One of the great things about writing is that I get to be nosey and blame it all on the fact that I'm researching a book. If you tell people you're writing a book it's incredible the amount of time and energy they'll put into helping you. It's actually a very heartwarming experience.

I'm still in the middle of a 30 day experiment of publishing the Starter for 10 exercises that I normally write in the critical seclusion of my office. It's been a painful process, because not all of them have been good and it's taken a lot to post something when it clearly is either nonsense, or has the seed of something good in it, but needs a number of seasons of cultivation.

The process of sharing these is so that I can get less precious about publishing - it's also so that I can start to get more au fait with other platforms like Mirror, Instagram and TikTok. I'm going to be reading one of the Starter for 10 stories on TikTok at some point today, so if you fancy a three minute, weird short story to listen to then give me a follow.

Oh, and last thing - I've finally sorted out a Stripe page, so if you want to buy signed copies of Before and After or Flesh and Blood then you can from here.

The learning from this week have been:

• TikTok generates a bizarre number of views, which doesn't always seem genuine

• Watching someone write is fundamentally uninteresting

• I don't smile very much when I write. I also seem to act things out with my face as I'm writing, which looks really weird

• I'm having mixed thoughts about ChatGPT and AI's role in creativity, which probably means I should just not worry about it and see where we are in 10 years

I'm writing full time for the next six weeks to do the first draft of the next book. Looking forward to it, but as per usual I'm shitting myself that I'm a gigantic fraud. As I get older I realise that this is true of all people, excluding airline pilots and surgeons.

***********

All the ideas and thoughts that coalesced in my brain between 19:41 and 19:51

A cosy ninja. Furry slippers. Marshmallows on the points of his shuriken.

The Smiths on a camping holiday.

The 100 Acres Wood implies the existence of a 100 acres wouldn’t.

I bet The Fonz really struggled to buy batteries. What size would you like Mr Fonzarelli? Aaaaaaaaaaay.

Floating, floating, floating, floating, floating, then not floating

Tesla superchargers, Tesla superduperchargers, Tesla supercalifragilisticexpialidocious chargers.

Why are we making ourselves redundant?

Tell me what you want to do

Sitting pretty lying still

Etcetera is a pretty good band name

How would witches or wizards with speech impediments ever do any spells properly?

You’re a wizard, Harry.

I’d pay good money to see Harry Potter and the Malleus Malificarum

When I try not to think of things my mind often goes to the problematic character of Batman. Not just that he was a billionaire doing judo on the mentally ill, but because there are so many difficulties about his dual life of being a billionaire and being Batman. Poor Batman. I wonder if anyone else in the yoga class is thinking about Batman. Is it ok if I break the shivasana to ask.

“Hey guys, is anyone else thinking about Batman?”

Content warning: these stories are just off the top of my head so you should brace for weirdness and probably death.

Music plays. A calm, swell of chords that holds you steady.

We begin.

As you take a breath in, you close your eyes. You breathe out and your eyes want to open. Let them if it adds to your feeling of security. But as you breathe – in…out – you feel the need to open your eyes reduces.

Your eyes are closed. Gradually, like the emergence of dawn, you start to become aware of the world inside your mind. It is a place of great beauty and a serene, epic grandeur.

You are aware that you are sat comfortably on a small lawn of grass. Before you are a set of stone steps that lead down to a sunken garden of fountains and square hedges.

You take a moment to breathe. In. Out. You feel the warmth of this world’s sun on your shoulders and you feel the comfort that it brings to your chest and your heart. Your heart beats strongly, passing this warmth around your body. Your fingers and your knees are warm. Your hips and your shins are warm. Your body tells its warmth to each part, like a village sharing the story of a hero.

Slowly you rise to your knees and then placing one strong foot on the ground in front of you, you ease yourself to standing. Your spine lengthens and your mind releases as you breathe. In. Out. Your spine lengthens and your mind releases as you breathe. In. Out. Now warmth and serenity pass with your blood around your body. You feel the surge of it in your stomach and your neck. A whisper of warm sea air passes your nose and you know of all the good that this world has for you.

You breathe confidently now. In. Out. When you are ready, you take a step towards the stone steps. Your feet touch the warm, smooth concrete and you feel it charging your body. One at a time you take the steps down to the patio area.

In front of you is a small fountain that sends forth a cascade of water into a deep blue pool beneath. At the side of the fountain is a silver platter and on the platter are a selection of fruits. You move forward and admire the perfection of the fruits. The deep yellow of the banana and the full, rich green and purple grapes.

You take a grape and throw it in the air. You watch it arc through the air and catch a glimpse of the sun as it travels down and you catch it easily in your mouth. You cough as the grape catches in your throat. You breathe. In. In. You breathe. In. In. In. In.

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