What's Going On

Does anyone here remember me? I feel embarrassed to be posting after such a long silence. But I swear, I've been busy. I won a free place on an Urban Writers Retreat, and used it to finish my time slip novel and start an eco-thriller. In the meantime, I entered my screenplay of the Panopticon (adapted from my novel) into various competitions, where it did quite well. I then applied for a scholarship for the Rocaberti Writers Retreat. I was granted a 'partial scholarship'. Which, between you, me and the gate post, is unbearably cruel, as I now have to find the rest of the money. To that end, I've started a GoFundMe appeal: Donate to Pursuing my dream at a Rocaberti Writers Retreat, organized by Rachel Thornton
That's all for now. Please check it out. Thank you.

Robert Redford is dead. Didn’t really appreciate him enough at the time, yet in retrospect he seems like one of the giants of the screen. Feels like part of the best of America may have died, too… Or am I being too melancholic…?

I have a ridiculously early meeting in town today so won't be able to post the Daily News Update until I'm back, late afternoon.

Currently taking part in a self-imposed Writer's Protection Program (AKA break from writing).

Too long a story but basically, my dad died earlier in the year which unleashed (some expected) chaos to highjack my time and cloud my brain. I've also been busy with several on-line classes. I haven't written a thing since March. Can barley get a word out. Having said that, I managed to plot a new novel, but the actual writing just isn't happening yet. It's so frustrating. I'm now digging up two dusty WIPs to get back into writing mode.

Following on from Mel’s post, this chap landed on my knee yesterday, a Common Darter dragonfly. However, I was horrified to later learn of their utterly lewd behavior, and I quote: “Eggs are not laid, but broadcast from the air: the male holds the female in tandem and swings her down and forward over water. At the furthest point of the arc the female releases some of her eggs to fall on the water.” This sort of grossly immoral public display must surely be banned? Why restrict it to just books?

So let me explain what’s going on here. You’re looking at two male Ancistrus fish, South American vegan (of course!). Part of a shoal of about 20, all of whom have been with me for thirty years. The things they’re clustered round are Ancistrus fish eggs, and they are guarding, not eating, them. The female lays them then leaves it to the male (just one, usually!) to look after them as they develop, involving a lot of fin fanning to keep the water flowing around them and thus prevent rot. Hopefully, these two males are good friends since the baby fish, when they emerge, will have two fathers!

The Author Platform is undergoing some design quirks at the moment and isn’t looking its best. This is temporary and we’re on it.

Quite an epic evening last night. A large male and a large female turned up. I was on my new viewing plinth, about five feet up. They had fun for 20 mins or so finding the peanut stashes I’d left. Then the (highly intelligent!) male worked out that the motionless creature draped in black, on the plinth, had a bowl of peanuts at his feet. It took him 5 more mins to work out how to get up onto the platform (he came in from the back, I was frozen still the whole time). Then, very deliberately, he came up, gave me a long stare, then proceeded to very carefully smell every inch of my trousers! So that’s what a human smells like... I’ve been entered into his smell-memory. It was, frankly, awesome

For my fellow Litopians, a little thing I spotted this morning on Threads:
Irish author Sally Rooney is being threatened by the British government with up to FOURTEEN YEARS in prison for saying she would donate the proceeds from her book to Palestine Action. If you're an author this should concern you. If you're anti-fascist, this should concern you. If you're anti-genocide, this should concern you. If you value free speech, human rights, and liberty, this concerns you.

"So, how did you sleep.?"

"I had weird dreams."

"Yeah?"

"I met the Loch Ness monster."

"..."

"She's really sarcastic, and was complaining in this really thick Scots brogue about how people are always interrupting her water yoga. Turns out that's what the rows of humps are."

"..."

And after!

Before... (waiting for badgers)...(with sweetcorn...)

Will be inviting more folk to join the Author Platform very soon, get ready

So I read somewhere that “badgers love sweetcorn!” Seemed highly improbable to me, but to test, I left a cob out last night on the usual badger plinth. This was the result this morning – case closed! They sure had a good party last night...

Two nights ago, she's found my peanut stash. I suspect she may be pregnant...?

Don’t judge me, but I’m bunking off work now (3pm) to tidy up the badgers’ part of the wood...

Software updates have now finished.

First contact, about an hour ago

Freddie Forsyth is dead. Author of The Day of the Jackal and more of that ilk. As dodgy a character in real life as any in his books. Like Jeffrey Archer, wrote thrillers for the home county set. End of an era – end of a profitable genre too, perhaps.

Hastings this am...