Bye, bye Hughie

                My wonderful big brother, Hughie, was cremated a couple of weeks ago. I can't really do justice to him here, but he was my brother and I loved him and now he's gone. Sometime I'll write something about Hughie and his effect on my life, but maybe this isn't the time yet.

               Two good things, I know about, happened for me this year. Once was finishing The Buddha, The Dakini, and The Dirty Old Man, In the six months since I finished it, I haven't managed to get anyone in the book business to read even the first three chapters, which is all they want to see if they don't know you. But that's okay. The writing is the thing. Becoming something is not what it's about when you're a septuagenarian. Wanting to become something is for young people. 

              The other good thing was the heat. All the time, it's coming. It's a false alarm. It's an intimation. Well, now it's evident in almost the first vase breath.

                How crap is this when it arrives just as the flatheids come loose from their positions and you have to attend to all the drunkenness of this time of year, and all the people, and everyone is fucked up in some way or other. I don't like "holidays". To me, I have to have a holiday from all the things I like and deal with the fucked up who are too dumb to meditate.

                I became an Irish citizen this year. Tomorrow I might take possession of an Irish passport. Begorrah! Our time will come. Maybe in Belgium. 

                My brother died at 84. This is a very good age. I want to die at 84, or 93 when my maw and my auntie Kathy, and Mrs Bowman died. But 84 would be great.

                Some people are hitting this blog regularly from Holland. Happy New Year to yous when it comes. The troll who keeps trying to leave ugly comments here can go fuck himself.

     ====

 

Another no progress report on literary agents

                     The photie was picked at random. It's from New York in a budget hotel around nine years ago.

                        I still haven't heard a cheep out of any London agents. Not a cheep! I must have sent out about thirty emails over the last couple of months, but it's so far been the waste of time I thought it might be. But I didn't think I'd hear nothing. This is not a problem for me, but if I was a young person hoping to become a novelist ... well, I don't know what you'd do if you didn't know anyone in the business. The only response I did get was from someone who said The Buddha, The Dakini, and The Dirty Old Man wasn't for them. They had only been sent three chapters, so I don't know if they'd even read any of them. No one has asked to see the book.

                        This is reminiscent of trying to sell books for 10 to 14 year olds, which I tried to do about fifteen years ago. I wrote two books, got kids at the school I worked at to read them, fill in questionnaires, and rate the books. Anyway, despite have books published, plays produced, and working as a school librarian ... never got anyone in the business to read them either. You need an agent. If you can't get an agent to read them ....

                       There's eleven books of mine on Kindle. They don't get downloaded much these days, but since there were put up, there has been 12,333 downloads, but the most downloaded at 1,879 is Bugtown, one of the 10-14 years old books. I do find that a bit odd.

                        I loved writing Bugtown. I took a leaf from the creators of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles since they said they just made something that had all the ingredients afloat in the teenage consciousness .... like turtles, Ninja and mutants.

                        For Bugtown I thought, well, dinosaurs, castles, time travel, alien abduction and bugs from the future.

                        Anyway, I like writing and it's time I started on something else. This time ...mysticism, sci-fi, Gnosis, a crime thriller escape story with lots of doubts about what is reality or what is really happening. Maybe a kind of Bugtown book for adults, but without any sex whatsoever since I've done that. Maybe set it in a gigantic space ship about the size of the moon which the inhabitants think is all there is. Some preliminary ideas. 

                        I'll keep sending out a couple of emails a week about The Buddha, The Dakini and The Dirty Old Man. I know it's a waste of time, but it doesn't take me long to do that.

No Progress Report on Agents

 

            I sent the first emails to London agents on the 7th of October. That might be four weeks ago. Must have sent maybe twelve emails ..... and I haven't had any kind of reply at all. It's been over a decade since I last was hustling agents, but I think the responses then were a bit quicker. 

           Anyway, yesterday I started sending emails to London literary agents about the two crime books I now have in stock. I got a response right away from someone who told me I hadn't sent the books. 

            It says on some of the websites for agencies that they will get back to you within eight or twelve weeks, and if you haven't heard anything from them by then, forget it. There used to be things called "slush" piles before everything got digitised. It's stuff that hasn't been commissioned by the publisher. No one got published off slush piles. I don't think back in the day anyone at all got a young adult book published from a slush pile. It's all done through agents .... the slush pile has moved.

