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.

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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.