End as you mean to go on. Or should that be start? We’re on the edge of 2011, staring down the barrel of 2012. I’m wrapping up this mad, tangled year with a cup of tea and a seat by the fire, basking in the glow of twenty-one successful eBay listings and the wonderful news that one of my poems has been published in the latest issue of Railroad. It’s a good way to wrap up 2011, and before I look ahead I would like to look back at everything else that’s occurred.

2011 was the year I…

…left the country.

At the end of February, after months of planning, I quit my job in the bookshop and travelled across the United States. They were the best weeks of my life. I cannot understate my gratitude and love for the people I met, the friends I made, lessons learned and experiences enjoyed. I wish I could do it all again only this time without it ending. Relive my USA adventure: here, here , here and here.

…recorded an audiobook.

Marley is probably the hardest working person I know. He keeps an eye on us unruly artists with his production company, Naplew Productions, and seems to have an endless supply of creative projects and brilliant ideas. I love him and loved working with him on the Fight the Sky audiobook, the making of which almost killed me, but I do adore the end result. Have you downloaded it yet? Have you laughed at my pitiful croaking towards the end?

…released Revolve.

2010 was all about my short stories collection. This year I released a second book under the Painting Lies imprint, a poetry collection called Revolve. It collects together pieces from 2004, right up to my return from America at the start of this year. I’m proud of it. Poetry is personal and it can be daunting to “get it out there” and into people’s hands, but I’ve managed it with this little book. I was also thrilled that the GoodReads promotional giveaway attracted over 700 entries from around the world. Still waiting on that first Amazon review, though…

…lived in a tent.

Between May and mid-October I lived in a tent in The Netherlands, working for a holiday company. I did this because I wanted to try something new, and also because I wanted the experience of working abroad. It was testing and an emotional drain at times, but I’m glad I did it. I met some wonderful people, got really into baking and fell head over heels in love with Holland. It’s best summed up by the poem I wrote, All Roads Lead To Duinhell.

…made a comeback.

After moving back to England, I went back from whence I came (for a short time, at least). I got a temporary position at the bookshop again. I sold a few books, found a few familiar, friendly faces, and slipped back into the routine of Wake, Work, Curse The Rail Service, Repeat.

…finished a novel.

I started writing a story, Doors, in May 2010, after Fight the Sky was published. I took it seriously then and still do now. On New Year’s Eve 2010 I completed the first draft, and have spent all of 2011 re-drafting and crafting it into something nigh on presentable. I’m happy with it and plan to publish it in the summer, if all goes to plan…

…started a new novel.

In November I set my heart on a follow-up to Doors. This will conclude the overall story, and kiss goodbye to another chapter of my life. For now, I’m calling this second novel Flipside. It’s still early days but it’s good to have that first draft creativity flowing again.

…lived alone.

Two days after returning from Holland, I moved into my own place. I’m in love with the solitude and can’t complain for all the space and opportunity I have to write, which is really all I’ve ever wanted to do. I know I can’t keep it forever, so I’m going to enjoy Solo Life while it lasts, and get as much out of it as possible. The day will come when I have to force my infurirating habits and obsessive behaviours on other human beings again, so we all might as well enjoy the peace for the time being.

…walked away.

There have been no specific confrontations, but I’ve walked away from many situations this year. I have no interest in struggling over things, or fretting, or worrying who or what or when I’ve caused an upset. At the beginning of 2011 I decided to Just Roll With It, and it’s a philosophy I can see myself sticking with. No arguments, no unnecessary emotion, no chasing after people or letting myself get hurt. Just pick yourself up and get on with it. Walk away if you have to. And if you can mend it later, try.

2012 is the year I will…

…try veganism.

I’ve been harking on about this for a few years now, and this time I mean to try. Since moving back to England I’ve been gradually removing dairy from my diet, and I think I’ll do okay. I can give this a decent chance. If It doesn’t work for me, I’ll be able to say I gave it serious effort. Here goes nothin’.

…publish a(nother) book.

Doors is coming. I want the second half ready by the end of the year. Push push push yourself apply apply apply and make somebody take notice.

…spread the word rather thin.

I will enter writing competitions (even the ones there is no hope of winning), I will find a writing group, I will talk to more writers, I will Get Myself Out There, I will try and I will believe. I will be nice. And most importantly, I will enjoy.

…study.

There’s a small plan forming, involving a course in the spring, and if all goes well, another in the summer. I don’t know what will come of it so I’m saying nothing more for now, in case it never happens. But I know self-improvement is an on going, wondrous thing that doesn’t come easy, so I’m taking steps over the next twelve months to progress myself further. There is always something you can be better at.

