Dipping Back Into an Older Blog

I must preface this entry with an assurance that I’m not ditching this blog. Rather, I’m here to talk about two others that still exist but are largely disused.

My first is LiveJournal – known to its users as LJ – which was once the enfant terrible of blogging and is now the senine grandparent. My profile page has always shown the start date as 15 March 2004, but I suspect there’s some longstanding technical glitch because my first entry was written three months previously on 19 December 2003 and I definitely didn’t backdate it.

I do have cause to visit LJ regularly to read entries from one person who’s never stopped updating. But I only update it when I believe it’s the most appropriate medium. The last time was for an art project in January 2022.

But that’s not the blog I’m here to talk about. I’m here to talk about the other one.

In 2008, two former LJ employees set up a new site called Dreamwidth that addressed their concerns over the user experience. When LJ was the target of several Distributed Denial of Service attacks the following year, several users began to crosspost there, fearing their own blogs might be taken offline. Because both sites share a similar codebase, it was simple to adapt.

I used it differently, taking the opportunity to curate a circle of close friends where I would post more private thoughts. To this day, every entry remains protected and the profile has no connection with my profiles elsewhere.

I updated a lot back then, to the point where I bought a seed account for $200, which is essentially a lifetime membership with premium features. Looking back, I now realise I needed to fix the root of my angst earlier rather than analyse it extensively every month or two while taking no real action. Once I did, the updates ground to a welcome halt and there have only been a handful of entries since 2013.

That said, I updated once again a couple of weeks ago after I felt it was the only possible outlet.

This entry wasn’t quite like the older ones. For a start, it was much more measured and positive. This was more the digital equivalent of writing a letter to someone and placing it in a filing cabinet instead of posting it. There’ll be only one still-active person likely to read it, but I simply had to spill out my thoughts before I could move on.

As I write, I realise I’ve been updating WordPress regularly for more than 11 years, which is approximately equal to the 11 years I was regularly updating LJ. It won’t be too long before I’m past the balance point. Even so, I’ll be keeping that site and Dreamwidth active for the foreseeable future, just in case they come in handy.

A Matter of Presentation

It’s probably no surprise to regular readers that I’m not a full-time writer. Rather, my main income is from an office job. More accurately, I’m expected to be in the office for two days, with the other three at home.

While I’m at home, I like to listen to YouTube videos, particularly factual and educational ones. Since I started doing this, I’ve become more choosy about the types of videos I like and dislike.

For a start, I need audible narration rather than music and captions. I’ll be looking mainly at my work laptop and it’s not practical to turn to another screen every few seconds to find what I’ve missed. I also find it difficult to listen to synthesised narration; it has to be done by a person if they want my attention.

I have two particular go-to channels that fit this criteria. Firstly, I’ve long been a fan of Tom Scott, who’s now moved on from educational videos to focus on a gameshow called Lateral. Secondly is The Rest is Entertainment, where Richard Osman and Marina Hyde discuss show business, both in front of the camera and behind.

Next, while I don’t travel much in real life, I do it vicariously through channels such as Emma Cruises and Tips for Travellers, who prefer budget and luxury cruises respectively. Conversely, Ruth Aisling and Tom the Taxi Driver like to drive around, albeit in very different places. Jago Hazzard and Geoff Marshall travel on trains, whereas Mentour Pilot – that’s Mentour, not Mentor – talks through aircraft accidents in a way that doesn’t make you want to give up flying.

The connection between this list is that these creators know their subjects inside-out and present them clearly and factually. On the back of these, I’ve reasonably been shown suggestions for other similar channels, with mixed results.

Tom Scott indirectly led me to Wendover Productions who make 20-minute educational videos about all sorts of subjects, plus five-minute versions for smaller topics. On the other hand, watching Mentour Pilot routinely brings up 74 Gear. Both creators are equally qualified aviators, but 74 Gear tends to comment and respond to viral videos in an aggressive manner that I don’t relate to.

There is, however, one exception in the commentary genre, and that’s Gabi Belle, who does it with a lot of humour and insight. She also appears to be madly in love with Gordon Ramsay’s projects. It also took me a while to warm up to Pierogi and Kitboga who go after phone scammers, but I’ve learnt that both have had elderly relatives lose money this way and they don’t want anyone else to fall victim.

This is only a representative sample of my taste, but they all help the working day pass that little more enjoyably.

Lost and Perhaps Found

When I started writing around 2010, I made a point of keeping an archive of my work.

Every story and poem has its own directory, and dated revisions are kept within each one. Plain text doesn’t take up much storage space, so there’s plenty of scope to keep doing this into the future.

