a casual vacancy

As well as some further work today on my difficult second novel, I've encountered a couple of other fresh books.

The first one is so new it hasn't been published yet. It's at that "A4 sized sheets that are freshly bound" stage. It looks neat but is waiting for the first few reviewer readers. I can safely say it has a great first sentence.

The other one is That Book, the one that everyone is buying at the moment and having opinions about. I got my copy from a proper bookshop and paid an almost full retail price for it. Fifteen minutes later I saw the same title on sale in Tescos for £9, which is less than half price.

I've only just started it. There's an okay but not great first sentence but actually the dust jacket gives away that the subject of the opening isn't going to make it alive to the end of the first chapter. An. Aneurysm.

I used that 'don't pass go' device in The Triangle, where in my case I think of it as the James Bond beginning (i.e. something lively that doesn't have a lot to do with the main story).

In the red covered novel's case it is used to set the motivation for what happens in the next few chapters.

I haven't really read enough to have fully formed views yet, but I can see already that JK Rowling writes a good line in teenagers and it is quite interesting to see how she develops inhabitants of varied housing estates in a manner similar to the Muggle parts of the early Harry Potters.

I can understand the title of the novel based upon the thoughtfully added definition in the front of the book, but I suppose it is also about that way of living - a kind of casual vacancy of mind that people have in many situations. I'm assuming that will be a theme of some kind as I get further into it.

Others have said the story telling is kind of standard, but I suppose JK Rowling has been a plot-meister in the other series of books. It will be interesting to see whether this one branches into new territory and how much Rowling-esque back story will feature.

technique for use of megastructures to inform the creative process

The background threat of my continued work on the second novel continues. In between bits of work this week I decided to review the progress and try to unscramble to plot line.

I'll admit that the rush of words from NaNoWriMo can be good but also created a few spurious scenes which I'm in the process of deleting. The scene set outside a football ground in Reading is a case in point. I think I was stuck in a nearby traffic jam when I visualised that particular and superfluous moment.

And a few characters can be combined. It's obvious to me that there's too many, possibly a factor of the storyline being put together in bursts.

So I wandered outdoors with the laptop, found a nearby beautiful mega-structure where I could sit in relative peace with a cup of coffee and started the editing process.

It's working surprisingly well and I think the change of scene is good for inspiration. Today at the performance space and maybe tomorrow at the adjacent gallery.

Suggestion for caption: Windowcleaners or spacemen?

inside the butterfly cabinet

Tonight we were at the wonderful Butterfly Cabinet for some blues. We needed a table this evening so timed the arrival for just after the neon 'OPEN' sign was switched on.

Well, not quite, actually. We arrived early enough to have some starters in the nearby sky apple cafe, ahead of the switching of the neon.

The venue was hosting the Monkey Junk Blues Club and in the short period from 7.45 until 8 filled from the front room, through the corridor bit to the back room with animated folk ready of an evening of the blues.

A foot stompin' and hot smokin' evening. A short video extract below.

down the empty streets we'll disappear until the dawn

Sometimes an evening sat around a table just chatting is the best way to go.

We'd talked about watching a television show but instead our little group assembled around a circular table (the best kind) with a few glasses of jazz-backed wine and a fine home-made supper.

We pretty much talked from before a rainy sun had set until beyond the witching hour.

Sometimes it needs the time to let conversation develop like a stream becomes a river.

The bridge across the misty waters outside our door surely helped create the atmosphere.

looper

After the Dabba Wal Street Food Kitchen, we headed to the cinema to see the new Bruce Willis movie called Looper.

We even sat near the front.

I won't say too much about the plot line for fear of spoilers, but the general idea is about near future assassins who deal with time travelled mobster hits.

There's the expected twists - er - loops in the story and also a chance to start to invent some along the way.

