It’s been a while since I last wrote, in the meantime my head has been filled with new systems, many acronyms, and more knowledge than I actually need to know but which hovers at the periphery of my vision, a teetering tower of figures and facts poised precariously waiting for my brain to freeze up.
This is pleasantly offset by the relaxing atmosphere and access to the internet when I manage to get in early. This is, naturally, complicated by the fact that I have been firing off emails to all manner of accounts with blog post drafts and am now confused with where all the different parts are.
To sum up, normal service will be resumed soon. In other news, I had my hair cut so now I don’t resemble a homeless Belgian man, and have recently discovered the delights of Korean drama, of which soon there will be a review, once I finish it. Visiting your blogs will happen soon as well, the usual assurances apply.
Although the summer has had a less than stellar start, with plenty of wind and rain, there is always something to warm the heart and in this instance, aside from being back in the Motherland, its reacquainting myself with those books that didn’t make the journey to Ph with me but were stored carefully away for my return.
A fine selection of eclectic works I am sure you will agree, and just as many were lurking out of shot so there will be some surprises too. It’s an exciting time and with the weekend here I am looking forward to plunging into something either new to me or nostalgic, and most importantly not yet reviewed.
The universe is overwhelmingly made up of things that cannot be seen. In fact, the stars, planets and galaxies that can be detected make up only 4 percent of the universe, according to astronomers. The other 96 percent is made up of substances that cannot be seen or easily comprehended – but how can it be possible when one father-to-be’s universe revealed his 100 percent to us?
It’s his first father’s day! I know that some people won’t consider that you are already a father when the baby is not yet born but I do.
Today, I want to honor and thank the man who gave his entire universe to me and the people (and dogs) that I love. To my best friend, my husband, and father of my baby, thank you for giving all that you can for me and our baby (fur babies: Rambo, Rexie, Claire, Hurley, and Sawyer)…
Today I came across an email with the title, How many poems do you write? Quality vs Quantity. As a moderately interesting subject heading it seemed worth a couple of minutes perusal as an accompaniment to my breakfast of coffee and pandesal.
The email asked if poets and readers favour the raw poem as first written, or an edited version, which may be technically better but dilutes some of the immediacy of the original writing.
It then went on to mention that a question often asked is how do I get published in the print journals? The short and underwhelming response to that bein; nobody really knows, its all subjective, people on blogs and websites won’t be judging to anything like the same criteria as journals.
It’s a shame there was no real point to the email, as asking and then avoiding any real exploration of the question (but inviting you to hop over to the website to discuss it) just wastes everyone’s time. Continue reading “Quality or Quantity?”
Picking up my – then – latest read, Alberto Manguel’s A Reading Diary: A Year of Favourite Books, it soon became clear that I needed a new notebook to scrawl my thoughts in, such were the number. Thankfully the missus had just such a book ready for me, she knows my needs.
After the mini trauma of filling my last notebook it feels good to be able to be expansive again, as opposed to clumsily noting down phrases on a phone whose keyboard is ill suited to my fat fingers. Sadly, the joy of writing is one often marginalised in the modern technology orientated world.
Enjoying the pristine whiteness of the pages, there was just one thing I had to do first, before inking any of them. On the inside front cover the words ‘I have a dream’ were printed, so below them I added ‘this book belongs to Martin Luther King, Jr.’.
Hilarity thus achieved I left the first page – I always allow myself this small luxury in case appropriate words come to mind to place there – and the second became the start of my copious note taking.
Ploughing through book lover Manguel’s words with a happy heart, I’ve already made a page of notes, some of which will probably be left out of the review for another post – or several – musing on books. With twenty-two drafts started just this morning, words are begetting words in the best possible way.
It’s been a while since I last posted, but in the brief time taken off, lots has happened.
first off, work has been taking up most of my time. I am now working for a second book publisher, Shadow Alley Press. The opportunity came out of the blue, but grabbing it with both hands, it promises lots of tight deadlines and a good stream of work, which is handy as I am not averse to grabbing a coffee at 10pm to power through to the early hours, if needs be.
We are also heading back to England for a time, at the end of May, so getting a visa for Crissy was a necessary distraction. This was by far the most frustrating waste of time and money.
VFS Global are notorious for their terrible service. The barriers we faced were, a website that logged us out automatically (and constantly) meaning we couldn’t book an appointment with them. This was sorted after countless attempts on their poor excuse for a website. When the visa arrived it was the wrong one, there was no phone number for the UK, it turns out that it doesn’t have a number (but numbers for Malta, Netherlands, etc are available). Only bots ‘answered’ our messages on their website and social media. Randomly turning up at their offices they acknowledged their mistake, nevertheless we had to buy an envelope for them to send the passport back to the British embassy for correction. Then we find out their policy is to not deliver the visa to our door despite the mistake being theirs. Continue reading “Plans and Planes”