Friday 25 November 2016

AUTUMN TREE LAMENT

AUTUMN TREE LAMENT

The Autumn Tree is history
The Autumn Tree’s no more
Reduced to so much firewood
By the cruelty of a saw

Each year I saw it alter
The boundary of seasons’ changes
One side still green, the other brown
Leaves chilled where it was shaded

The Autumn Tree is history
The Autumn Tree does not abide
There’s nothing but a stump now
Next to Pennine Road, near Hyde

Maybe it was an ill tree?
Perhaps roots were causing scars?
I just hope they didn’t chop it down
Just to park a few more cars

The Autumn Tree is history
The Autumn Tree’s chopped down
This surprising sudden vanishing
Caused its fans to pause and frown

I noticed something happening
A couple of days before
When all of its poor branches
Had been hacked back to the core

The Autumn Tree is history
The Autumn Tree’s not there
Lost hair, then limbs, then body
With nobody seeming to care

Perhaps it’s all my own fault?
For pointing out this tree
To a great big wide unfeeling world
Causing this small tragedy

The Autumn Tree is history
The Autumn Tree’s no more
Reduced to so much firewood
Hacked away by a human saw


Martin A W Holmes, Nov 25 2016

Thursday 24 November 2016

TWELVE BY TEN

Because I'm never, ever likely to do anything else with the 70,000 words of that first draft novel I splurged out during November, I then got bored enough to start working up several rough cover ideas for that thing I'm not doing.

Still, it's sometimes kind of fun to mess around with things when there's no actual significance to them whatsoever, don't you think?

No...? 

Just me then.

Well, why not, eh...?









A philosophical curmudgeon watching his half century disappear rapidly in the rear-view mirror of the second-hand rust-bucket of life, whilst living constantly on the brink of Derbyshire with a very tolerant Beloved.

The day job involves colouring in pictures to earn an honest crust, and the evenings, weekends, and early mornings are often spent writing plays nobody performs, poetry (or something resembling it) that nobody cares all that much about, and blog posts that seep out unnoticed into the uncaring universe. Dabbling in this return long-form prose in the form of writing a novel is yet another experiment to find out whether I have the stamina or mental capacity to create something more substantial.

As has been pointed out on several occasions, I'm always finding new ways to find another complete waste of time to fritter a few more precious heartbeats away.

Old enough to know better, stupid enough to care about it, daft enough to keep on doing it anyway...

Tuesday 15 November 2016

NOW IT CAN BE TOLD!

NOW IT CAN BE TOLD!

Okay, now that the stench of potential failure and the embarrassment of even suggesting that I might be capable of such a thing has passed, I feel confident enough to make a small confession.

This year, and with the kind of unofficial and unaided approach that tends to see me through these things, I was foolish enough to attempt the NaNoWriMo 2016 Challenge to write a "novel" (or at least 50,000 words of something that might turn into a novel) within the month of November.

Although, to be perfectly fair, I've not really approached it their way. I'm not in any groups, haven't got any "buddies" (Lord help us), and I've ignored their continued requests for donations (A-hah...!). I merely arbitrarily picked their target and start date, and off I jolly well went, prattling along and churning out my nonsense simply as an exercise to discover or not I have the stamina or the mental capacity to one day try to go the full "nov..."

So, you might have noticed - you probably didn't - that I'd been rather less "active" on the "stringing a few inept words together" front over the past few weeks, but that wasn't because I'd become all antisocial, or decided that you weren't worthy, it was simply that producing a wodge of deathless prose in those quantities takes an extraordinary amount of your free time - especially when your free time is evenings, weekends, and the occasional early morning if you can be faffed getting up that early in the week.

Nevertheless... By Jove, I think that I may have actually been and gone and done it...!

Despite the fact that prose hasn't really been the strongest of my writing "things" in recent times, I seem to have managed to start thinking in that way again and created a string of several thousand words that, to me at least, aren't completely terrible to read.

Now, because it's me, I doubt that anything else is going to happen to those words other than the fact that they'll sit on a hard drive forever, but the fact is that they exist and I have, for whatever reasons, achieved whatever pointless goal it was that I set myself.

Huzzah!
This is a story that's been rattling around in my head for several years now, so I'm glad of the opportunity to finally make a proper start to it and prove to myself that, with a certain amount of focus, I can actually belt out a significant slab of prose after all those years of play-writing and (more recently) poems. 
I fully expect to fail, by the way, but will be happy enough if I even get half way.
Meanwhile, the story itself is a small, multi-stranded, web of deceit in which several lives and fates cross in (hopefully) unexpected ways. In the end I'm aiming for a more psychological torment than action-packed thriller, so don't expect helicopter gunships or massive explosions... 
Well, not unless I get weirdly sidetracked and end up including helicopter gunships and massive explosions after all...
I did have this rather bizarre notion, you see, that I could cheat a little and write a full-length novel by writing around a dozen short stories that happened to be linked in some tenuous way, not unlike that Christmas story I once knocked out in 25 parts on the blog one year. It was only whilst I was doing this that I realised that that's what chapters tend to be anyway; short stories that are part of a larger whole. The only difference I was trying was compartmentalising each segment and playing around with the notion of narrative time, neither of which are that innovative as ideas, but they did make climbing the word mountain at least plausible rather than seemingly impossible.
On a summer morning, a woman does the washing up at her kitchen window. 
On an autumn weekend, a man heads out with a camera before dawn. 
Overnight in a lonely office, a Detective contemplates his enforced retirement.
In an otherwise deserted factory, a Senior Executive tries to cover up her crimes. 
The paths of these disparate lives will cross at terrible junctions, and murder, betrayal, fraud, and the events of a chequered past, will come back to haunt all of these people in one way or another, long after some of them might think that they had got away with it.
Because bitter people have long memories, and can carry grudges for a very, very long time.
To be fair, I did approach this little project as a type of bonkers literary therapy, and the subject matter was, in part at least, rather too personal to ever be considered for publication, but I have found the process extraordinarily cathartic and, in the process, have managed to deal with a few "issues" which have been bubbling under in my subconscious for far too long now.

