Misty, Water-Coloured Memories…

If your life does indeed, flash in front of your eyes before you die,  it probably doesn’t do so indiscriminately. I don’t believe it’s random: there must be a greater purpose to it all. All of those moments that make up your life – thousands upon thousands of mental snapshots – swarm in, jostling for attention. So which moments do you listen to?

Forty years – or however long you’re here for – crammed into a veritable finger-snap of sensory overload. And in that fraction of a second that you can’t even begin to comprehend… all the highs and lows that made you who you are. Who you were. Those moments you wish weren’t there, and the ones you wish would never end.

Sometimes they crowd you and you can’t stop them, no matter how hard you try.

Here’s one of mine…

101_8614

He’s one of the happy ones.

 

Mork Goes Home…

RW

Robin Williams on addiction:

“It waits. It lays in wait for the time when you think; it’s fine now, I’m okay. Then, the next thing you know, it’s not okay.”

Of course, that could very easily apply to his own struggles with depression over the years. One moment you feel the sun against your back, and the next you’re trying to outrun the stormclouds.

But some of us get caught in the rain.

Rest quietly, buddy.

Nanu nanu.

I Still Call Them Chips…

Chips

Been a while, hasn’t it?

My flash piece, Would You Like Fries With That? is up today at Saturday Night Reader, an online magazine with a soundtrack. It’s a brief, lightly humourous piece about the trials and tribulations of ordering a simple burger. It’s not too far removed from reality either – which always makes for the funniest situations – and I’m sure most of you can relate to Sam’s frustration in The Burger Barn.

Enjoy.

No, I Don’t Mean Those Guys in Lycra…

Panda

At work, we receive an emailed newsletter every week. Amongst other items it includes policy shifts, new starts, and charity drives, but the only part that I ever read is the ‘interview’, where one employee is asked a bunch of fairly pedestrian and innocuous questions under the guise of ‘getting to know them better’. This week, it was the turn of a girl from our Edinburgh office, and amongst the regular responses, was this:

Dislikes : Pandas, large crowds, repetitive and annoying sounds.

Seriously?

Who on earth dislikes those cute, sad-eyed creatures that are currently on the endangered species list because people have a penchant for cutting down trees in all the wrong places? Perhaps one mauled her when she was a child – I guess that would make sense.

But then, perhaps she isn’t referring to those fluffy WWF mascots after all. Maybe she’s talking about the car, you know, the Fiat Panda. The one that looks like a lunchbox.

Yeah, probably that. I dislike them too.

Brought to You by the Letter H…

It’s my birthday today.

birthday

When I was eight I wanted a Scalextric set – the one with more pieces than I knew what to do with. They were all the rage when I was a kid and most of my friends had at least one box under their bed, collecting dust.

When I was thirteen I wanted a portable cassette player. It had to be a twin tape though, so I could record my own mixes and then walk around with the machine on my shoulder like they did in the movies.

When I was twenty-two I wanted a PlayStation, because most of my friends had one and games had never looked so good. Ever.

But now I’m a few years older, and material possessions don’t really cut it these days. I got all of those things and more. I played with my Scalextric set until I lost most of the track; played my cassettes until the tape got stuck in the wheels and snapped; and well, now we’re onto the PlayStation 4, and games have never looked so good. Ever.

The only things that really matter in this world are hope, health, and happiness.

So yeah, give me some of that please.

Caught in a Landslide…

My 1,400 word fantasy piece, The Beast of Broken Rock, has been published over at T. Gene Davis’s Speculative Blog, and is – as most people would understand the genre – the first traditional fantasy story I have put out there. It’s not a style I feel very comfortable writing in, as I’ve never really been taken with the elves and wizards that typifies the tropes of the genre. But, for the most part, I managed to avoid those standards and write something that felt a little more comfortable.

Have a read and let me know your thoughts.

