Rob Wickings's Blog, page 10
December 30, 2023
The Excuses And Half Truths Annual Report 2023
And lo, it came to pass the days known as Betwixtmas fell upon the land. The people were filled with dolor and langour, picking listlessly at food prepared days before, gradually becoming as one with their sofas, eyes wide but unseeing as yet another rerun of that Only Fools And Horses Christmas special with the hilarious Batman bit unspools on the telly.
Woe and alas, even yr humble author was afflicted with the inability to recognise the passage of time, and so it was late in the week before he realised he should get his lazy arse off his armchair and grubby mitts out of the tin of Quality Street, lest his beloved Readership be deprived of the high quality bloggertainment on which they had become so dependent.
Greetings, then, from the library at Littlecote House in Berkshire, the venue for this year’s overview of Events What Has Happened. TLC and I have retreated to this bucolic country retreat to break up that Betwixtmas feeling and get some gentle relaxitude into our aching raddled corpuses. As Storm Gerrit rattles the 500 year-old rafters, we’re indulging in all the tea and cake we can cram into our feed holes, braving the weather after the rain passes to bimble in the surrounding woodlands.
Let us, while musing on the choice between fruit and cheese scone, Darjeeling or Orange Pekoe, take a moment to look back on 2023. I’m sure you have your memories, good and ill. Here are mine.
In Rob’s Writing Life, progress was made, although forward momentum was a little slower than Rob promised himself 365 days previously. The year began with a successful public launch of the Reading Writers short story collection The Three B’s. It was a project begun in lockdown, which resulted in an award for Best Group Anthology from NAWG: The National Association Of Writing Groups. It took us until the Covid closedowns were fully in the rear view mirror before we could push the book properly. The gathering at Reading’s iconic Tutu’s Ethiopian Table was truly joyful, and a packed room enjoyed readings, eatings and drinkings until the sun went down. Well, it was January, after all.
Reading Writers kept me on my toes through the year, with two seasonal competitions, an Exquisite Corpse event in the summer and, in a massive push outside my comfort zone, I hosted a day-long event at Excuses Mansions for five aspiring novelists. This was a big deal—to say I was nervous is like saying Boris Johnson wasn’t a very good Prime Minister. The day was, I think, I hope, a success. Everyone involved is still talking to me, anyway.
As a knock-on effect, the old half-built novel I resurrected to have something to talk about for the event became my 2023 Nanowrimo project. I’m less belligerent about pushing to 50K nowadays, using the month instead to work the kinks out of good ideas from the archive. If I can make solid progress on a novel-length story, I’m happy.
I promised you a couple of tales, so here are my entries for the spring and autumn Reading Writers compos, both of which placed amongst the prize winners. Hope you enjoy.
The View From The Looking Glass
Travel this year was again restricted to the UK, by joint agreement. The notion of airports and flights leaves me a little unsettled. An international flight is so much hard work. When there are still so many beautiful places to enjoy in this country, it seems absurd to waste time and energy elsewhere.
A key, if accidental factor in our trips this year was that old-fashioned English sea-side vibe. A November jaunt to Whitstable offered a rain-swept day in Margate (the Turner Contemporary is worth a look, as is the Anthony Gormley figure at low tide) while a week in Lincolnshire in the summer found us on the soft, wide sands of Skegness. More on that here, if you missed it.
And of course, we had to head up to our beloved Northumberland, land of sweet air and soft light. We spent a week in Warkworth, just up the coast from the cosy little port of Amble. It was wonderful—the food was a delight, with some gloriously fresh fish on offer, while we lucked out massively with the weather. The sea, of course, was stupidly cold, but the sun came down like a benediction. Northumberland is becoming better known as a holiday destination, to which I confess some conflicted feelings. The area deserves every success and a ton of money, but it’s ours, godsdammit.
The east coast offered up some of the greatest food experiences of the year. The Fish Shack in Amble, favoured by those Hairy Bikers, was relaxed but righteous, the port-side location accentuating the freshness of every plateful. We were lucky to snag a table at the Whitstable Oyster Company (I guess going in November made things a little easier) which again was rustic but extremely serious about the food. I even had the titular bivalves as a starter, for the first time in twenty-nine years. Casino-style, of course, with bacon, garlic and breadcrumbs. You can yap about how they have to be inhaled raw all you like. I know my gag reaction, and I know how any attempt to eat uncooked seafood will end.