            Anyway, I'll just keep on pitching for a couple of hours a week, some afternoon, and see if I get lucky. I don't really care about the crime books, but it would be nice if I could get anyone in the book business to read The Buddha, The Dakini, and The Dirty Old Man. Of course, we don't always get what we want. Mare dukkha.

First Emails to London agents

                        About three months after finishing The Buddha, The Dakini, and The Dirty Old Man, I finally got around to sending emails to literary agents in London. I'll list them here. I don't expect to get much from an email. I sent them all three chapters. Here's who I sent the emails to:

Simon Trewin

Madeleine Milburn

Peter Straus

Zoe Waldie

Marilias Avvides

Putting this on my blog might help me stick with it. I lack enthusiasm for this. I like writing.

 

Three Day Fast

                         I weighed in at nearly thirteen stone and that is one fat basturn, so I went on a three day water fast last week. Lost four pounds, but I was really keen on fasting because it's just about the only thing that stops me drinking beer in the evenings!! Anyway, I've done these fasts several times before and it's really not that difficult once you've got you mind set. That's the hard bit.

                        Any purification jump starts the meditations. On the last evening, I was sitting in this kitchen and doing vase breathing and the .... it was like previously there had been a breeze as an after effect and now it was a bit of a hurricane! This slightly freaked me out and I had to wonder whether this was really for me, or not. And did I have any choice at this stage in the game. 

                        On Thursday evening I was off the fast and thought I'd get back on the four wee cans of Bud routine instead of meditating in the evening. Towards the end of the evening, I found an email from Lama Rinchen with a ticket for flight to Brussels enclosed. We'd been talking about me going to Belgium at this time, but I thought it was a non-starter and had made other arrangements. It seemed weird to get this right then and I had to sleep on it before I replied in the affirmative. Seemed like a weird coincidence.

                        The lama asked for a copy of The Dirty Old Man book which made me smile. Nuns weren't really in the target demographic. She probably won't read it. Another friend asked to read it.

                         Apart from that, nothing is happening with the book. Yellow Kite didn't want to look at it and I haven't tried to get an agent in London yet. Trying to get an agent is worse than going to work! I really should at least try for a couple of hours a week, but ... I'll spend a wee while doing that soon.

                           I love fires. I had to cut back a buglia and had to set the branches on fire. Apart from collecting some dead leaves to spread over it, that's the end of the allotment stuff for this year. Here comes the winter!

Letter to a publisher

 

                    I gave Stan from the North till Friday and I still haven't had any word from him about The Buddha, The Dakini, and The Dirty Old Man so I thought I'd do a wee bit of book publishing research.

                    I checked on meditation books and found one by Gelong Thubten, called Handbook of Difficult Times, which I will order today. It is published by someone called Liz Gough at Yellow Kite books, an imprint of Hodder and Stoughton. In the Bookseller reference, it said she bought the rights off the author. I assume that means he hasn't an agent. 

                    I prepared an email to send to Liz Gough this morning, but I haven't been able to get one through. Folk like her will get hundreds of book proposals every week, and the chance of getting someone to pay attention to an email from someone they've never heard of is probably remote, but you've got to try and make an effort. 

                     My spiritual friend in Belgium has a teaching day on her schedule at Beaumont for this guy so when I've given up on Liz Gough, I'll try to find out more through my wee lama.

                    All the emails sent to Liz Gough have bounced. I also sent it to Hachette enquiries an hour or so ago, so I'll wait a couple of days before starting to chase my tail again. Anyway, here is the email:

Hi Liz Gough,

                     I've recently finished what seems to be a very funny memoir about my experiences in meditation and my connection with the Samye Ling. 

                     The Buddha, The Dakini, and The Dirty Old Man has zeitgeist written all over it. The Buddha in the title refers to the abbot of the Samye Ling, the dakini is my girlfriend and the book is about much more than meditation. Sex for old folk, menopause, porn, quantum mechanics, mindfulness, but what will sell it is the fact that the folk who've read it for me so far thought it was funny. Jane King Hippolyte   and I had this exchange over the book.

                    

 She wrote on FB about her man, Kendel is laughing out loud at the first chapter. I asked what she'd found funny about it. She wrote:

It's the Catholic upbringing chapter. And to be fair, the whole book is kind of funny, which is mainly a tone thing. But ask Neil Gaimon, all the torture in the name of love is hysterical. Not to mention the heathens getting chucked out of limbo.

The first person to read the book sent this to me:

I FUCKIN loved the book!

