it or not, you kind of become a Z list (heh, T list?) celebrity to them. Their curiosity for what you do in your spare time is quite voracious. Even though I use an internet handle (for this very reason, I may add) and don't put my email up, I still get 'Hi miss its Lauren from 9A2 how r u?' messages / emails every now and again, and it worries and infuriates me.

Why? The messages are, on the whole, innocent; even the kids who profess to hate you tend to send nice messages, but each time I receive one, a little piece of me dies, whilst another little piece of me panics. And yet another piece of me gets angry. There are three main reasons. 1) if you interact with kiddies out of school, you are unequivocally and obviously a pervert (even if they sought you out), b) I want a life of my own that is not observed by those I teach and c) get a fucking life! I'm your TEACHER, not some sad wannabe celebrity who craves attention. Go google some other low life who appreciates it!

A couple of years ago, the government wanted to bring in a 'Role Model Charter' for teachers. This basically meant that teachers had to hold themselves up to 'role model' standards of behaviour no matter where they were: at home, down the pub,  in the supermarket - anywhere where they might face their pupils or their parents. This included on the internet, and that is where I got angry.

I draw pictures that, whilst not particularly dodgy, an 11 year old's mum might not appreciate. I write fiction that includes violence and sex. You know why? Because I am an ADULT and therefore I am ALLOWED TO. What I get up to in my spare time is up to me (okay, so if I was caught shooting up heroin on line and then sucking off a donkey, I could understand their concern... but that's not what I am talking about here. I think anyone in any job would be in trouble if they were caught doing that on line!), but I consider myself a pretty decent person - why shouldn't I be allowed to post my drawings up online and share them, or post up my writing for critique without the fear of being hauled into the Head's office on Monday morning?

  Last year, we even had 2 cases of kids pretending to be teachers on Farcebook so they could stir and cause trouble. And cause trouble they did. They meticulously found out information about those teachers (from the internet, naturally), set up accounts in their names and then, casually as you like, systematically went around talking to other teachers about school, about their opinions of other teachers and pupils, about what they thought of the Head... things that, worryingly, could get them sacked. And that was their purpose. To harm teacher's careers as much as possible.

The kids involved were expelled, but despite the teachers' identities they stole wanting to press charges, the police were never involved. One of those teachers - a dedicated senior member of staff - left last summer, because she was so sick of it all. As far as I know, she isn't teaching any more. Our profession has lost an excellent teacher because two stupid kids thought it was fun to spy on her and ruin her life.

Then there was the staff Christmas party. The photos were hidden under 'friends only' and only showed us having a laugh and a drink. But kids got hold of them... et voila, we're all hauled into a meeting about not posting photos on line. Another teacher got hauled over the coals for posting 'inappropriate pictures' of herself after a parental complaint...  of her in her bikini on holiday. Me and my friend (another English teacher) were involved in a charity 'Teacher Strictly Come Dancing), where we moshed to Faith No More and the Boo Ya Tribe's 'Another Body Murdered' as our dance - the first time we knew it had ended up on You Tube was when the Press called the Head to ask what was going on.

It's a serious problem for us. We're getting told all the time about our 'responsibilities' when it comes to our charges and our private lives... but what about the kids? Isn't it about time someone turned round to them and said ' just pack it in'? My blood runs cold each time one comes up to me and says 'aww, that photo of Lucy was well cute'... excuse me? Are you stalking me or something? STAY OUT OF MY LIFE! I don't google you (and if I did, I'd probably be accused of being some kind of pervert), so don't google me! What is your fascination with me, any way? It's creepy!

So... sorry, Mr / Ms Agent - I am afraid that any potential google searches for my online activity are going to be seriously curtailed, because I'd have to be some kind of masochist to write an open blog right now...

It's almost a year since I first got on the Internet. The first thing I did was set up a Yahoo e-mail account; didn't have anyone to send e-mails to, or get e-mails from, but lots of people were kind enough to offer me penis enlargements etc. I surfed for stuff, like armoured personnel carriers and suchlike. Of course, I also checked out Internet porn, which I found a bit disappointing. I googled "fat lesbian mudwrestling", clicked on a likely-looking result - "BBW lesbians get down and dirty" - but what came up was "cum-guzzling college girls". Eh? I soon found (after just several hours) that you never get what you click on, which seemed a bit pointless. I also discovered a new kind of wanker's cramp: wanker's RSI, or wanker's carpal tunnel syndrome. So this is the Internet? Big deal! It was only when I found the WordCloud that I really started to get the point of it all.

