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Monday

8/9/2014

 
Needs more decapitations and I feel that such large-gauge glitter is for dilettantes but I don't hate this.

Maybe it's my particular vintage but the yyys have always seemed just a wee bit too much like Siouxsie and Placebo's sheltered lovechild minus enough guitars to make me f... ff... forget.  So I just nod along to their shit rather than getting overexcited.  Karen gets points for maintaining her dignity when everyone else is flashing their cooter but that's a horribly judgemental and unfree thing to say these days, isn't it?  Lol.  Feminine agency, thirsty pussypopping... what's the difference?  I'm confused/get off my lawn.
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Did you enjoy that last piece in the TBO serialisation?  (see below)  It's one of my favourite passages.  I sat down and wrote it from scratch in about an hour so it's basically stream of consciousness, the opposite to my usual long-form MO which involves endless revision fuckery and twenty-six thousand drafts of every damn thing.  It's always humbling when you realise the stuff you just spat out like a pasta extruder is better than the bits you've been working for three years.  Helaine is possibly my proudest creative achievement, because she is so complex and whole, so unlike me (the less DNA you share, the easier they are to love) and yet so fucking authoritative; writing her feels 100 times more like transcription than invention.   I adore and fear her in equal measure because a lot of the second book is going to rest on her shoulders.  Writing a woman so genuinely central to her own expression and trajectory is an especial privilege.

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Demographically speaking, the Lovely R (he's the stat freak- looking at that shit makes me anxious) informs me that he thinks last week was our biggest ever with the record broken for both total visits and visitors, so that's better than a kick up the arse from a pointy shoe.  I'm not kidding about not wanting to know the size of the crowd, though.  Writing a blog is like being on stage with footlights up in your face so you can't do a headcount, and that's cool- no boob sweat, no last-minute runs.  Lovely R is the fucking promoter who leans out of the wing and says heeey, full house; that's when everything turns to frothy bowels and massive blanks.  But hey, at least no one can glass me and I don't have to brain anyone with a mike stand :)   Which would be irresponsible.  Anyways, thanks for spending time here.  Your reading my work is the only real reward a writer can ever receive.  Apart from money, but I don't think there's any danger of that.

Can't really say what's coming down this week.  I keep wanking on about Tiny Little Dinosaurs and it is in some sort of ebook form as we speak, but I can't get the fucking impetus up to post the little bugger.  Enjoy a chicken instead.  

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