The title intrigued me from the start - you dont hear much about the dakinis! It took me a while to work out the heathen girlfriend is the dakini???!!!! wow - I mean , I get it if I were her it is a bit close to the bone but jeez john what a wonderful description of the 3 glass psychotic syndrome - beautifully observed - I could see myself. HOWEVER the inner heat the inner heat - well blow me down with a feather , right enough I have been experiencing it for 15 + years easy but not till the moment that you spoke about the irony of sitting next to a spontaneously boiling dakini did I recognise it as a blessing, have a giggle and breathe out!

You manage to get some of that esoteric stuff across in the most enjoyable readable terms - im inspired to have a go at the vase breathing myself now i know i can produce the inner heat haha! The anecdote of the WHACK was alsomagnificently done -

The carryons are delightful and It´s also just a lovely wee record of the development down the years of the Samye Ling centre - so well done indeed amigo!

Jane King Hippolyte also sent this to me in an email:

I don't see why this book should not be publishable. Especially now, when most people have been told to meditate or to try mindfulness even if they have no clue what it is. 

Did you read Arun Sood's New Skin for the Old Ceremony: A Kirtan? That would probably be the closest to yours in genre. I met him last year - he's young, Scottish and Muslim, which is an interesting combination. 

I was very absorbed by your book. It felt like a real person talking, and a real set of philosophical and spiritual questions being dealt with very seriously but not at all academically, which is really unusual and very refreshing. The only other writer I know who regularly steps up to these questions is Neil Gaiman, who I totally love. But he turns all the answers into comedy, whereas you have kept the journey real. Congratulations.

I just finished this book a month ago. I haven't tried to get an agent yet. It said in the Bookseller that you bought the rights of Handbook of Difficult Times off the author. So I assume you don't have to be approached through an agent. Want to read the book?

                    You must get hundreds of emails at day. Hope you read this one. Anyway, all the best. John McKenzie

5.50 p.m.

Some angel at Hachette's submissions forwarded the email to Liz Gough. I said if she published it, I'd buy Rachel a bunch of flowers!!

                    Someone who visits this blog sent me a very nice review although I only sent her three quarters of the book. This is typical. When she told me that, I had to re-send the book to Stan the Man, an agent. He hasn't gotten back to me yet, but that's okay. Here's what she said. I'm sure she won't mind me inserting it here.

I FUCKIN loved the book!

The title intrigued me from the start - you dont hear much about the dakinis! It took me a while to work out the heathen girlfriend is the dakini???!!!! wow - I mean , I get it  if I were her it is a bit close to the bone but jeez john what a wonderful description of the 3 glass psychotic syndrome - beautifully observed - I could see myself. HOWEVER the inner heat the inner heat - well blow me down with a feather , right enough I have been experiencing it for 15 + years easy but not till the moment that you spoke about the irony of sitting next to a spontaneously boiling dakini did I recognise it as a blessing, have a giggle and breathe out!

You manage to get some of that esoteric stuff across in the most enjoyable readable terms - im inspired to have a go at the vase breathing myself now i know i can produce the inner heat haha! The anecdote of the WHACK was alsomagnificently done -

The carryons are delightful and It´s also just a lovely wee record of the development  down the years of the Samye Ling centre  - so well done indeed amigo!

In the version you sent me, chapter 16 ends 

                The reader hasn't gotten back to me yet, so maybe the end effed it up for her. Because of her impressions, someone in St Lucia asked to see that book. That was about ten days ago, so no word from her either. The first person to read it was someone I was on pilgrimage with in India and she said it was "really good". The first person I sent it to was a friend of mine, someone I've known for ever, but she never got back to me so it wasn't for her, or she deleted it, or ...

                I wasn't able to send the book to Luath Press since I don't have a printer these days, but they are hosting readings from their authors next Sunday morning, so I got notice of this in my emails a couple of days ago. I guess I'm on one of those lists. No problem going. It's free.

                I came to write this post because of the change in the meditations. The dial has definitely moved. It like something gradually "opening".  You can feel the change in the after-effects of the vase breathing, but just sitting there is a bit different: more bliss. Hard to describe this kind of thing, but I sent my friend in Belgium an email about this change.  