Yesterday morning, I switched on the computer, ready to crack on with my latest novel. I got a message from my ISP, O2, to say that I was using an unfair amount of data, and that if I didn't stop they would cut me off. What?! I'm on a monthly contract, 3 Gigglybits data allowance, which I've never exceeded, not least because they charge a exorbitant amount for every MB you go over your monthly allowance. I spent a couple of hours going round in circles on their stupid website, and finally found a way to message their Customer Fuckyou Service. They'll reply in 24 hrs, apparently. I kerspect they'll cut me off, but keep taking money off me via the DD until the contract runs out in 8 months time.

After all that, I didn't feel much like writing, so I decided to buy a book I've been meaning to get, which you can only get online, straight from the publisher (while I've still got a Internet connection). I found that my credit card didn't work. Turned out, after much phone calls, it had been 'deactivated' cos I hadn't used it for over 12 months. After much more phone calls, I got it reactivated, but when I tried again to buy the book, it didn't work cos the account address didn't match the billing/delivery address. My own fault, I'd forgot to change the address after I moved. So I got onto Santander's website, and discovered I couldn't change the address online, or over the phone: I had to print out a form, and I can't even post it. I've got to take it to a branch (nearest is Barnet, half hour bus ride away) and the only ID they'll accept is a UK driving licence (if you don't drive, you're fucked) and of course I hadn't changed the address on that either. So it's off with me to the DVLA website, to find that you can change your address online, but if you want it changed on the actual licence itself, you have to post the damn thing off, which I did (on the way to the pub for some Liquid Therapy). I now have to wait till the DVLA send it back, get on a bus to Barnet and queue up at Santander's, then maybe I can finally buy the damn book.

Meantime, I didn't get any writing done, when I thought I'd be writing all day, and now I'm too hung over to concentrate properly. And I thought a computer would help me write! I'd be better off with a goose quill, parchment and ink made from burnt acorns.

I hate discussing politics and religion, but since I’ve broached the subject, you know I’m gonna.

I hate discussing it because I hate being told what to believe. I like to be given all the facts and then left alone to make up my own mind. I hate imposing my opinions on others. I am a bear of very little brain and find complex subjects hard to process, and thus fall to pieces when aggressively challenged and required to offer a quick defense of my beliefs and views.

I like blogs, because I can lay out my thoughts in an orderly and considered manner.

This doesn’t mean I will, though.

I found out about Distributism whilst reading up on G K Chesterton.

I’m sure you’ve all heard of it before, but briefly, and according to the mighty Wikipedia, Distributism is a ‘third-way economic philosophy’ which boils down to evenly distributing the apparatus of wealth-generation, rather than the wealth itself. It allows people to make money for themselves, but not too much. It encourages cottage industry and community spirit.

Whilst mulling it over, I also considered the future of English retail: A massive Tesco has opened in town, even though we already have one, plus a Sainsbury’s, Aldi, Morrison’s etc. Despite this, there’s always a queue outside our local butcher. Organic farm shops have sprung up like mushrooms. Half a dozen of my friends make and sell jewelry in their spare time, and people are falling over themselves to buy it. I can’t buy ‘good’ meat unless I get up at 6am and queue for half an hour, but I can buy mediocre meat twenty-four hours a day. Both my partner and I work full time to support our ‘lifestyle’, even though this only includes mediocre meat from Tesco after work. I slowly go crazy because I am told that this is the way things should be – because the alternative to Capitalism is Bad.

Anyway. I think the only reason I’ve never heard of Distributism (apart from my general obliviousness) is that it is heavily steeped in Catholicism, and I have been raised by Protestants. I am, in any case, skeptical of anything that has been grown in the flowerpot of religion.

It’s at about this point that I’d start blasting religion if I were the kind of person to do so. I’m not that kind of person.

Instead I will give the theory a fair trial, and ask myself how I would go about convincing a dedicated Capitalist that Distributism would be a good idea, without the backing of religion.