About two or three years ago, I was looking for a particular poem I’d written; I knew its title, many of the words, and roughly when it was written. So when the archive showed no results after several attempts, I realised my system had broken down somewhere and wrote it off as a loss. I could have reconstructed it with a little effort, but I never did.

There’s a common misconception about Snapchat that it deletes every picture you send. In fact, you can set it to keep a copy of every picture you add to the My Story feature.

Fortunately, I’d not only set this up, but I’d taken a clear picture of the original handwritten verse four years earlier – and I’m not in the habit of doing that. In February 2022, while looking for something else, I found that picture. The original verse had almost certainly been shredded along with other papers. I swiftly copied the words into a Word document and placed it in the archive.

Luckily this was only a 16-line poem. Other writers have suffered far greater losses. Jilly Cooper, for instance, lost the original manuscript of Riders on a London bus and it took her years to rewrite.

Not all losses are accidental. A significant quantity of drama has been wiped from BBC and ITV archives, including episodes of popular shows like Doctor Who and Dad’s Army. Before the advent of home video, there was little incentive to keep old programmes except to resell them overseas.

In some cases, collectors and members of the public have discovered recordings; some in great condition, others needing significant restoration. The BFI used to hold an annual screening called Missing Believed Wiped, featuring a selection of recovered footage, but I’m unable to find any recent events.

It remains a mystery whether I typed out the poem in 2018 then lost it, or whether it was never typed up in the first place. I’ve nonetheless started backing up my archive locally and online so no further mishaps should happen.

Eight Weeks of Writing Group Independence

Every Tuesday, I run a writing group with a pal. Until eight weeks ago, the group was affiliated with National Novel Writing Month (or NaNoWriMo).

We broke away to form an independent group after we felt the organisation was not working in the best interests of its members. You can read a previous entry exploring the reasons for this.

In the weeks following the announcement, we fielded a few questions from members, largely to reinforce that the new group would feel as familiar as we could make it. Only a couple of people have left, but no more than would have happened anyway.

In short, it’s been something of a velvet divorce.

I’d been running the group for about nine years, while my pal came on board about two years ago. We feel we know what works with our members and what doesn’t, and this secession allows us to take our own actions without needing to toe the line of an umbrella organisation with their own differing priorities.

There are still aspects we need to work out. For instance, we have an outstanding question of how to attract new members without being overwhelmed by new recruits. This, however, is not an urgent problem and we’ll work it out in due course.

Ideas Coming Out My Ears

Occasionally, I sit down to write this blog on a Tuesday only to find my tank of ideas is empty.

At the moment, I have a different problem. I have a list of subjects, but I can’t find a way to start on any of them. For example, today’s entry was meant to be about the problem of plagiarism among poets, but I couldn’t move past the first line.

Instead, let’s pick this up next week, once I’m able to articulate one or more of these ideas.

Sky Writing

If you’ve flown with Ryanair before, you’ll know the company doesn’t have a generous baggage allowance. So when I head off to Dublin for a few days tomorrow, I’ve had to be selective about what I bring for reading and writing for the journey.

I’m definitely bringing my laptop, which will sit alongside my plastic A4 document holder. This comfortably holds my A5 paper diary and a commercial-sized paperback. My current read is The Man Who Died Twice by Richard Osman, and it’s the first time in a long time I’ve wanted to read a whole series.

However, I’m going to visit a pal from university on her birthday weekend. We typically swap cards by post, so I’m taking the opportunity to hand it over in person and I’m including a book, which will take up the other half of that document holder. As such, I’ve decided to take my copy of Writing Magazine to read instead, as it’ll slot nicely into the holder.

This gives me just enough room left to slip in some postcards. I know these went out of fashion with the advent of the text message and they’ll likely arrive home long after I do, but I specifically wanted to send some. I’ve already stuck on the address labels, so it’s just a matter of writing the messages and taking them to a post office, no doubt to the bemusement of the cashier.

A Time for Writing

When I started this blog over a decade ago, the first dozen entries or so were posted at seemingly arbitrary intervals. It was an experimental venture that took a few months to settle into a regular cycle, initially every Monday at 5pm.

It made sense, considering my schedule at the time. I could write the blog over the weekend and then make any tweaks during the day on Monday. These are now posted around 8pm every Tuesday, which coincides with the end of my writing group, so I can use that time to make amendments.

The purpose of this schedule is to keep me producing at least one piece of prose per week. I don’t always manage a full entry, but I always post some text, even if it’s to explain I haven’t managed to write that full entry. Additionally, my Wyverns group membership encourages me to produce at least one piece of poetry every month.

I hear about too many writers – especially beginners – who feel they aren’t real writers unless they set aside a certain length of time every day. Of those, there is a sizeable subset who feel the well-known writing routine of Steven King is the One and Only True Way.