                While this was going on at the start of last week, I was having the worst time psychologically. I was not a happy bunny. And in this condition it is hard to calm the mind. The development in the inner heat stuff seems to be ongoing despite anything I feel about life otherwise. Anyway, there was a story about Marpa, the guru of Milarepa, having depression. I couldn't realise how you could be enlightened and depressed, but I've got a better insight to that now.  The meditation sessions won't make up for you living your life like a moron. And the after effects of being an idiot are going to leech in. 

                    I've been to four plays in the Fringe. The best one by far was The Grand Opera House Hotel, which was brilliantly performed and most enjoyable.

News about the bliss and all that jazz

 

                    Sometimes you think you should mark the day. There were two interesting things concerning the meditations today.

                     The easiest thing to talk about is the bending forward and straightening up. I used to do this and was surprised at the amount of bliss that occurred when I did this. Just assume the position and after meditating for a bit, lean forward and straighten up. It's a matter of degrees. I was surprised when it first appeared in the long ago, and because it's not supposed to be about the bliss ... today I did a bit of leaning forward and straightening up, and was flooded, flooded with bliss. Just whackeroni.

                    Every now and again, the jump in the juju happens. For years and years I've been getting intimations about the heat. They come and go, and nothing is certain, nothing stable. But today for a few seconds I got the warmth you might expect when you can dry off wet sheets and all that. Well, I'm sure I got that today, but only three or four seconds of it. It's an inner heat, but it's an overall kind of heat, and not something going up your central channel. Tomorrow I don't suppose I'll get it again, but it's now on the menu.

                    Everything else is crap. You have to keep everything down to concentrate on this stuff. Your life should be a bit boring. That's why you should be on retreat. There are two things to take into consideration. The usual joe. The meditations don't like that stuff. The usual joe is out looking for sweeties. Or not, in my case, during the week. Right now, I'm a bit stir crazy. I'm dying to do something else. Tomorrow I get into weekend mode and I'm really looking forward to it. 

                    I'm not bothered about the books. The Dirty Old Man has been written. That's enough. I don't think anyone has read it except for my Polish friend. Another friend might have read it, but she said bugger all about it, so ... Getting books published doesn't make you happy. I'm just pleased to have written them.

                    The weird raspberries in the photie were eaten today. Whoever hits on this blog from Etten, hello.

Minor movements in hustling The Buddha, The Dakini, and The Dirty Old Man.

 

                        I got an email from LR Price Publications this morning. Last week I got one and before I opened it, felt disappointed. One assumes rejections. Anyway, I did not like my reaction. It's a hustle hustling books!! Why bother? Well, it's easier if you think the book might do some good and you might in a rather unlikely scenario be able to donate some dosh to someone who wouldn't spend it in the pub.

                        Anyway, it wasn't an outright rejection. They seem to have a hierarchical system where someone a bit more senior looks at it next, kind of thing. The book seems to have gotten through the first couple of filters and now they say they'd like to do the book, but want me to cough up some of the money. Vanity publishing? I wouldn't mind putting some money in if I could have a guarantee that the book would quickly make it back, but if that was the case, why would they talk about sharing costs?

                         And they made a mistake. Part of their calculation seems to have been that the book had been in the public domain (I assume someone had a look at my Kindle page), but it hasn't been. So I told them about this in my reply and maybe they'll get back to me. I don't expect them to change their offer.

                        So I looked up the list of Scottish publishers. The top of the list is Canongate, but I assume you can't approach them without having an agent. The next one down was Luath Press, so I decided to contact them. They have a preliminary submissions form. Having spent twenty minutes or so hustling, I reckon that's enough for a couple of says. I haven't heard anything from Stan yet about the thrillers.

                        I was looking down the fiction list for Luath and came across several books by Des Dillon. When I was a school librarian, I bought multiple copies of Me and My Gal, which is a brilliant book about kids in Coatbridge. You sometimes wonder what happened to people. Well, he's got several books published by Luath Press. 

                        I've decided to try reading  novels again and may well read something by Des Dillon. I finished A Farewell to Arms last week (took me weeks to read it!) and I don't think I'd read that before after all. Just reminded me of how good Ernest Hemingway is. I've just started The Plague by Albert Camus and bought The Problems of Philosophy by Bertrand Russell. First chapter is entitled Appearance and Reality. Right up my street.

                        I found the photie of the head stand in Central Park from eight years ago. FFS, I was at least a stone and a half lighter!!

                         

The Fox and I.

 

                    I've fed the fox a couple of times. Sometimes he walks by. I've given him dog food three times in the last couple of weeks on the grounds that I prefer foxes to rabbits.