Away from the coast, we were ridiculously late to the table (considering it’s a twenty minute walk away and my name is up on the wall as part of their Kickstarter massive) but finally made a trip to Clay’s Kitchen and Bar, Reading’s best Indian restaurant. Argue if you like. You’ll be wrong. Every bite of our meal was a transport of delight, big flavours delivered with flair and style in a room which shows no hint of its history as a Wetherspoon’s. Look, if it’s good enough for the likes of Jay Rayner of The Observer, Grace Dent at The Guardian and Tom Parker-Bowles in The Mail, I think you’ll find something nice to eat. Have the biryani, though. You can’t go wrong with the biryani.
You notice there’s been no mention of favourite books, films, music or telly. The way I see it, if you’re a regular reader, you’ll have a good idea of the media I’ve enjoyed in 2023. If you’re not—why would you be remotely interested? I should, though, remind you of the moment I got to dance on the West End stage, a major high point.
There were dramas this year, of course. I won’t go into huge details about family matters but there were rather more scary moments where loved ones spent time in hospital than I would have wanted. These were, I guess, jabby little reminders on how time, in passing, has a knack of taking your knees out from under you. Drive-by momento moris. I mean, that really big nasty birthday is coming up on me in a couple of years. Which, realistically, puts yer boi firmly in the last third of his time with you all—assuming I’m drive-by free.
Ah, this is the time of year when you feel the wind of the passage of time, chilly and sharp and cutting through to the bone. I’m a December baby, and I think we children of winter feel that cold breeze more acutely than most. These are dark days in every sense of the word, and the fake jollity of Tesco Value Saturnalia (those Xtians really know how to screw up a proper winter festival) never really helps my mood. However, I remain hopeful of joy as the new year rolls around, and can never stay gloomy for too long. I make a lousy goth.
Towards 2024, then. Some exciting stuff happening. A major milepost, twenty years in the making. Big events, thirty years a-brewin’. TLC and I are plannin’ and wishin’ and hopin’. I’d love to take you all with us on this thrilling new phase, however virtual your presence may be.
See you next Saturday for the first chapter in Volume Two of The Swipe. For now, let’s turn our backs on the dark and our faces to the sun. Let’s see what’s out there.
December 23, 2023
The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 44
It’s coming. You can smell it, all clove and cinnamon, goose fat and sage, pine and wood smoke. You can see it in every string of lights draped across house fronts, in the reflections of trimmed trees in shop windows. You can hear it, in the way tunes are made seasonal with the addition of sleigh bell samples, in the groan when an unsuspecting victim gets Whamageddoned (my Waterloo was early this year as a rickshaw span past blaring the song while we were looking at the deccoes in the fashion district round Bond and South Molton Streets—a literal drive-by).
However the season hits you, I hope it’s gentle and easy and warm and sweet. Something a little different next week, as I issue an Annual Report, which will include a couple of short stories from me to ease you through Betwixtmas. I always bang on about being a writer. Here comes the proof.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
Re-reading, sure, but it’s hard to stress just how relevant Joe Sacco’s Palestine remains, especially now. A massively influential epic of comics journalism, his warped lens and brutally self-aware analysis (Joe is extremely hard on himself, painting a portrait of the artist as a young misanthrope) build into a picture of a land which will, as far as I can tell, never properly be at peace. Honestly, a must read.
Rob is watching…
Paramount Plus, currently offering a deal for new subscribers at half price. A little under three quid a month for all the Star Trek I can eat. Make it goddam so!
Rob is listening…
To my bespoke, years-in-the-making carefully curated Christmas playlist. I’m sure a lot of you have one, or at least a song you like to play first thing on X-Day. If you’d like to soundtrack your morning The Wickings Way, the rules are simple. Play the first two songs on the list (Bruce as an opener is non-negotiable) then shuffle as you like. Note there’s no Mariah, no Elton, No George and Andy, no Slade, no Wizzard and absolutely no Cliff. We can do better.
Rob is eating…
Monica Galetti’s Palusami, as an excuse to get shot of the huge bag of Cavolo Nero which turned up in the veg box. Good with chicken swapped out for the fish, too, although that smoky creamy flavour from the mackerel is a joy for this greedy boy.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
Magical cop coffee. The way TV cops will always roll into the office or join a stakeout with exactly the right order of caffeinated beverage in big go-cups for their co-workers. I noticed it while watching and enjoying Vigil, then Brooklyn Nine-Nine and now it jumps out at me in every cop show I come across. I guess it’s so prevalent in the set-up to a scene it simply goes un-noticed. Unless you’re a freak like me.
I am delighted to announce that, following lengthy negotiations with my parents with whom I shall be spending X-Day, no sprouts will sully our dinner table. Why let tradition stand in the way of a nice meal? There is one place for the vile cruciferous orb, and that is as the punchline to a Christmas prank. Judy Brown on Instagram takes things to a new tier of villainy.
