I posted this as a sneak preview on Twitter, but for those who haven’t seen it yet, here’s a tentative peek at the cover art for Fight the Sky:

I don’t know how the cover will look printed, the images possibly aren’t of a high enough resolution; we shall see. Dan never came through for me with the artwork, so rather than waste time waiting, I decided to use a photograph I took a couple of years ago. I know it isn’t spectacular, but I didn’t know what else to use. I’ll reserve judgment until I see the printed version (a proof is on its way)!

As the for the book’s innards, well, what an escapade that turned out to be…! I’ve just finished a six-hour stint editing files, merging them, correcting errors and then compressing into a PDF with all available digits crossed…I don’t mind if there are further mistakes, just so long as the typesetting is done. StarOffice is so complicated! All I wanted was different header text for each story! Turned into a fucking skirmish, or some shit. I’ve said it before, and one day I’ll learn to stick to this…NEVER AGAIN.

Whatever happens, the hard part is over and done with. It should, theoretically, be all downhill from here!

What else is new, this week? Well, these rather sexy shoes, for a start:

I’m going to wear them to the pictures on Tuesday, which should just about be manageable. I really need to stop buying things purely because they match my hair colour. Speaking of which, the fringe is no longer a diabolical shade of orange…

Just waiting for my roots to come through now, so I can blitz the whole thing with some bleach. Being fabulous is time-consuming, y’know?

I’m being given the Horror section at work, which delights me. Already my mind is formulating a plan for a ‘SAY NO TO SPARKLY VAMPIRES’ dumpbin…speaking of work, I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m in for 8am tomorrow. Time to get the hell off the computer and get to bed, then! And by bed, I mean the settee. Yes folks, I am still boycotting my own bedroom. Quite frankly, I am sick to death of listening to the inbreds next door fake mind-bogglingly impossible orgasms, all the while ignoring one of their uneducated swine children, who cries its way through every. single. night. The settee may not be comfortable, but it allows me to sleep the whole night through, which is all I ask for from life.

Okay, enough of that. Go lie in your nice comfy bed and feel smug, why don’t you? And in the meantime I shall rest my weary head knowing there are only two more sunrises until Final Fantasy XIII…after all this, it best be damn good.

Coffee, cupcakes, literature. Show me something better and it’s probably Johnny Depp sans clothing.

Suddenly, I don’t feel as if I have a venue here, anymore. Isn’t that a shame? I feel as I did with my old Myspace blog towards the end, where I was too afraid to say what I wanted to say, because I was concerned about who was reading it. Well, I have to get the fuck over it. I will die if I do not write. It also is not in my nature to keep my opinions to myself…hot-headed and full of it as I am. I need to rant, BIG TIME, about various things and figures, but once again, my own website that I have slaved over and worked so goddamn hard on and paid out of my own pocket for cannot provide me with a soap box on which to stand. For fuck’s sake.

I finished reading the second Gormenghast book earlier this week, and oh my, did I ever love it! If I make it to Wolverhampton tomorrow, I’ll see if I can pick up the third installment. I treated myself to a new DS game a few days ago as well, one that I didn’t even know was out! Oh, how I’ve missed Ace Attorney. That blasted Kingdom Hearts game can wait.

It’s a matter of days until Final Fantasy XIII!
My PS3 cries out in happiness!

I got cajoled into signing up to Lovefilm. I have a feeling I will cancel this piece of shit service before I ever get a decent amount of use out of it, but still, I’ll rent Bioshock 2 just so I can say my £4 came to something.

On another note entirely(isn’t this all over the place today why yes oh yes it is indeed?) I’ve really enjoyed the Winter Olympics coverage on Eurosport. I’m sad that Johnny Weir (the D is silent) didn’t place on the podium in the mens’ figure skating, because he is fabulous. They should still invite him to the exhibition so he can dance to Lady Gaga and drop a glitterbomb on their too-straight faces. If you have time, you should watch this film – even if you think he’s a sparkly drama queen, you can appreciate his lovely personality. I hope he is as happy in real life as he came across on TV these past couple of weeks.