                    I'm hoping that reporting on my feeble efforts to get a literary agent might stimulate better efforts. In the last three weeks, I've sent out four emails to agents and got no positive responses. In fact, I didn't get any response from

Daisy Chadley of Peters, Fraser and Dunlop.

Stan from the Northern Literary Agency

Fraser Ross Associates.

Jenny Brown Assocs did reply, saying that they weren't taking submissions right now. That's okay. If I could get a quick response, I could continue searching.

                    Can't say my heart is in this searching for an agent business. That's practically all I've done in three weeks. Dearie me.

Tonight 23/6/23 ... I got an email from Stan saying he'd look at the two books. I sent him three since I didn't know which two books he wanted. But it doesn't matter. What matters is that I don't have to send out any emails to anyone about getting an agent for a couple of weeks anyway. So well done, Stan. 

                       I think I'll have to think of something else to write a book about. Where do you get your ideas from?

How tentative about getting an literary agent can you get?

Daisy Chadley at Peter's, Fraser and Dunlop didn't reply to the first email I sent to anyone in this quest to find a literary agent. Wasn't it always thus! If they'd just look at it and then reply with a no thanks.

                    You think you should just send one email at a time, and wait for a reply, and be a good soldier. Well, maybe that's not the way the world works. However, after sending one email into the cyber void, I'm not quitting yet. I'll send another one when I can find the time ... I had more time when I was working because I tried not to do any work and if you do that, you've got plenty of time to fill. These days there aren't enough hours in the day for the stuff I want to do.

                    I also sent a copy of The Buddha, The Dakini, and The Dirty Old man to somebody, LR Price Publications. They have this big advert when you ask for manna from heaven on the computery thing, and you talk to the machines, and it might be something you'd do because it's got a big advert.

                    I'll have to stop being half arsed about this, but it's hard to find the time.

                     It was too hot today to sit outside. The weather has been amazingly good for over a week. Or, amazingly bad because it seems climate change wasn't a hoax after all.

                      Even with no time, I'll have to find the time to read the books by Cormac McCarthy I haven't read. So I should. I don't read much fiction, if any these days, but I did read one or two books by him, and was blown away. Brilliant writer. So brilliant. But dead now: deid deid deid as he can be! Let that be a lesson. We're all fucked.

        

Tentative beginnings to get another agent.

                         The Samye Ling is almost open again. I was there in February and was freaked the first afternoon by the cold after I went down to the riverbank and became chilled. Nowhere to get warm, They had the heating on a timer due to the eye watering cost of energy these days, but this time it was back in the old routine, almost. Anyway, the cafe was open and so was Potala House, where I normally stay. For the first time, I had room in Johnstone House in February which just felt weird.

                        There was something called the Monlam going on and the temple was mobbed every day with folk doing prayers, and some teachings from Drupon Rinpoche. He asked for a show of hands to see how many in the audience had done one of the big three or four year retreats ... about a fifth of the folk put their hands up. Impressive. 

                        An eighty five year old guy was sitting behind me sometimes. I met him on the Holy Isle. Turned out he'd only been in paid employment for three years of his life, and had made his living out of dealing dope till he did twelve years in retreat. You'd think butter wouldn't melt in their mouths. Someone else I know told me they were dealing in Amsterdam before they came to Scotland; someone else who did twelve years in retreat.

                        The top photo is of Lama Yeshe and Ani Llamo coming to the gate of the centre as I was leaving. I saw them going the opposite way, to Purelands, when I was in  a taxi on the way there. Lifted my heart, so it did.

                          Writing stuff since this blog is supposed to be supporting my Kindle account... So, one of the two folk I gave The Buddha, The Dakini, and The Dirty Old Man to, someone I met on the Indian pilgrimage who'd read some of my books, said she thought it was really good, which was encouraging. 

                            When I read Cold Killing while my friend was reading The Dirty Old Man, I found it okay. When I'd put it aside to concentrate on the writing the dharma book, I thought it probably needed filled out in "act three". But it's a crime thriller novel and works on plotline, so it's okay as it is, I've decided.

                            So now I've got two new books. I'd like The Dirty Old Man published because it might help folk who are interested in meditating, but it's not a genre novel, so it's chances are slim. The same with Cyclists, and it got published nearly right away. If I make any money from  The Dirty Old Man, I'll give it to the wee French nun who is trying to develop a retreat centre. But it probably won't make any money.