I find this frustrating to hear. One man’s method is not everyone’s method, and it shouldn’t be treated as such.

Some authors swear by keeping a notepad and pen by the bed, or writing in the morning, whereas neither of these work for me. There are a few who consider the activity seasonal, doing the bulk of their work in the summer or winter months.

There are also environmental factors. Bizarrely, one of my favourite places to write used to be in a certain branch of McDonald’s, and I can’t explain why. Maybe I should go back there and see whether it still works.

Once you experiment with your times and figure out what schedule works for you personally, the process will probably become easier.

Taking The Michael

This entry builds upon what was said in the last entry about the Michael Palin TV series Around the World in 80 Days. If you don’t want to know the major plot points, skip this one.

I’d previously managed around half an hour of the first episode before describing it as a posh boys’ club and switching it off. I’m pleased to be proved wrong – albeit only partially.

The third episode is devoted to a seven-day trip on a small boat from Dubai to Mumbai. Everyone on board is expected to muck in with the rigorous daily routines and Palin shows himself to be remarkably adaptable.

But two episodes later, after reaching Hong Kong, a chauffeur is waiting for him with a bottle of champagne. He’s then taken to luxury accommodation and meets several entrepreneurs. It’s clear this is where he feels most at home.

There are also occasions where he would be wise to keep his mouth shut. I found he often felt a need to provide a commentary on what was happening rather than being silently present in the moment. He also asks some questions to female train passengers that seem inappropriate to modern ears.

I’m willing to cut a little slack on that front. The series is around 35 years old now, when Mumbai was still Bombay, plus Hong Kong was yet to be handed back to the Chinese.

On balance, I’m glad I revisited this. By his later series Pole to Pole, he has become better at presenting the places rather than himself, and at handling unexpected situations.

But we can’t talk about Palin’s very real journey without referencing the fictional journey of Phileas Fogg from the source novel Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne.

I’m very much of a mind to read this sooner rather than later, especially as it’s in the public domain and widely available. In fact, Project Gutenberg has an audio version available free of charge, just like its text-based content.

Looking Out for Each Other

One of the best pieces for anyone looking to be published is to fully read the submission guidelines for any publisher you wish to contact.

It came to my attention late last week that Auroras & Blossoms is soliciting submissions with conditions that many writers and editors consider unfair and unorthodox. You can read some reactions to these guidelines online and find links to the publisher’s website.

For someone like me who has made hundreds of submissions to many publishers, I can immediately see what’s wrong. For instance, it’s highly uncommon for a publisher to withhold royalties unless the writer makes a donation. For a beginner writer who hasn’t yet developed that frame of reference, it’s easy to be caught out.

Fortunately, the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association is also worried about this problem. They run a blog called Writer Beware that’s geared towards any author, regardless of genre, highlighting the latest scams, impersonations and general shadiness. Unbelievably, this has been online since 1998.

Shortly before posting this entry, I discussed the blog with a pal. She not only already knew about the Writer Beware blog, but told me she’d brought Christina Kaye to their attention after a bad experience. Since the original post in November 2021, many other writers and industry professionals have added their voices, with a couple of comments even dating from last week.

While the problem of dodgy publishers isn’t new and isn’t going away any time soon, there are at least some in the industry who have your back.

When the Pastiche Becomes the Product

In 2017, I went to see The Square at the cinema, knowing it was meant to be a postmodern send-up of the contemporary arts scene. However, with the disjointed narrative, I came away with the distinct view that the film embodied the very concept it claimed to parody.

I’ve recently been thinking about this idea, but through a different medium. For my poetry circle, I wrote a verse intended as a pastiche of those ‘literary’ poets who often appear from nowhere and are showered with critical acclaim, frequently disappearing just as quickly.

The 19-line verse takes place on the third of January in an unspecified year. It’s from the point of view of two people who have moved to New York from Ireland and Scotland, and how the fantasy of living there has turned into reality. The last few lines were intended to be jarring, switching focus to an unrelated and overlooked secretary preparing to search for another job.

On submitting the poem, I asked the group members to consider the verse first and then to read the explanation. I wanted them to gauge whether – like The Square – the pastiche had become the product.

I think I’ve got away with it. Although there was constructive criticism of some parts, the consensus was that the abrupt change of focus didn’t come across as jarring as I’d intended, with one member saying it was a fitting ending to the piece.

I’m happy with the results of this most unscientific experiment, so I’m not inclined to repeat it for the moment. If I did have the chance to be one of those ‘literary’ one-hit wonders I talked about, though, I’d be inclined to grab it, however fleeting it proved to be.