Right…driving lesson first thing in the morning. So far, so very stressful. I was supposed to be meeting Dan after that, to collect the illustrations for Fight the Sky, but he can’t make it. I’d illustrate it myself but…nah. I’ll just do without drawings inside the book, and try to scrape together something on Photoshop for the front cover. How bad can it be? We shall see…

I hope I find the motivation to write on here again, soon. Until then you get bullshit updates such as this one, so enjoy. Oh, and I’m deleting WRAW.

Roses are red,
violets are blue,
they’ll need dental records
to identify you.

“Nomwatch” now has its own tag on the sidebar. There are a couple of other new additions, if you care to spare a glance.

Observe, Jaster parading round the living room with an empty packet of Monster Much engulfing his head:

He’s such a maniac! He likes tea, biscuits, steals toast from your plate, quite enjoys the odd pizza crust if he can swipe it while you aren’t looking…what a hoodlum! Chip has also been feeling adventerous lately, though not quite on the same deranged level:

They keep me on my toes, I guess.

Anyway, you may have noticed that the ‘Work’ category is gone. That is a decision I have made and will be sticking to…that part of my life stays away from the internet, permanently.

I’m staring down the barrel of two days off in a row…I plan to get a few things done. First of all, I will rise at a sensible hour tomorrow (ie. not before 6am, thank you very much) and devise a plan for the latest chapter of Nom. I’ve decided to write out a few characters this time around, and one of them is quite important…I’m now at the point where the resolution of a chapter actually revolves around this character, so I have to think up a suitably insane scenario to replace the passage I already have. I’ve got a couple of ideas, but that’s all they are so far. I need to spend an hour or so brainstorming so that when I sit at the computer, I don’t just end up surfing the web aimlessly. I need a rabid St. Bernard chained to my leg, making sure I don’t procrastinate.

I don’t think there’s much more to say. I put £600 in my savings account this month, and will try to add at least half that amount again when the 20th rolls around. Wednesday is the open day at Warwick…let’s hope I feel inspired there.

For now, enjoy some Keats, and find yourself wishing you had half his talent like I do:

To Sorrow,
I bade good-morrow,
And thought to leave her far away behind;
But cheerly, cheerly,
She loves me dearly;
She is so constant to me, and so kind:
I would deceive her
And so leave her,
But ah! she is so constant and so kind.

Hey,

I cut my fringe back in, because I was sick of the sight of my own forehead:

Having another yawnerific “discussion” with Rob via Facebook concerning tennis. He seems bothered by my opinion that today’s Australian Open final was a disappointment. Last year’s was one of the best matches I’ve ever seen (it wasn’t as spectacular as the semi with Verdasco, especially as the final’s fifth set was an exhibition of exhaustion, but it was still fantastic) and this year, whatever way you look at it, doesn’t compare. Of course he brings up my ass-kissing of Nadal, as I predicted he would – I have a favourite player, so what? I don’t even need to bring out the stats and video replays to show you who the better player is, so I won’t. Fact is, Nadal wouldn’t have won today if he had been in the final – in his current form, I would say he’d take a set, at the most. But that’s not the point; Nadal didn’t get to the final, he is injured, he has not been playing his best.

What about His Holiness The Great And Revered Messiah Andrew “Very Angry All The Time” Murray? He is on form, he has played some great tennis this tournament, and as the media have not failed to point out in recent days, this was his best chance of his entire career thus far of winning a slam final. And he didn’t do it. I’m sure he’ll have another chance. Despite my firm belief that Roger Federer is a cyborg sent from outer space, he must surely show signs of aging at some point within the next ten years, thus causing his dominance to fade. I think Muzza’s real chance comes then, which would be sad in a way…if, to finally win a slam, he has to wait for the world’s best to diminish, it’s not a great reflection on him as a player looking to create a legacy. The great thing about Rafa and Roger’s inimitable rivalry is that, no matter who is playing better at which time on what surface in whichever country, they have both beaten each other in the big events when it really counts, and they have so much more respect for each other because of that simple fact.