                            In my experience you get published by knowing people. Sending out emails to agents is probably not going to get you published, but I don't know anyone .... still I sent an email to someone and this would be a good place to keep a record of what I'm doing in this regard.

No 1: Daisy Chadley at Peters, Fraser and Dunlop. Picked her to send an email to because she was the last on the list of folk there who were willing to entertain folk like me, the random outsiders.

All the tatties are planted.

                        I'm loving having an allotment these days. Well, it's half an allotment these days, but that makes it more manageable. In fact, it's never looked better than it has today, the day I finished planting my potatoes. And what a variety! Maris Piper, Charlottes, Bambino, Cara, Picasso and King Edward.

                        I finished the latest book a week or so ago, and felt quite rejuvenated by it's completion. I think it's quite good and I might try to get it published by something other than Kindle. But there are good reasons not to bother. I don't need the money and I don't want the hassle of trying to find an agent, etc. But it might do some good, this book, if it fell into the hands of folk interested in meditating, so I feel I should make at least some effort.

                        I've given it to two folk to have a look at. This was probably as mistake, but I was very keen to get rid of it for a while somehow. Really, I should have just put it aside and got back to the thriller I put aside to write it. Didn't take me any time to write at all. The last time I wrote a book like that, Are You Boys Cyclists?, it did get published. This book just poured onto the machine and that makes me suspicious. Surely, a wait and then a re-write, but that last time I read it, all was well. Hmm?

Hurrah for the Spring!

 

                        It was great spending six nights at the Samye Ling during the Makhala Prayers festival. For the first time in three years! That's the longest I've been away from there since the first time I visited in 1988. It was a bit sad to see that the place is still half shut. The cafe was not open and neither was the Potala House, so for the first time I stayed in Johnstone House, room 2. I think they are having a problem with the price of energy, but I just loved being there once I gotten over the fear of never being warm. 

                        I got a taxi from Lockerbie and when I was bailing out, there near the front of the door of the quadrangle was Lama Yeshe, Lama Rinchen Palmo, Ani Lhamo and several other nuns. How auspicious!! I got my copy of the book by Lama Yeshe, From a Mountain in Tibet, signed by him and that felt like I'd accomplished the main task I'd set myself: get Lama Yeshe to sign the book and thank him for all his help. I don't know what he wrote on the book, but was reminded of the joke pulled by the Chinese tattooist who inked in Chinese on someone's arm: at the end of the day this is just a silly boy. Anyway, I thanked him for everything. He was on a mobility scooter. Well, none of us are getting any younger.

                       A couple of weeks ago, I finished the first draft of my latest book, and have since read it through once. For what it is, a first draft, I was very pleased with it. It's much better than anything I've written for years and years. The re-writes won't take me very long since most of it is okay .... well, I should go through it with a fine toothed comb, but it's in the first person, and you're either going to go with that, or hate it.

                        I really should start looking for an agent for it, but the idea makes my heart sink a little. I don't need the money. It won't get me out of a jobbie since I don't work anymore. Anyway, it's not your usual novel and I probably won't find an agent, but I think I should make some kind of effort. If I got it published and made some money (I've only ever made £1,000 from books), I could give it away.

                        I'll be back at the Samye Ling at the end of May and might be going to Belgium with Lama Rinchen after that, but we'll just wait and see how that pans out. 

                        

Birthday boy!

 

                                        I'm seventy two years old today. This is surely very old, but I'm still full of beans. This morning I took the video and posted it on Face Book. Twenty four people had responded to it by noon. Doesn't anyone go to work anymore?

                                        I've been very much enjoying writing my new book. I think it'll be called The Buddha, The Dakini, and the Dirty Old Man. I think I have it finished in a couple of weeks. It's short, about fifty thousand words, but it's as long as it has to be. Anyway, I'll only have the first draft finished and will have to do lots of re-writes. Christopher Isherwood wrote out his first novel seventeen times in longhand. That's the benchmark.

                                           I haven't had a drink for a month though I will fall off the wagon tonight. The effect on the meditations has been really surprising. Everything is coming up roses.

                                            I've booked into the Samye Ling for Makhala Prayers next week, and I'm very happy about that, but the last time I thought I was going, the rail strikes stopped me, so fingers crossed for next week. I'm a bit nervous due to having been no where for three years nearly due to the pandemic.

                                            Video doesn't seem to be working. Oh well.