Yesterday morning the sky looked like something holy wanted us to look up for a few minutes, and it felt too too ordinary to be seeing it as I walked to the train station weighed down with parcels. And then I saw two people punching the sh*t out of each other, expletives echoing, and wrestle each other into a waiting taxi – and the magic leached away slightly.
Then, on the train, I kept watching the horizon, and the clouds shifted, and this glowing crack appeared – and I spent the train ride waiting for something apocalyptic to happen. Angels with bloody claws to ease their way through it and land with a thump in Durham; the crack to keep growing until we all were blinded and the triffids lashed their way across the North East; a change of colour and spilling fire. Something.
And then the work-day started, and now the sky’s grey and there’s rain, and I’m just counting down the 48 hours until my holidays really start.
A couple of weekends ago, Literary Salmon had its first and only mini-launch. Jane, Bernie and I stood up in front of the lovely group at the Word Factory Christmas party and explained how LS popped into existence, introduced two of our readers (Rebecca Rouillard and Darren Lee), and then settled back to enjoy a night of music and stories. Then we all went out and continued the celebration, with those of our writers that made it to the event. There’s more Salmon stuff in the pipeline for next year. We have plans. We want ink and paper. Watch that space.
Apart from that, this is me winding down. It’s been a big year. I don’t have much end-of-the-year news, and I’d do one of those ‘look back’ think piece things, but I’ve pretty much spent this entire year marveling at the changes and the breakthroughs and the challenges, and analysing them all in my head, and freaking out, and then being happy. Mostly being very happy. It’s been a good year, and it still just feels like the start of all good things.
Speaking of starts – this blog. This space. I’ve been posting my rubbish into cyber space for years now, and with life running sort of in cycles, I’m aware that next year I’ll just be repeating myself again. There’s only so much to say about training for a marathon, training for a tri, walking, writing, getting on with life. My life, though I love it, is not very extraordinary. Only to me, in little ways.
But I know some extraordinary people, who do a lot for the world, who have a lot to offer. I know some people who think of themselves as ordinary but who I think are amazing. They do things I wouldn’t dream of trying and can barely understand. There are people I half know that I’d like to know more about. There are projects I’d like to promote a bit, and writers I want to give a bit of a spotlight to, and athletes whose sheer grit I’d like to commit to the page and the screen. So I thought it’d be interesting to maybe open up an interview section on this here blog for next year – instead of endless ramblings about me me me, more interesting questions and answers about you and them.
How about that? Maybe an interview a week, every two weeks – once a month, maybe. With anyone I think would be interesting to talk to and read about. I like the idea, so I’m probably going to just run with it and do it anyway, but as always (you mute lot, you) let me know what you think in the comments, if you’re so inclined…
[EDIT – forgot this part!]
Currently reading: Nikesh Shukla’s Meatspace – ostensibly as part of Diverse December, though frankly been meaning to give it a go since he talked at the Northern Writers Conference earlier this year and told about how he and his friends sent a tandoori lambchop into space to try and promote the book. It’s very good – the book, I mean. The lampchop video is pretty good as well, though.