‘Respect for fellow man?’ – Hasn’t worked so far. ‘You’d get to spend lots of time in the garden, growing tomatoes?’ – Not everyone has green fingers. My skills rely firmly on computers and software – not really something that a cottage industry could support. I suppose you could re-train me in something manual, but I would miss designing. And writing. And surfing the interwebs. ‘Respect for nature and the countryside?’ – See response to argument one. ‘It’s fair – it gives everyone an equal chance in life, and a choice of product?’ – What’s fair about stopping me becoming a millionaire? I mean, I’d rather not work at all.

Hmm. I seem to have run out of arguments.

There are some other troubling points, too:

If you prevent anyone from becoming too rich, who could afford to fund scientific research? I might be happy to grow my own tomatoes, but I would also still want a cure for cancer. I might want to cruise around a Norwegian Fjord one day. Perhaps I would like to go to the Moon.

And people will always be greedy and stupid. Give a group of men* a bag of tools and one might use the hammer to hit another man over the head and steal all the rivets. Another might sell the screwdriver for drugs. One, possibly, might make himself a pair of shoes and be happy.

If someone were to ask me whether I considered myself a Capitalist, I’d reply ‘only by birth, dude’. If they were to ask me whether I considered myself a Communist, I’d look at them funny and say ‘seriously? We both know you can’t take away people’s incentive to work and expect them to do so anyway. We’re far too greedy and stupid for that.’

Despite all this, though, I find myself oddly drawn to Distributism in a happy-clappy kind of way. I feel it resonates with the general mood of the country – or at least, the bit of it that I’m sitting on. I can’t support it by way of argument, yet it seems reasonably sensible. It might not be a path that England chooses knowingly, and we seem to be both headed towards and away from it at the same time.

I don’t feel wise enough to get behind any movement in particular, so I might just sit on the fence for a while longer.

At least until I win the lottery.


*Or women.

Yes I forgot to make it public..crap!

Everything sucks! roll on the solar flare, life is horrible even when its good its bad, its crap, mankind is crap.
Those little cakes you get in boxes are crap.
Cheap pork pies....crap!
Healthy options...crap, what is a healthy option anyway?..crap that's what!
Exercise...crap!  Aimlessly peddling a stationary bike, or trawling up and down some lousy over chlorinated swimming pool, or running no fucking where on a bloody treadmill...yes you guessed it crap!
Driving ...crap! I spend 3 poxy hours a day driving to and from work, so what the hell do I do  on my day off?
I take the OH to stupid Bath to look at stupid duvets and we don't buy any stupid duvets and we get stuck in the stupid traffic...crap!
iphones, pods, tablets, megaliths, pebbles..crap! 
Bath..crap!
Duvets..crap!
Fake cream..crap!
The banking system..crap!
Work..crap! Why spend so much time doing something you hate?
I want to go back to being a drummer!
Not being a drummer any more..crap!
Getting old..crap!
Losing hair..crap!
Being fat..crap!
Stupid lists about how crap everything is..crap!
 

A good friend of mine has had a hand in organising the festival in the link. I thought it might be of in interest to some folk on the Cloud.
Gary

Condry Festival

Condry Festival Prices

Just back from a very interesting lunch with my agent, Bill Hamilton. We talked about a lot of things, some of which will no doubt be mentioned on this blog over the next few weeks.

But the main topic of conversation was our selling strategy on the two things we have on the boil just at the moment: my detective story on the one hand, and my non-fiction proposal on the storytelling instinct in humans on the other.

One of the lesser issues was timing, an area where Bill is impeccably professional. The easy thing to do would simply be to send the novel out. Any half-competent agent knows which editors at which houses deal with crime fiction, and getting an auction started doesn't have to involve much more than writing 8-10 names on 8-10 envelopes and going down to the local Post Office.

Except that it's three weeks before Frankfurt (*). Does that mean that editors are deluged? Or that they're hungry to snap up a deal before the Fair? There's no way to know except by asking, so Bill will call around and talk to editors first. He'll get a candid answer and adjust strategy accordingly. Simplicity itself, but not all agents would do it.

More interesting was our debate on titles. I quite like my working title for the detective novel: Battle Music. Tough but lyrical. A little bit classy. But Bill's response was brusque. 'The book needs to mention death. What's that TV series?' he asked. 'Talking to the Dead, or something like that. That's what your book is about, so that's what needs to be on the cover.'