Still, the comments keep things interesting, I suppose. I relish differences in opinion, it’s what life is all about. It’s futile to argue such things, but as it’s my profile I posted it on, nobody has to read it, and if they should want to comment, then I will always reply. Common courtesy, y’know?

Anyway, Nadal’s knees are playing up again (and I do worry about him, but I’m confident that if he doesn’t stress and takes his time, he’ll still be able to play at the top level for a few years yet) and has been ruled out for the next four weeks. I have not rooted for anybody else over the last six years of my life, so I’m at a loss, and I’m trying to think who I cheered on when the knees ruled him out last year…oh, of course, The Back-Up Spaniards. These include Fernando “Double Fault” Verdasco, Felicity Lopez and David “Can’t String Two Wins Together” Ferrer. It will be interesting to see which of the top players get off to a good start. Federer’s a given, but I’d like to see Djokovic do well. I think the tour needs a bit of crazy; he isn’t criminally boring like some of the others are. He’s a headcase, but I like it.

Anyway, on ONTD Tennis there was a guy love thread. Some of the shared photos were too cute not to share:

IT’S GUY LOVE

THAT’S ALL IT IS

IT’S GUY LOVE

HE’S MINE, I’M HIS

NOTHIN’ GAY ABOUT IT IN OUR EYES

IT’S GUY LOVE

BETWEEN TWO GUYS

And with that, let’s hope 2010 is a good one for tennis. I expect Delpot will steal another slam, and if Cilic improves on his confidence, then from what we’ve seen so far, we could have a few different faces cropping up in finals, which would be nice.

Right, well, enough of that. Today is my designated writing day. I have to finish typing up my Snodgrass notes (it’s best if you don’t ask) and make a start on the next chapter of Nom…although it’s a beasty one.  We’ll see what happens. I will also see to my toothache & headache combination, and hopefully get some reading done. All in a Sunday’s work.

Dear Rafa’s knees,
I must confess,
your behaviour brings me
much distress,

This poor young man
did all he could
to battle past
the horrid Muzz,

and yet you
hold him back again!
Why can’t you be
more of a friend?

The boy did try
his very best,
but could not get past
that leg-long pest!

It’s time, I feel,
you went away.
Rafa needs knees
that want to play,

and as you’re not
up to the task,
there’s just one question
left to ask:

Will you leave quietly,
without fuss?
Or must I drag you,
tied and trussed?

I’ve tired of you,
dear Rafa’s knees;
you bring him pain
when there’s no need,

Without you,
he would do just fine;
more first serves in,
balls down the line,

more first pumps,
‘VAMOS!’, Toni cheers!
Rafa plays on
all through the years,

The next slam final
he’s sure to win,
with the old knees out
and a new pair in.

So now, dear knees,
it’s down to you,
I expect you’ll be gone
in a day or two,

We’ll take care of him,
our Spanish friend,
and at Melbourne next year,
he’ll reach a happier end.

I graduated! AT LAST!

It was so good to have Jack there. I didn’t hang around to party or anything, but I feel as if those days are behind me now. Life begins.

Congratulations to everyone else that graduated in the class of 2009. Apart from the usual bitches who wish me no happiness, I’m sure. Y’all can suck on my First Class Honours degree and fuckin’ like it.

Tomorrow will be a busy day. I’m going to make sure I get as much of the following done as is humanly (Sineadly? GODLY?) possible:

• WAKE UP
• GET UP
• FUSS OVER RABBITS
• EAT TOAST DRINK GRAPE JUICE REPEAT
• Tidy up desk, hang degree certificate somewhere
• Edit AT LEAST one of the short stories for the collection
• Check out the job site Lucy recommended
• Complete editorial exercise for job in London
• Print off forms for Master’s degree funding
• Enjoy/lament Rafa’s 4th round match [delete where applicable]
• EAT BIG SUNDAY DINNER YES
• Write up latest edited chapter of C.O.N.
• Finish reading Titus Groan

…that’s a lot. I won’t get it all done, but I’ll give it a go.