Bruce also gets some great one liners - along the lines "we could spend the rest of the morning describing time travel and use all the drinking straws in this diner making models, or we could just accept it" and another part where the map just has an 'X' to explain a location. The script tips its hat to the audience who have already seen all this stuff and don't need the fancy GPS explanations.

The storyline also does some things you don't see so often. I won't say what but it's not the stuff of many action-sci-fi-noir movies.

The near future Kansas is also a fairly dusty and run down looking city, with beaten up cars adapted for solar charging and a plethora of cardboard cities. There's a few seconds also in a manga-like Singapore all high tech and gleaming.

And it's not giving anything away to say that the time machine really looks as if it was invented by H.G. Wells, complete with its almost steam-punk dials and valves.

Our post-viewing consensus - it was definitely worth seeing. Was it as good as the adverts on the buses said - 'The next Matrix/Bladerunner' ? - I think the jury would remain out on that one.

Perhaps stuck in a loop.

And take it from me - China is going to be big.

trouble in't village

They said there'd be trouble today. First news was of 'railway trouble' but later the tram conductor said I should watch out for protests in the village.

Sure enough, the railway station was all but deserted, although the buses were still running. Then I heard the sound of raised voices.

It sounded like a rally and I could see placards being waved at the band-stand.

I crossed the cobbled street just as the leading protestors from the NUWSS turned the corner.

Yes, I'd travelled a mere eight miles distance but back in time just over a hundred years, to the small village of Beamish. It still runs on pounds, shillings and pence and proudly portrays the turn from the nineteenth and into the very early twentieth century.

sitting on a beach, or is it art?

Things might be a bit out of sequence at the moment.

The last few days have tumbled by with all manner of things from rats in the alleyways of Chinatown to divine burlesque, mixed with American brunches and even an all-day business workshop for good measure.

Right now I'm sitting on a beach watching a small piece of the world go by. I feel as if I'm in an art installation actually, but I'm sure it's one of those moments when the body needs to catch up with the mind.

Or maybe it's the other way around.

Morden Tower

We'd arrived after the start. In fairness we'd also been in Manchester earlier in the day and the last part had become gently rushed.

There had been a couple of detours on the walk to the spot. One to get some Montepulciano and another when we'd walked along the front of the fortified walls instead of their inside in order to reach the entrance.

We could have known something about structures having an inside and an outside.

We could have used logic. You don't put a door into the outside of a castle except where there's the drawbridge. Sure enough we could see the little slit windows suitable for firing arrows at marauders.

Our objective was to reach Morden Tower for the poetry reading. Up some clattery centuries-old stairs towards a door jammed tightly shut.

We mused about how to gain attention "knock quietly, perhaps". I don't think the siege in 1644 would have seen the outsiders knocking quietly.

Then we were inside to hear 2012's North Eastern poets in the tiny venue where Ginsberg, Corso, Ferlinghetti and many others have honed their words.

Camera and iPhone-less, the picture is from Morden Tower's own archive.

splish splashing around

I've been driving around the UK to various meetings and staying in a mixture of hotels over the last few days. I'm wondering if the wet weather has been following me around the country.

Last Thursday and Friday I was away and a couple of days later the place I stayed was in the news because of the torrential rain, a river burst its bank and part of the area was flooded.

Then I've been staying in another town at the beginning of the week. The hotel was also hosting an unrelated conference of some kind. I was in the coffee bar part of the hotel, blissfully unaware of the unfolding drama. The conference had been cancelled and several of the people in the hotel had been stranded because of other floods in the vicinity.

To be honest, I didn't quite believe what I was overhearing and started to google the local weather forecast and news, when I noticed the boot type footwear that some of the guests were wearing.

I still had a short walk to get to my meeting and realised that some of the area surrounding the hotel had been flooded too.

Fortunately my route was clear and also my subsequent journey home. I think we'd had a whole month's worth of rain in a day. Tomorrow I'm back on the road and after another day or two in the West Midlands I'll be heading to Manchester.