I objected. If the title already belongs to a TV series (and I don't know if it does or it doesn't), then it won't be used by a publisher. Bill couldn't have cared less. The point is that any title we stick on the cover of a detective novel at this stage is just a gesture towards the kind of branding we're imagining on the finished product. The final decision will come together with cover design, blurb, shout line, and other such issues. The publisher genuinely couldn't give a monkey's what title we put on the cover at this stage - except that we might as well not confuse their internal discussions by putting on something that strikes the wrong notes, as apparently Battle Music did.

Our discussion on the storytelling book was totally different. There, the title is a critical part - nay, the critical part - of our pitch to publishers. A book on the storytelling instinct doesn't have a genre. Its sui generis and so the title / subtitle has to explain the appeal instantly and persuasively. It has to say to publisher, retailer and reader, 'Here is what this book is all about and here is why that matters to you' - and it needs to do so in about a dozen words.

I'm not especially good at these title challenges; I'd rather just write the book. But Bill is right as - damn the man! - he always is. So while he's a-selling the detective story, I'll be sucking the end of my pencil, scribbling titles, and watching my overflowing dustbin.

Happy times tho. There's nowt quite like getting ready to sell a book. Scary, but fun ....


* - Obviously on Planet Human you can't meaningfully talk about 'three weeks before Frankfurt', because 3 weeks is a time period, and Frankfurt is a place. On Planet Publisher, tho, Frankfurt is an event (a book fair) much more than a physical location.

While commenting on a blog by Secret Spi, Amarantha made a reference to the game of Consequences. A  splendid suggestion I thought and one which I think as a crowd we could try to do. If I may pinch the idea without causing offence I think we could generate something interesting. Do others on other sites do this? I have no idea and who cares if they do. I don't think anyone has suggested it on the cloud before either, but I'm ready to be put right on that too.

As I said in my own response to the SS blog, randomness needs some control. Therefore I propose some simple rules.

In the first place I suggest we operate this as a democracy. The first principle of democracy is one man one vote. I’m prepared to be that man.

Seriously, it’s just that there has to be an arbiter and I’m willing enough, although I would appeal for someone to volunteer to back me up from time to time as I may be busy, although I’ll do my best to kick it once a week at least.

Next - I propose is that I will generate 500 words or thereabouts to kick off the show. Each person, in the order that they add their names (see below), has four days to generate 500 words (say 480 to 520) that logically progress the story from where it was previously left off. Anyone that can’t perform in their time slot can either sign off or drop down the line for a later go.

You don’t start until you get a message to start.

There will be no plot outline and no influencing of the person that has the baton is allowed. It goes where it goes, but it must be logical from what has gone before.

In order to get it going I suggest we need a minimum of twenty participants to sign up, more if possible.

As we come towards the end of the list of volunteers it will be necessary to adopt a mode of bringing things to a conclusion.

As I mentioned earlier, I think it should be a democracy, so anyone subverting the idea, or being too profane for even me to tolerate, will be given a chance to rewrite, or simply be erased, following a short debate.

No making it impossible for the next person to pick up.

Finally, we should agree that should we actually produce something of any value then we aren’t going to argue about Rights. It’s a bit of fun, no more than that. In any event all Rights would be jointly owned by the participants. In the unlikely event that anything might make it to print, then any few coppers in profit shall be given to charity. I would suggest the Save the Children Fund but other suggestions welcome. Sorry, but we need to get that dealt with, just in case. But let’s not get carried away. I gave them a few quid the other month and I wouldn’t want them to get their hopes up for any more. Anyone participating agrees to that as a condition by agreeing to participate.

What we need now is a bunch of people to sign up. There is a convenient space below for names.

What do you all think? If it's a crap idea tell me that too. I can take it, honest I can:-)

The Two Worlds of Wellesley Tudor Pole

Ten days ago a U.S. publisher offered to publish a book I’d written some years back. This might make more sense if I tell the whole story.

Back in August 1990 as I lay dying (but apparently not quite) in the Aga Khan Hospital Nairobi, the book I had by my bedside was The Silent Road by Wellesley Tudor Pole. If you’re about to nip off into the Beyond it can help to have a few words of advice, and Wellesley Tudor Pole was a handy adviser. Wounded war hero (1917), London businessman, archaeologist, traveller and family man, he was also a mystic. A very accomplished mystic.

