I dashed off to Paris for the weekend and had a fabulous time. The end.

….oh, you just wish that was how it’s gonna go down!

It’s the 10th of June 2010, quarter to four in the morning, and I’m sitting in the living room packing my Pierre Cardin suitcase for what is sure to be a memorable trip…oh yes folks, I went to Paris. Alone. On the 5am train, taking the underground to St. Pancras, seeking out the Eurostar. AMAZING. I was umming and ahhing over whether to go, and then my mum said something indescribably wise that really struck me (“these are the moments you work for”) and from then on, my mind was set.

I’ll share a few of my favourite photographs with you…

I arrived at the hotel around 1.30pm on Thursday…I was shattered, so I immediately flopped onto the bed and slept for two and a half hours. After waking, I got changed and took the Metro (genius in transport form) to the Eiffel Tower, and after enjoying an ice cold coke (original, ‘cos Diet is for bitches who don’t know any better) I walked alongside the Seine until the Louvre found me; I then caught the Metro and went back to the hotel to write. I didn’t take my camera out with me Thursday evening, so there aren’t any shots of le Tour Eiffel…but c’mon now, we’ve seen it a thousand times before.

On Friday morning I dressed, felt truly happy to be alive, and walked to the Seine…it took about 45 minutes, and the sun was radiant and brilliant, so I didn’t mind at all. I then walked alongside the river once again and ended up at the Ile de la Cité…and headed straight for Notre Dame. Words and pictures can’t do such a beautiful place justice, so promise me that you’ll see it for yourself one day. The bricks and gargoyles whisper of history, whilst the stained glass faces look on and on and on and on, anon.

I left Our Lady after an hour or so and made for the Metro once more…on the way I was accosted by an overly-enthusiastic Frenchman who couldn’t speak English to save his life…I’m rusty and struggled with my French…but we managed a conversation by ways of merging our mush of words into Frenglish, or as he called it, Franglais. After various confused compliments which are still out there somewhere, hopelessly lost in translation (“You have a face! Uh, I mean…theatre? You do theatre?”) he asked me out for drinks but I informed him that I have in fact seen the film Taken, and so won’t be going anywhere with strange men in Paris for the forseeable future. He didn’t understand. Bless.

I crossed the city and went to the Pere Lachaise Cimitiere to visit Oscar Wilde…as always, sir, it was an honour to meet you. I love that graveyard (what an odd thing to say). It’s very peaceful and easy to walk through…if you skirt the groups of bored school children and beleagured American tourists, it’s a nice way to spend a few hours.

The rest of the day was spent in Starbucks wandering through the Louvre, another incredible place that no pictures could properly capture. I did my best…

I love Paris. That’s where I want to be. I bought a postcard of Notre Dame and wrote “work for it” on the back. I will, I promise. If you want to see the rest of the photos from my Parisian adventure, click the big ol’ link below:

PARIS 2010: PHOTOLOG

I came back to England to find SOGGY SHITTY WEATHER that copies of Fight the Sky have appeared at Waterstone’s Birmingham New Street – exciting! Now to actually sell one…and die happy. Marley’s also been keeping informed about the promo video’s progression and oh lord, it’s gonna be good!

“This is the dream what we are living, after all.”

…did I really just quote my own poem? Fuck yeahhhhh.

Whoever, however, wherever you are, and whoever you might want to be: smile, and have a fantastic day. I’m sure you deserve it.

That girl…
Where is she going?
When will she be back?

Since last she wrote, Rafael Nadal has won the French Open title, defeating The Swede Who Must Not Be Named in straight sets (6-4 6-2 6-4). As a performance, it was comprehensive and emphatic in its brilliance. I hark on about him because he’s a lovely, professional, respectful young man who is a claycourt killing machine deserving of all his hard-fought glory. Today brings him his fifth Roland Garros championship, his seventh Grand Slam title, his 38th win on the claycourts of Paris, and that coveted return to World Number One. Federer’s pursuit of Agassi’s record shall have to wait for a while longer…sorry, Roger. Congratulations, Rafa.

Bring on the grasscourt season!

Well, I’ve been doing a fair amount of reading this weekend, in the hopes that it will inspire me to get some writing done over the next few days. As we speak I’m having a crack at a fresh idea, and last night I also spent an hour typing up some Icarus-related notes. Whether anything good will come of it is another matter entirely, but it feels good to be trying again.

I’ll have more to say on here when I feel I have the energy to type anything of a decent length and depth. I’m a bit anti-internet at the moment because it requires so much patience. I’m feeling the benefits of spending less time clacking on a keyboard and more time relaxing (though no matter what I do, I still can’t get enough sleep).

There is so much to say

but my fingers are feeling anti-social

and so I shall not say it.

RAFAEL “NICE ASS-ETS” NADAL defeats ROGER “THE GOAT” FEDERER

6-4 7-6(5)

to win the Madrid Master’s 1000 2010

So, Rafael, what have you achieved today?

• First player in history to win all three claycourt Master’s titles in the same season.
• Surpasses André Agassi as the player to win the most Master’s titles in their career – Nadal now has 18 of the blessed things, and he’s only 23-years-old.
• In their 21st meeting, Nadal beats Federer for the 14th time.
• He has now won 168 of 174 matches played on clay since 2005.

