Rip Van Gledwood

I FEEL LIKE RIP VAN WINKLE. (Why does Magnus Pyke keep coming to my mind?) Yes I certainly could sleep for 20 years. I slept most of today, after getting up at 8:30 sharp I went to the chemist, etc.... Went back to bed... Missed everything. Didn't bother phoning in. (Appointments.) I am sick~ boo-hoo. I'll say I was ill. I have a disease called tiredness.

Run-down-ness./Terminal slothful junkiedom./Whatever....

I've been doing a bit of writing. But more to the point, inspiration's been pouring in re future projects. Gledwood cart-before-the-horse is determined not to get into Dan Brown or Bridget Jones syndrome where a highly successful book terrifies you so much of not being able to repeat such success that a massive writer's block ensues and nothing at all is published for years and years.

I broke my usual taboo and did some reading about book publishing. What I read was faintly depressing (don't expect too much, blah blah) ~ hence the taboo. They say you'll hardly make enough from your first novel to wallpaper the back bedroom, let alone retire to a 10-storey palace in the vicinity of Harrods (well you have to dream). These facts just shoved deeper into my head the maxim that books are like sausages. As soon as one's popped out the next one's coming. I've an entire lifetime of writings-not-written with which to torture the world...

WOW! This is a blast from the past. I wasn't expecting to get comments back on beloved stationery items, but here's two of mine. To the left we have the only fountain pen ink I know of that doesn't run when champagne is poured across the manuscript; to the right a Lamy fountain pen. These are the best I've ever come across. Far better than anything in silver and gold costing several times more. You can get one plus ink converter (who uses cartridges? ugh!!) for less than £20 and it writes as if it's been worn to your hand for over 20 years. No word of a lie! These are by far the best fountain pens I've ever come across ~ and I went through a phase (right up till I got on the heroin actually, and then I didn't care about anything any more) where I used fountain all the time. There's something about a nice pen that just makes you wanna write... (even shopping lists)...

The icing machine's gone berzerk at the Hobnobs Creams factory, filling them right to the edge. Which is well yummy for dunking into deep caramel-colour British Rail-style tea...

Last night on Channel 4's Shameless, as well as seeing a DSS Fraud Investigator get dragged down the pub and plied with ecstasy-laced drink so, in love with the world, he ended up (eventually) in the local brothel puking over the madam's shoes: as well as this I saw an evil Irish heroin dealer called Paddy (do they have white heroin dealers in Manchester?) get tied to a bed and forcibly injected with his own wares! I was cheering at the TV!! At the episode's end he'd still not been released. I just hope they keep him there long enough to get addicted. Oh that would be such poetic justice..!