Grumpy Old Man (Items 26 – 30)…

All right, it’s been a little while, so here are a few more of those annoying little quibbles…

  • Spam emails. While I appreciate the internet’s desire to increase my length and/or girth, I am satisfied with my current dimensions and would like to go at least one month without having to unsubscribe to yet another website promising to maximise my potential and/or performance.
  • Text speak in any other form of written communication is simply unacceptable. C u l8r m8 is hard enough to stomach at the best of times, so please don’t put it in an email or – God forbid – handwrite it in a note or letter.
  • Small talk. What particularly annoys me are those people who pass by and say, how are you? because I’m never quite sure if this is an invitation to answer, or if they’re just trying to be polite. Should I be stopping to respond, or does the fact that they have carried on walking mean they don’t really give a shit about how I am? It seems to me that a simple hello performs the same role, and doesn’t leave me feeling ignored at the same time.
  • Bruce Forsythe. Nice to see you, to see you…. no, not really. Not anymore, Brucie. It hasn’t been nice to see you since the heady days of The Generation Game back in the seventies and eighties, and even then, your silly ‘jokes’ were at least two generations out of date. You need to retire. Now. Before God does it for you.
  • Women who wear really short skirts and then spend at least eighty percent of their time pulling said skirt towards their knees. How about you wear clothes that fit and that you are comfortable in? Does that sound like common sense to you? I keep hearing that the female is the smarter sex, but sometimes I have to wonder…*

*Opinions that appear to border on misogyny are included merely for their baseline comic value, and do not reflect those of the author.

Breaking Dexter…

Two of the most popular TV shows of the last decade – Dexter and Breaking Bad – had, until February, passed me by. I knew of their existence and, in the case of the latter and according to many, was aware I was missing one of the greatest television shows ever produced.

Breaking Dexter

But in February I found them, and yesterday I watched the final episodes of both. Eight seasons and 96 episodes of Dexter; five seasons and 62 episodes of Breaking Bad. That’s a lot of TV.

Dexter is about a man who starts as a monster and gradually becomes more human as the series progresses; Breaking Bad is the complete opposite, with Walter White as the meek chemistry teacher who transforms into, well… a pretty despicable guy by the time the show wraps.

Both made for excellent television, and at times they both soared to heights rarely achieved by TV drama (Season Four of both were fantastic viewing). Dexter fluctuated far more often between fantastic and filler, whereas Breaking Bad was a much more consistent offering. Dexter is certainly quicker and arguably the more exciting; Breaking Bad however is more rooted in reality and aware of its own history.

But ultimately they are completely different shows, and for that reason, there’s little value to be had in saying one is better than the other. I’m only bringing them both together here because they shared my world and my sofa for the last couple of months.

So, is Breaking Bad the greatest television show ever made?  No. It’s certainly very good, and it compares favourably to almost anything else out there, but at no point did I really consider it a contender for Best Ever. It would probably scrape top ten.

But hey, I’m just one lone voice. I still like Knight Rider, so what do I know? I am certainly in the minority about Walter and his meth empire. There are tens of millions who disagree with me, and they’re certainly more vocal about their love than I am about my indifference.

 

 

 

A Glimpse Into the Mind Of…

Dark Moon DigestIn conjunction with my short horror story, A Week in the Life Of…being published as a part of Issue 15 of Dark Moon Digest, I was asked by the editor to answer (briefly) a few questions as part of their promotion. There’s nothing too probing or personal in there – so don’t expect me to tell you where I’ve hidden the bodies – but it’s an interesting addition to the publication itself. You can read the interview here.

The magazine has been released, and is currently available directly from the website, or from Amazon.

Grumpy Old Man (Items 21 – 26)…

It would be interesting to see how many of these you agree with. I can’t be the only one who had (until now) an unwritten list of things that make me sigh…

  • Sprouts. It’s a fact. Nobody actually likes them, and anyone who says they do are part of the conspiracy. The human body is just not designed to accept such things as food.
  • Ditto for Red Bull. It smells like vomit, and doesn’t taste much better.
  • People who park their 4x4s across two spaces (usually at the supermarket), because they are worried their precious car will get scratched if they only use one. You should know that this type of inconsiderate behaviour only encourages vandalism. Nefarious characters will go out of their way to key your vehicle, and I can’t say I blame them.
  • People with personalised licence plates, especially those ones with only tenuous links to actual names. Why do you feel it necessary to tell me who you are anyway? Are you that insecure? Or is it so that if I meet you in the street I can say: hey, FF11ONA. You’re that idiot who paid three hundred quid for a plate that nobody can understand, right?
  • Men (because it always is) who drive around in convertibles with the top down when it’s not a nice day. Stop showing off: we can all see you. And we all think you’re a twat.

This is perhaps a good place to say that if I know you and one or more of these items hits you square in the face, it’s never too late to change.