My top tip from this month (actually half a month) of pointless madness?

If you have demons in your past that sometimes pop back into your mind, write them down and find ways to slaughter them - in a purely fanciful and literary manner of course. Even if those dark demons are still out there in the real world, somehow I have found that addressing them on the page, and finding ways of destroying them in fiction, just makes you feel a hell of a lot better about life.

I tell you, it works wonders.

Of course, whenever I do start to even consider that I might one day actually be able or allowed to publish some of my wordmongery, I find someone with my name (or something very similar to it) is already out there as a playwright or novelist, and I start to wonder whether I might have to come up with a nom-de-plume.

Because, believe me, writing a poem or a play or, Lord help us, a novel is an absolute breeze in comparison to having to try and come up with one of those...
STATS:
November 15th, 2016 - Of the twelve planned "chapters" or "short stories", seven chapters "complete" to "first draft". The earliest incomplete chapter is five, and the latest "complete" first draft is chapter nine.
Ch 1 - 6021 Words; Ch 2 - 5828 Words; Ch 3 - 5783 Words; Ch 4 - 5470 Words; Ch 5 - 2264 Words; Ch 6 - 5462 Words; Ch 7 - 4961 Words; Ch 8 - 7066 Words; Ch 9 - 6479 Words; Ch 10 - 1112 Words; Ch 11 - 233 Words; Ch 12 - 162 Words.
Running total: 50841 words (+/- variations in word counting software) between 01 and 15 November - although most of the actual words themselves are probably quite dreadful it's been an interesting experiment. 
NB - To not appear to be a proper swot, and not discourage any scribes still in the doldrums, I've been understating my word count on the "official" website - They still think I'm wallowing in the low 40,000s - the fools...! 

Friday 11 November 2016

LEONARD COHEN 111116

A shining light fades
A raging fire goes out
Everyone should cry
When a poet dies

Wednesday 9 November 2016

TRUMP WINS 9/11/16


Bedtime, November 8th:

I fear what I'll find
By the dawn's early light...

Humanity...
I'm counting on you
To do the right thing
(Don't know why) -
Do not let me down*

Dawn, November 9th:

When you wake up
Realise the world has
Indeed gone quite mad

And...

In the words of
The great thinkers of the age
Dark times, but this struck me as being rather wry..
Have to "deal with it"

CN: You're watching this horror too then....

MH: Like a car crash... Yet can't take my eyes off it...

CN: He's doing well in Pennsylvania too... this is hideous....

MH: Fear will get you a long way...

MH: Just called Florida for DT...
"Women For Trump" (Jesus...!)

CN: Just heard :- (This is hideous

MH: "Women For Trump" (Jesus...!)

CN: Wisconsin going to the dark side....

MH: Do you think America would ever have voted for a woman...?
The glass ceiling might slam down for generations...

CN: Oh god... what is wrong with "people"?
You cannot fight the power of
the mindless sound bite :-/

MH: (...)**

MH: Well, I refuse to let them buy my book...

CN: He's 16 votes away...

MH: You cannot fight the power of the mindless sound bite :-/

CN: ...and "Drain the Swamp"

CN: ...whatever that means

MH: Arguing against the empty rhetoric of a slogan like "Make America Great Again" (or for that matter "I want my country back") always makes you sound like you somehow don't... Even when what you really want is something better than the slogan suggests. But these slogans rapidly become the chants of the mob and drown out any further debate...

SM: Was Jerzy Kosinski years ahead of the game with Being There? Is Trump a 21st century Chauncey Gardner

MHonTW:
Why does reporting from Las Vegas
always look like going over to
ask for the votes in Eurovision?
MHonTW: Why does reporting from Las Vegas always look like going over to ask for the votes in Eurovision?

MHonTW: "...may be decided by a few thousand people in a handful of states..." is nonsense when they've all already voted you know BBC News

MHonTW: Looks like it's all over for the least worst option...

GS: Nellie the elephant packed her truck and trundled out of the circus, off she went moaning trumpity trump, trump, trump trump...

MH: The head of the herd was calling, far, far away...

Tw: Look America, I love you dearly, but I hope you'll understand when I withdraw my tourist dollars for a few years...
(I know "You Wont Be Missed!")

MHonFB: So, Don... Your place in history is secure, your picture will go on a banknote, your face will be carved on a mountain... Now, if you could try to keep quiet and try not to do any real damage...

MHonTW: This morning's result does not, of course, mean that every other "mad as a box of snakes" point of view is now perfectly acceptable...
Oh, for the love of...

Because
"Celebrities react to Donald Trump victory"
is all that really matters...

MHonTW: Suppose it's rather awkward for TM the PM to have to congratulate someone for becoming leader after an actual election...

MHonFB: So, America, you're prepared to put up with any lunatic just as long as they've got a winkle...?

The above represents some of my personal lowlights from a very frustrating late evening and early morning on Social Media, (with their own contributions from several reliable sources - you know who you are)

*They did (!)
**Speechless, in other words

Tuesday 8 November 2016

US ELECTION 2016

US ELECTION 2016

Wish it was already over
I can’t stand the tension
Raising my blood pressure
What is it with elections?

All that simply not knowing
Was it like this in June?
Awaiting the results
That impending sense of doom