I’m looking forward to reading everybody’s hopes and resolutions for the New Year. I hope everybody enters it happy and achieves what they set out to. And hey, if the world’s still around at the close, maybe we can have this conversation again.

Try not to lose sight of what inspires you. You might change, and grow, and move on, but remember that the flicker came to you once. Words that were powerful to you then are still magical now, if you read them the right way. People don’t stop being brilliant, they just forget how to show it.

Now darlin’, don’t you ever grow up.

this post is brought to you by one hour’s worth of sleep.

I no longer work in that darned book shop…I will not miss offering the linksave. I will, however, miss the people there quite badly. Find a way to go on without me, guys~~~~~

If you’re bored (current browsing situation suggests you most certainly are) go to Google and type orange battered chips into the images search box. All out fuckery ensues:

Everybody I’ve told about this has laughed at me. At first I wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or defiantly proud, but after today’s happenings, I’ve settled on the latter. To tell this sorry tale, I will first share the story behind me making this terrible discovery in the first place. Orange battered chips are a staple of any self-respecting Wolverhampton-inhabiting humanoid’s diet; they may look frightening, but if you’ve grown up eating them every once in a while, it’s perfectly usual. Honest. Anyway my dearest Naomi told me she’d never tried them had in fact never heard of them DISGRACE I cried! Onto Google I went to track down a photograph of the rare delicacy so I could @reply to her on Twitter showing her what she has been missing out on for twenty-three years…and lo and behold, what do I find? A photograph of myself dressed as Poison Ivy, from last Halloween, sitting pretty in the top row. Y’WHAT? I cry. WHAT AM I DOING HERE? WHAT’S GOING ON?

…Turns out I mentioned chips in a blog I wrote around the time of the Halloween party, so, mystery solved. The story don’t finish here though, kiddo – today I took Naomi and Louise, both non-believers in the ways of the orange batter, into the chip shop on St. Anne’s Road that serves them up…and introduced them to the bright, perfectly healthy looking things. They liked them. We ate loads. I now live on in hope that one day I could perhaps be the number one search result for orange battered chips on Google Images, and not just number two. Will it help if I keep saying orange battered chips over and over and over again? orange battered chips orange battered chips orange battered chips orange you glad i didn’t say banana.

Fascinating.

Love is knowing that no matter how many “friends” you surround yourself with, there will always be those patient few who wait for you, the only ones that really care. This short, curly one just happens to linger on Asda carparks at 4am, wearing a transparent plastic poncho, bag of vegibo in hand. That funny lookin’ pop star might catch a grenade for ya, but she’d stay up ’til 6am for me, walking in the rain past Molineux with other enjoyable nutters. I know which I prefer. Thank you Nat, Lisa, Naomi, Stephen, Louise, Alex and Brett for a last night of Royal London and Babylon fun.

The past few days have involved lots of socialising and partying to make up for the fact that I’m buggering off to America for weeks upon weeks and will forget everybody’s ghastly faces. I can’t see everyone, but that’s okay. If I’ve missed you out I’ll just have to see you when I get back.

Everybody’s behaving like I’m not coming back. Some of the comments I’ve received have been downright funereal, grim stuff what would make Dani Filth proud. We all could kick the bucket at any moment, why focus on me and my harebrained escape plan? I’ll be back, pretty darling, and I still won’t be making any sense. In the meantime there will be blood/postcards.

We’ll shelve that thought and come back to it another time. Now, where were we? Ah yes, unemployment. I will enjoy the next few days of freedom before the flight. Tomorrow will involve early morning cake baking (coffee and walnut, want a slice?), lunch with Sue and Jack at Chiquito and, I am quite certain, several other classy scrapes I will talk myself into before I sleep.

Self-respect. Bottle it and sell me some.
Two wonderful photos stolen from friends to close:

…where would you be, if you could be anywhere at all?

I thought once I’d got things sorted, I’d feel ready to start work again. Now I have a job sorted for September, I have my room 90% complete, I have some form of social life…but I still can’t pick up a pen. I feel physically sick when I think about writing.

What’s wrong with me? I feel happiest when I’m creative. It’s the only time I actually put my brain to use. So I sort out things in my life, thinking that will get things off my mind, and yet here I am, still unable to do anything productive.

Tom is too far away. Only money would rectify that. And I have none.
This patience of mine is wearing thin.

You can have skirting board shoes
and plug sockets on your knees,
I’ll hang a painting on your lip
and put tinsel ’round it at Christmas.

You can’t keep us inside much longer, pal.
We’ve seen the view from the window.

It’s glorious outside!
Have you seen the time?
Have you seen the tide?”

- from ‘Wall’ by Enter Shikari.

I am quite sure that I am being replaced.