Living legend, you can look but don’t touch.

Oh, and Federer played well and was very gracious in defeat (although Nadal apologised again – the Swiss maestro must get sick of hearing “Roger I sorry”, no?). Still, I hope someone makes a .gif of that final point and writes ‘FAIL’ across the middle of it.

For one moment with Keats
I would cut off my leg,
twist my arm around,
drive nails through my head;
To lie next to Byron
I would come at another
with a knife in one hand,
or a pillow to smother;
Poe’s company inspires me
to run from this town,
walking all day and night
to hunt the man down;
and King, though he lives,
I must class as a Great -
he could command me at will
to do all that I hate;
I crave literary minds
to feed my abscess,
chewing on metaphor,
mulling over success!
Sat around a table,
five Greats taking lunch,
we’d talk politics, rollicking
through tea, supper, brunch.
‘Beauty!’ Keats cries,
‘is the truth of it all!’
I expect Byron’s more taken
by the boy in the hall
who lingers at the door,
listening in on his own,
(his name’s Gaiman or Pullman
or some other unknown);
Poe makes the bones shake
as he discusses with King
the virtues of vampires
and other curious things;
and if conversation dips,
we can call on a friend;
Shelley or Milton
might chatter no end!
And when the evening’s done
I’ll retire with a smile,
bid my companions good night,
my eyes bright all the while.
We’ll convene again soon,
when the night suits us all;
Until then, I must wait
for those Great Minds to call…

Fight the Sky: A Collection of Short Stories by Sinéad Kent

Fight the Sky is a collection of short stories by Wolverhampton-based author, Sinéad Kent. Some are surreal in nature, others tragic, and the rest are downright ridiculous!

From the back cover:

“A painter with no hope; a woman with no memory; a detective with no future; a carrot without a clue. These characters, amongst others, are found in Fight the Sky, a collection of short stories.

Within these pages lie worlds ranging from the curious to the ridiculous, from the impossible to the obscene. Join a cast of unlikely ladies, gentlemen and vegetables as they teach you how not to cross the road, tell you all about their bad day at work, encourage you to fly and, most importantly of all, remind you to always keep your fingers to yourself! Join the freakshow’s content caretaker, the distressed young constable, the wily old graverobber and various others are you journey through this collection of the weird and wonderful!”

List of contents:

• Painting
• Only Mine
• A Carrot Seeking Freedom
• Rusty Halo
• Eyebridge
• See: Testimonials
• Cogs
• Finger Trade
• Let’s See Again Now
• Three Places
• Never Seen the Sky

The book is priced at £7.99 and is available from various online retailers:

• Lulu.com (the fastest way to order, direct from the printer!)
• Amazon.co.uk / .com
• Waterstones.com
• WHSmith.co.uk
• Play.com

It will also be available in Waterstone’s branches in the Birmingham area. Please contact stores in advance to enquire about availability.

You can also buy a signed copy direct from Painting Lies, using your Paypal account or a credit/debit card! Just click the button below and follow the simple instructions that will take you through the checkout procedure. Please note that we ask for £1 p&p per copy to cover postage costs. If you live outside the UK, postage will cost more – please enquire before sending payment!

Alternatively, you can pay via personal cheque. For £7.99, we will send the book straight to your door. Please send us an e-mail with your full name, preferred delivery address and the number of copies you require (postage and packing is £1 per book). Your book(s) will be posted to you once payment has cleared.

This is going to be a worthless photo-blog featuring self-portraits and cute, fluffy rabbits. Life’s a blur at the moment and I’m finding it difficult to distinguish the days.

I’m annoyed that David “Our Dave” Cameron is Prime Minister. I understand the first past the post system and all that, but look at it this way: 64% of the population did NOT vote for that spoiled twit. And still we’re stuck with him? I imagine most of the Lib Dem supporters must be gutted. Who’d have thought that a vote for Nick “Glory of our nation, let’s turn the election campaign into X-Factor vs. Rage 2.0, oh shit now he’s sleeping with the DEVIL?” Cleggers would turn out to be a vote for the Conservative Party? Oh dear! Think twice before you vote based on one decent debate performance, next time. And I don’t aim that comment at ALL Lib Dem voters, just at the ones who, like many on my Facebook friends list (I’ve since deleted my profile, by the way), thought it was some kind of Britain’s Got Talent audition and put no thought into their decision whatsoever.

To be fair to Our Dave (which I generally won’t be, as I have a feeling he won’t be all that fair to me and my ilk in the months to come), whoever got into office this time was mortally fucked, what with the debt mountains and crumbling economical issues. If he turns around and surprises us all by not cutting off the working class and watching as we drown in the Channel, then I’ll give him a chance. Honestly, though, I’m not holding out much hope.

This week I’ve got two book orders to process…one for Gardners (which is the “test run” order I placed at work – look like it’s going to be easy enough to get it stocked regularly) and the other with Bertram’s. I’ll sort that this weekend. I got the photographs back from Nicky (NKM Photography) so I can now pull together a press release of some kind, and send a story off to the Express & Star, the Chronicle, etc. I’m also going to send a little something off to Pool Hayes, suggesting they maybe buy a copy for their library…that would be pretty awesome.