Hopefully, by then, Manchester won't be a source of more rain ;-)

tunnabora test on the trainerroad

The rain was blowing horizontal by the time I'd decided to go for a bike ride this morning. It gave me an excuse to further shake down the winter season bike.

I was out yesterday in comparative sunshine on my blue bike, although I did notice a slight cooling of the air. Today it was time to take out the semi-winterised orange one, which I'd set up a few days ago, but only just added a cadence sensor so that I can measure things properly. At the time my early prep seemed needlessly pessimistic, but what a difference a few days make.

I use that ANT+ protocol for my bike metrics. It's a bit like a very short distance wireless personal area network and I decided to standardise on it about a couple of years ago.

Interestingly, just adding the cadence sensor to the bike means I can also use it as a sort of power meter when it is connected to a PC or Mac. Power meters for bikes are generally quite expensive, but there's a software version that simulates the effect and can be used for a workout.

I'm using something called Trainerroad for this purpose - which is surprisingly good and simple to set up. It uses ANT+ to link the cadence sensor, speedo and a heart rate monitor to the PC and then takes readings. It doesn't even need a readout on the bike, although I do use my Garmin for that.

I can then play various trainerroad turbo trainer tests whilst it sets goals and monitors performance like a regular trainer would do. Its doesn't control the turbo (or rollers) but uses their calculated resistance (virtual power) to set the targets for the workout.

I'm only working through the so-called Intermediate scripts at the moment, which (no doubt for ego reasons) is basically the simplest set of workouts, designed to last over six elapsed weeks. The first time you use it, there's a test to analyse for the maximum personal output sustainable over an hour (Functional Threshold Power), using two 8 minute tests. This then calibrates the other scripts so that they are do-able. If I'm honest, I found the original FTP200 setting too high and had to wind it down a bit.

I've now worked out how to set up the individual session to run at the bottom of the PC screen, with a TV show playing above it (I'm watching Mad Men Series 2 at the moment). At some point I might take some pictures of the set-up, but for now, here's an example of one the outputs from a one hour ride.

To begin with I'm finding it difficult to track to the targeted output levels, although I suppose I'll get better with a bit more practice (& fitness).

golden spiralling - but not out of control

Before the picture of the sunflower scrolls out of the main pages on the blog, I thought I'd mention that it's a 34.

I don't do it with most plants, but sunflowers require that special extra moment to (a) estimate and sometimes (b) count the number of petals. Not if they are a complete field full of flowers, you understand, but if they are singular.

Some people are surprised that flowers have set numbers of petals when they grow, but I think I'm 'amazed'. I know it is all about Fibonacci series and phi and golden means, but for some reason the sunflower is the perfect type of flower to check that nature is still working properly.

The right number of petals for flowers are (1), 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89 and not really any other numbers (I know there's a few mutations, and so-called 'doubles' like on lilies, but let's stick with the main ones). The arithmetic is simply that the two previous numbers add up to the next available combination.

So my sunflower planted by the birds is a 34, and Pat's Michaelmas daisies are also 34s.

My picture of the complicated rose above is probably an 89, but it is a bit difficult to count the petals. I suppose that's the attraction of sunflowers for the purpose. They are easy to count.

The same thing happens with the spirally bit in the middle of a sunflower. The clockwise and the anticlockwise number of spirals are also in a similar ratio. It'll be something like 34 one way and 55 the other way.

Even pineapple bumps do it. Count the clockwise spirals and then the anti-clockwise ones. It'll be something like 13 one way and 21 the other.

There. I've managed to rationalise my flower petal counting. Now, back to the spreadsheets.

drive my car to penny lane

A bit of a helter skelter day tripper visit to Liverpool today, including a stop in a road with a famous name.

Altogether now, it was a magical mystery tour, during which I had to drive my car, following someone along a long and winding road.

I should have known better, but my ticket to ride didn't give me time to let it be. I suppose I was here, there and everywhere, before I had to follow the sun to get back.