** I have removed two paragraphs of text for privacy reasons **

Take a look at this:

The top piece is part of a photocopy of a Christian hymn. I don’t know what the urdu(? that’s a complete guess) translates to, but something tells me it might say the same as the second piece underneath does. I’ll try to remember to scan in the reverse of these snippets next time.

“Great is the mystery of faith”

I think that’s beautiful, frustrating, haunting and true, all at once. Belief is different from faith. I believe in god with a small ‘g’, and there is no need for faith in anything else. I don’t understand atheists. They are just following anti-Gods. These forgotten pieces of paper didn’t make me think too long or hard, but it did make me realise; faith, whether it be in a God or a god or a non-god or a nothing, is a mystery, indeed. There is always something that we will fail to understand about the people around us, which is wonderful.

Just a thought. On with the week. We’re nearly there.

Well, tomorrow will be the grateful end of the last three years of my life. I’m graduating…at nine o’ clock in the morning…fuckin’ Derby Uni, useless as ever!

I have my dress planned and ready (and by “ready” I mean screwed up in a ball and on the floor somewhere, doubtless hidden beneath other clothes), tickets at hand, a camera to charge, and to top it all off…major toothache. Today was my second appointment in the Save Sinead’s Teeth Whilst Causing Her As Much Pain As Is Humanly Possible campaign. Lady Dentist cries GREAT SUCCESS.

I consoled myself with books. My Stephen King collection is getting out of hand…soon, one bookcase won’t be enough.

I don’t doubt that graduation-related photos will materialise over the weekend…aren’t you thrilled? For now, I’m going to relax with what remains of Titus Groan, attempt to eat some soup with bread & butter (seriously, she used so much anaesthetic, I can’t feel my face at all), enjoy some more stunning tennis courtesy of the Australian Open, and go to bed early. Looks like a disgracefully early start tomorrow, to get there for half seven.

I bought the same A7X shirt twice, one black with white print and the other white with black print (see above). I really need to learn some self control. Whenever I pluck up the courage to pick up the phone this week (I have serious phone-phobia) I will call my bank and request new details for my savings account, so I can hide some of my money from myself. I don’t know whether I’ll be savings for my Master’s or a flat deposit or extra driving lessons or what have you, but it doesn’t really matter.

This week’s going to take forever to piss off. I have another dreaded dentist appointment (I’m in agony, by the way – the new dentist is certainly more efficient, but she is also more deadly with the face-clamp) and graduation to contend with…as well as a jam packed work schedule. ** Original text has been deleted for privacy reasons ** Plus there’s the fact that I can’t live without money and there are no other jobs out there…c’mon lottery, it’s about time you came through for me.

I’ve got a LittleBigPlanet date with Tom later, and before that swings round I want to watch some of last year’s Australian Open highlights and read a bit more of Titus Groan. Reading Mervyn Peake’s fiction is like jumping in at the deep end with big, heavy biker boots on. I’m learning so many new words. I went to bed early last night (seriously…asleep by half nine) and my mother gave me her beasty dictionary for “light reading”. I looked up all of the words I didn’t understand in the first chapter. Maybe I should start an IMPROVE YOUR ENGLISH WITH MERVYN PEAKE feature, so you can all learn along with me. The man was a human thesaurus!

Also, I’m so so SO glad the tennis season is starting up again! In fairness, it doesn’t feel like it ever stopped. Asutralian Open coverage starts at midnight!! Bring it on!! Ah yes, and kudos to Federer for arranging a fundraising event for Haiti (link may be restricted if you’re not a member of ONTD Tennis). I just like the mental image of him texting Rafa, asking him to join in. So sweet.

I’ll leave with you this awesome video of Serena, Roger and Kim having fun, and Rafa taking everything super seriously:

Bless him!