I lived in London for 3 years as a child and have never gotten over it. My step-father was stationed at Ruislip Air Force Base and we rented a terrace home in Ruislip Gardens, just down from a cricket pitch. My first three years of school were there, and by third grade, we were learning French and I was fascinated by football (soccer, here) and foggy evenings. By the time we returned to the US, I had a proper West End accent. It took ten years of Missouri, North Dakota, Hawaii and Texas to slam it out of me...but the positive thing is, I never took up a Texas drawl or twang. I just sound...American.
I've been back to London once, since -- five years ago. And I felt at home in the city. I had no problem getting around on the Tube and even went out to see that house. It's painted white and there's a high school on the cricket pitch, now...but everything else is so much the same. I could live there, again...and actually sounded out a few people I knew in the book business about whether or not I could work for them. No one said "No" but it was all, "If you move here, contact us and we'll see."
I'm remembering this because I found out, today, purely by accident, that I'm expected to man the office while everyone else is in London for the Olympia Book Fair. Another point in the pathetic communication going on at that place. These people tell each other everything and I'm not quite in the loop, so find things out after they've been decided. Besides, I think I'm close to overstaying my welcome. We'll see how it goes over the next few weeks. My lease is up in August...so that might be a good ending point.
I'm just tired of living in the US. It's a nation on the decline thanks to the GOP and acquiescence of the Democrats, especially that back-stabber in the White House. He spits on progressives and does everything he can to placate the right-wing-nuts...like finally releasing his birth certificate, today, stupidly thinking that will end the questions about it...but he's only finding they will not stop attacking him. Yet them he's working with and people like me, who want to make this country more human instead of just a machine, are being ignored.
Dunno what I'll do if I leave. I'm still planning to use August to finish a first draft of POS...and that really does take preference. I dunno...I'm probably just tired, and that tends to make me focus on the negative. I think I'll hit the sack early, tonight, and read till I'm asleep. Keep myself going by focusing on my writing. Focusing on Brendan. He's been patient with me...as much as he can be.
But what he's about to find is I'm coming to the story a different writer. Doing "The Lyons' Den" showed me how much deeper you can go with your story and characters if you use humor as well as drama. I just need to find the places where it works best. Some fine Irish black humor.
Irish tragedy -- a drunk drowns in a shallow pool of water in a gutter because no one's paying attention. Irish comedy -- a drunk drowns in a vat of Guinness because he fights off people's help so he can get in "just one more little sup of the mother's milk."
Crude, rude and totally misconstrued. I like that.
I've been back to London once, since -- five years ago. And I felt at home in the city. I had no problem getting around on the Tube and even went out to see that house. It's painted white and there's a high school on the cricket pitch, now...but everything else is so much the same. I could live there, again...and actually sounded out a few people I knew in the book business about whether or not I could work for them. No one said "No" but it was all, "If you move here, contact us and we'll see."
I'm remembering this because I found out, today, purely by accident, that I'm expected to man the office while everyone else is in London for the Olympia Book Fair. Another point in the pathetic communication going on at that place. These people tell each other everything and I'm not quite in the loop, so find things out after they've been decided. Besides, I think I'm close to overstaying my welcome. We'll see how it goes over the next few weeks. My lease is up in August...so that might be a good ending point.
I'm just tired of living in the US. It's a nation on the decline thanks to the GOP and acquiescence of the Democrats, especially that back-stabber in the White House. He spits on progressives and does everything he can to placate the right-wing-nuts...like finally releasing his birth certificate, today, stupidly thinking that will end the questions about it...but he's only finding they will not stop attacking him. Yet them he's working with and people like me, who want to make this country more human instead of just a machine, are being ignored.
Dunno what I'll do if I leave. I'm still planning to use August to finish a first draft of POS...and that really does take preference. I dunno...I'm probably just tired, and that tends to make me focus on the negative. I think I'll hit the sack early, tonight, and read till I'm asleep. Keep myself going by focusing on my writing. Focusing on Brendan. He's been patient with me...as much as he can be.
But what he's about to find is I'm coming to the story a different writer. Doing "The Lyons' Den" showed me how much deeper you can go with your story and characters if you use humor as well as drama. I just need to find the places where it works best. Some fine Irish black humor.
Irish tragedy -- a drunk drowns in a shallow pool of water in a gutter because no one's paying attention. Irish comedy -- a drunk drowns in a vat of Guinness because he fights off people's help so he can get in "just one more little sup of the mother's milk."
Crude, rude and totally misconstrued. I like that.
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