That was the bit I liked.

As I grew up there had been a feeling that spirituality was something that happened elsewhere, chiefly India, preferably sitting cross-legged whilst wearing a kaftan. Not so with Wellesley Tudor Pole (or, as he was often known, TP). He was a man of two worlds and seemed to function just as efficiently in Britain, albeit wearing suit and tie, as he did in the Beyond.

Ten years later I was recovering from some more surgery. It was less drastic this time, so I could take my time enjoying the convalescence. Maybe I enjoyed it too much because I got one of those surges of well-being that accompany returning health, and decided to write a biography of TP. No one else had done it and, well, didn’t everyone need to know about the wounded war hero, London businessman etc who could diddle off into the Beyond and have remarkable adventures?

Ah, the optimism of youth! (I was under fifty at the time.) I set to work, investing time, energy and a few thousand quid into research, collation of research, organisation of research, sewing together of research and eventual printing out of sewn-together research. And then – guess what – the first agent I contacted took it on. The agent in question, David Bolt, operated in somewhat quiet fashion, however, and I never really knew what he was getting up to, until – some time afterwards – he retired. (Hey, I hadn’t driven him to it, had I?)

So that was that for the time being. But a few years later I got irritated with all the books on bogus quests (da Vinci Code et al) and wondered if there was any publishing appetite for the real thing. So I wrote three commercially orientated chapters on TP and sent them off in a proposal package to likely agents and publishers. And what did I discover? There was no appetite for the real thing.

So that was that for a further time being. Then Chrissy persuaded me to set up a website, wellesleytudorpole.com  and post some material there. Okay, I gave it a go, and the website sat quietly in the aether for a few years, attracting a few visitors and even the occasional comment in its guest book.

Then, ten days ago, I got an email from a prominent New Age figure in America, saying he’d seen the website, as had his good friend, a publisher, and he’d found the extracts “very compelling and excellently written – real page turners.” In conclusion, they would like to publish The Two Worlds Of Wellesley Tudor Pole. So that’s what I’ve been busy on since, streamlining the rather meticulous original so it can read like a romp.

The moral of all this? Well have you heard the tale of the frog in the milk churn? He fell in and tried leaping out again, but the milk wasn’t solid enough to give a platform. He was a determined little froggy, however, and kept swimming around – and trying to jump – and swimming around – and trying to jump. And by morning he’d churned the milk into butter.

Then he leapt out.

I can’t claim to have got all my churning done yet. Biographies are fiddly things, and there are copyrights to track down and permissions to seek, but the milk is looking a lot more like butter.

(And if any fellow Cloudies feel they’ve been doing a bit of churning, then good luck folks – you never know where the next surprise might come from.)

Next up for my online course:

Staying alive: real poems for unreal times ed. by Astley

Abigail's Party - play on DVD, Mike Leigh

The latter is the one I saw the first time round back in the 1970s, so that jogged a few memories ...  Very 1970s indeed (Demis Roussos et al) so it's now a period piece - or is it? :)

Only one item missing now, due to the seller being rather tardy.  May have to go elsewhere for that - hope it's not the first book referred to ...

Signed in for the Virtual Learning Environment (VLE) so have spent a bit of time working out what's available.  One student (from Greece!) had already introduced herself at the Virtual Cafe, so I added my tuppence.  The first 'class' will be initiated on 4th October, and I'm dying to know how this is all going to work :)

It's part of my real job to be reasonably on the ball about new trends and developments in media and communications. Now and again I find something that overlaps with my unreal job as a writer. So here's a couple of things I found today that might be of interest to all those who've been gobbling up Harry's blogs about ebooks and the like.

But these make ebooks look like the Domesday Book.

First of all, there's something called The Institute for the Future of the Book.
Bob Stein of the institute is quoted as referring to "the future of the book as a meeting place, based around what it can offer to fans and people that want to participate."

Maybe he'll enter this month's Word Cloud Competition.

Participation, along with collaboration is a huge trend? thing? topic? - whatever, when it comes to talking about new media. So here's something new for writers: ThumbScribes - "a platform for collaboratively creating fiction." Here you can log on and "create content" with friends or complete strangers via the medium or channel of your choice.

Is this the shining new future? Or simply a sideshow of Digital Consequences?