In which five writers, including one Hollywood A-lister, write a short story on a napkin. You can, if you’re feeling lazy, click through to a plain text version, but I like the work involved in deciphering the original. The medium is, after all, the message.
Time to give the brain a little workout. I loved this piece on the Dynomight Substack regarding Pierre Bourdieu’s Theory of Taste, and how what we like defines our place on the social scale. Can’t say I’m convinced, but it’s food for thought while you’re eyeing up the Ferraro Rocher and hoping they have not been tainted with evil intent.
I get Christmas ghost stories, but the trend for cosy crime at this time of year seems to be a more recent trope. I do, that being said, enjoy the BBC run of classic Agatha Christie adaptations which appear around Betwixtmas (the latest, Murder Is Easy, looks splendid). I guess we like a bit of darkness amidst all the sparkle and glitter.
Dolly Parton on David Letterman’s chat show in a reindeer outfit. That’s it. That’s the post.
I came across Invitation by Mary Oliver this week, a poem of such stark beauty that it stopped me in my tracks. Possibly one to revisit come the New Year when our thoughts turn more easily to the concept of change but for now, please, let this one speak to you in whatever voice you choose.
This Fresh Morning In The Broken World
Following on from the recent test on the limits of religious freedom expression from the Satanic Temple in Iowa, here’s a good reason to love and support the National Railroad Museum in Green Bay, Wisconsin. Open, honest inclusion beats culture war foolishness hands down every time.
You have to admire the ambition and invention in the sadly failed collaboration between a radical theatre company and the makers of Pokémon Go but honestly, I can see why it would all fall apart. The concept is brilliant but sadly the public would just ruin it. We’re not good enough for this level of cool.
A long read from Michael Gerber at The American Bystander on death and history and tradition and the joy of a good cigar. Tobacco is not a vice I picked up but honestly, based on this, I’m tempted to give a good cigar a try.
Last up. Perhaps a bit too late to order for Christmas, but I can see the need for this item only becoming more urgent as we roll into 2024. Go ahead. Treat yourself.
We Outro, as is becoming a habit on the last post before X-Day, with a song which is a favourite but seems to have dropped right out of the standard rotation. I guess it’s a little too chilly and sharp for modern sensibilities. TLC have loved Greg Lake’s bleak, proggy contrarianism since we were kids. I urge you to give it a chance.
I wish you a hopeful Christmas. I wish you a brave new year.
See you in seven, true believers. Merry X-Day!
December 16, 2023
The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 43
X minus 9 and the countdown is obviously running. Thanks to a lucky confabulation of holiday time and shift days off I have two working days left this year. This feels slightly strange but very nice. I’d become used to being last man in on Christmas Eve, switching the site to standby, wandering the rooms as the pervasive hum of machinery dwindles to silence. It was a clear indication of a state change, that Santa was on his way. I won’t miss it this year, though. Let someone else have the honour. I have mince pies and sherry to consume. Oh, and a spot of final shopping today for my sins. If you see a lanky discombobulated bloke wandering round Reading with a lost and slightly panicky look on his face—that’ll be me, looking for a clue for presents. Your sympathy is noted and welcome.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
Harrison Scott Key’s Christmas On The Moon. Something this funny should not be this moving, or so full of implied violence. Give yourself half an hour as a bulwark against the insanity of the season and enjoy this.
Rob is watching…
The creation of the legend. You can tell these are early days. Ted is much crankier and lacks all of his homespun wisdom. But the seeds are sown here. And look, Coach Beard!
(The second one is the better of the two and worth the click-through).
Rob is listening…
You gotta love a Christmas mashup.
Rob is eating…
At Mowgli’s in Oxford, a birthday treat from TLC which hit all the right spots. You can’t go wrong with the tiffin boxes, a dealer’s choice of protein, carb and rice which only needs a puri on the side to fill you up nicely. Although the masala chip butty is also a thing of beauty. But then the Goan fish curry is moreish and delicious. And the Smoked Cardamom Old Fashioned slips down like a dream. Look, just go. It isn’t my beloved Clay’s but don’t take that as criticism. There’s a few Mowgli instances around and you will have a great time when you walk into any one of ‘em. Tell ‘em Rob sent ya.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
Doctor Hannah Fry. She’s so goofy and funny and full of energy and enthusiasm and the joy of science. And she is not against using Lego as an educational tool. She has a minifig doppelgänger, for heck’s sake. Her series The Hidden Genius Of Modern Life has just started a second series. Pick it up on the iPlayer.
Let’s start with a few writing tips and observations from author Eliot Peper, who passes on this hard-won knowledge from the only place which matters—the cruel working face of the word-mine. I’m taking a lot of these hints to heart. I can see they have not been gathered lightly.