On the university front…I’ve dragged together a personal statement of some kind for the Warwick application, and I’ve also put together a 10 page portfolio. I got back one of the academic references (in an unmarked, sealed, sinister envelope that I am dying to open) and am now just waiting on the second so that I can send it off. I’ll probably have to hang around until the 20th (THE HOLY BLESSED DAY KNOWN AS PAYDAY I SAY LORD THANK YA!)  so I have the spare cash to submit it…£30 just to apply, daaaamn.

Money is an issue in general, really, though isn’t it always? My mum wants to borrow £350 so she can get the car fixed and it’s just…urgh. I’ll do it because if the car works, I can theoretically use it to speed along my driving progress (I’m avoiding booking a lesson this week, and shall lie to instructor saying I was ‘busy’ despite the fact I have no tangible life, because I hate driving), thus increasing the chances of me escaping the country at short notice, should the day ever come when I am able. I tweeted this little statistic, but here it is again for those of you who don’t follow my Twitter: my student debt is an impressively depressing £22,075.81. Looks like I’m trapped in England for the duration, then.

I’m enjoying Adam Lambert’s album at the moment, because it’s dramatic, soaked in glitter and fun to sing along to:

Oh, and before I go…this website is a year old this month. Time flies!

Click here to read all about Rafael “Living Legend” Nadal, who today won his fifth Rome Master’s title, two weeks after kicking ass and breaking records in Monte Carlo. Rafa now has 17 Master’s titles to his name – one more than Federer, and the same number as Andre Agassi, who holds the record for most  Master’s titles ever. Don’t forget that this GQ M.F. is just 23 years old! He’ll more than likely break the record this year. <3 We are all so proud of you, bb.

I’m collecting together links of where you can find Fight the Sky listed:

• Amazon.co.uk
• Amazon.com
• Play
• WH Smith
• Waterstones.com

If you see it anywhere else, let me know. I also got my first commercial order today, from Bertrams wholesalers! So far as I can tell, I’ll be printing the books myself for this order, then invoicing them once we’ve negotiated a discount…which hopefully won’t leave me in the red. We shall see!

Oh, and if any of you who have read the book/are reading it could possibly stick a quick (and honest!) review up on Amazon/Lulu, that would be AMAZING and I would thank you with free copies of my re-published poetry collection when it’s ready.

This publishing malarkey is exhausting. I still don’t have the promo pictures to send off to the papers…hopefully they will come through soon. Until then, I am going to relax, do a quick re-draft of my personal statement for my uni application(!!!), take a hot shower and pass out. Phew!

A rare moment of peace, shared with the craziest rabbit on the planet.

When he was little(!! I am seriously considering “The Kraken” as his middle name, he’s just so gosh darn big these days) he would come and sit with me for hours, but now he’s too busy dashing about, living the life of a sexually frustrated teenager. Honey, we’ve all been there. Anyway, to have him lounge about with me was lovely, and after looking at these pictures, I can almost forgive him for all his naughtiness.

I have developed a mundane and predictably feminine interest in self-inflicted French manicures, due to the fact that otherwise, my nails are permanently stained pink because of my choice in hair colourant. Oh good. I actually quite enjoy doing it, although it’s annoying when it gets chipped at work. Fuckin’ books.

Today I actually made a vague stab at writing a statement of intent for my application to the University of Warwick. I’m going for the humorous approach because as they say, if you ain’t laughing, you’re crying. So, so true. I’ve also pulled together the required ten page portfolio, although I’m possibly not the best judge of my own work. I find it hard to distinguish between I like this story and this story is good, because honestly, I’ve read them all so many goddamn times now, they all blend into one sorry lump of mush. MUSH WORDS. MUSH STORY. MUSH MUSH MUSH.

…I’m thinking of huskies, for some reason.

Anyway, it will all be okay. I’ll be sad if I get rejected and will take it out on myself by cutting out yet another food I love. Such as bread. I want to apply and get accepted somewhere because I feel as if I need new direction in my life. You get out of university, after three years of a degree course, after two years of A-Levels, after Nom-knows-how-many years of school, and then…nothing. No guidance, no sense of purpose, absolutely sod all! Well, I’m fighting for that left turn again, because I really need to take it. It’s either that or go completely mad again.

Let’s wrap this one up by saying that Fight the Sky is listed for pre-order on Amazon, though if you order through there, I don’t actually know how it would get to you. Here’s hoping Lulu are more clued up than me! It’s on Play.com as well, which was a nice surprise. Distribution is still being set up, so if you must buy it at all (and you must. No really, buy it now.) I would recommend going through my Lulu store for the time being. Still waiting for photographs so I can submit a story to the Express & Star…

I have a feeling there was more to say, but then again, there usually is. My memory fails me once again. Back to the settee I go, hopefully with some kind of savoury sandwich (chicken noodles or pasta in tomato sauce or egg fried rice mmmm dear lord YES) with a view to watch tennis for the remainder of the evening. A good day to you all.