Whiskey On Sunday
A strange day. I got up to discover it was an hour earlier than I thought it was, and the day hasn’t really recovered since then. I finally got the second coat on the decking by the shed. It’s taken longer than I hoped, but a run of dry weather was all it needed.
I didn’t do any writing, but I spent a long time thinking about it, including on a walk tonight. It sounds like nothing much, but I need to get the outline of the plot in the final few thousand words or so clear in my head.
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I mentioned self-publishing the other day. The situation is this: I have a complete novel which is gathering dust and rejections letters, with which the current work in progress shares characters. I also have a novel-length collection of vampire stories (kinda) that was finished some time ago and is going nowhere. I’m toying with self-publishing that collection. I would probably charge less than the price of a Starbucks coffee, mainly because I’ll need some cover art and would need to pay an artist. I’d still make a loss, but that’s how it goes.
Is there any interest?
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Music: I first saw the Pogues at a Cambridge Folk Festival sometime in the very early 80s. I might even have some pics. somewhere. I remember that they divided the Cambridge audience–the traditional folkies were horrified, the rest of us enjoyed it. Shane was still beating himself over the head with a tin tray at the time.
If I Should Fall From Grace With God is their most consistent album, I think, and The Broad Majestic Shannon is a song I used to have on endless repeat. Shane MacGowan has a talent for jaunty songs with wistfully melancholic lyrics.
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