As we hit peak X-time it’s more important than ever to exercise self-care. As an idiot who has caused himself a lot of damage over past seasons, I urge you to try to be good to yourselves.
A little more on the subject, from an oblique angle, provided by M. John Harrison. Sometimes all you need to do is listen to yourself, and you will tell you what needs to happen. Just pay attention to that nagging little voice in your head for a change.
Of course, sometimes bad habits will bubble up without you realising. I am guilty of raising my own turbooken. I just like having a little pile of reading matter by the bedside, ok? Sometimes you’re in the mood for a thriller, sometimes you want something more thought-provoking. Let’s just say the ‘Rob Is Reading’ diary entry at the top of the newsletter never tells the whole story.
As part of our continuing discussion around digital gardens and carefully-nurtured web-spaces, here’s one of Justin Jackson’s sites. A single use object of simple, calm beauty. It really spoke to me.
Cards on the table—I loved the Doctor Who anniversary special and am vibrating with excitement over the X-Day episode. Of course, there are plenty of haters out there who can’t cope with the concept of change in a show which has always been about infinite possibility. You have to wonder what show they think they’ve been watching because there’s plenty of evidence as to The Doctor’s polymorphous nature…
This amused me greatly. The illusion of tolerance and free speech in America falls apart pretty quickly under the faintest jab of applied scrutiny. Sadly, it seems like some thick-necked goon has taken matters into his meaty hands and wrecked the shrine. So much for liberty and freedom for all.
Pay attention to the next informational message and include the lessons learnt into your own self-care regime. Remember, you are the most important element in the work-life balance. Be the fulcrum, not the lever.
Last up, a long read on what Michael Stipe did next. The most unlikely rock star on the planet will always carve his own path, and I’m so happy to see him walking it with elegance and grace.
Huey Lewis Carried My Watermelon
While we have Michael in mind, let’s Outro with some R.E.M. Here is full audio from a Canadian gig in 1983 to support their third album Fables Of The Reconstruction. We find the boys in fighting-fit form. If you only know the band from Losing My Religion and after, you will find this a revelation. Before the Warner Bros. deal which made them one of the highest-paid musical acts on the planet R.E.M. were spiky, abrasive and eccentric to a fault, as this gig makes very clear.
See you in seven, true believers.
December 9, 2023
The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 42
X-Day prep is in full swing. The tree is up—TLC’s carefully curated collection of baubles and eclectic hangers give it pop and interest. We were delighted to finally snag a ‘Harold With An Arrow In His Eye’ from Reading Museum, which has pride of place alongside the yellow submarine, astronaut and beach hut. If someone can explain the significance of mushrooms to the X-Day celebrations I’d be grateful, because they seem to have been everywhere over the last couple of years. Yes, we have a fine example.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
Down And Out In Paris And London by George Orwell. I picked it up as a double-bill with A Waiter In Paris by Edward Chisholm but I’ve only now picked it up. It is sharp, tight, brutal, hilarious and moving. It’s easy to forget what an extraordinary writer Mr. Blair was, or narrow his accomplishments down to a couple of stories (you know the ones I mean). We can do better than that. Start here. Down And Out has never felt more relevant.
Rob is watching…
Bodies on Netflix, a twisty time-travel murder mystery based on the graphic novel written by the late lamented Si Spencer and illustrated by a crack rogue’s gallery of artists (one for each era in the story). It’s very well done, grabbing on and not letting go. We’re hooked.
For light relief, the animated Scott Pilgrim reboot is excellent stuff, taking the story we think we know and throwing it wide open. I have the books and loved the film. This may be the best of the lot. Here’s John Scalzi with some background.
Rob is listening…
Early days for Sophie Hall’s Perfect Pop Moments newsletter, but she’s kicked off with a couple of monsters. I’d almost forgotten about this track from Kylie’s Imperial phase (one could argue that she’s still in it and I’d struggle to disagree) and had to play it loud three times on the bounce. Pro tip—cut out before the final ‘rap’ where Robbie attempts to rhyme ‘Sean Connery’ with ‘sodomy.’ The boy’s a fool.
Rob is eating…
Along with TLC who is coming out of a bad dose of the sneezles, a sudden craving for steak, bloody as hell, has emerged. We must need the iron. To Miller & Carter!
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
Who says politics can’t be fun?
How you get semen out of a bee
Scott Hines at The Action Cookbook snags an interview with the brother of a truly divisive and misunderstood festive villain. You think you know the man in green? Think again.
It’s important to regularly interrogate and question your worldview, to ensure you don’t end up thinking in a rut. As a service to The Readership, I offer a thought experiment which will get the old brain meats twanging.
Streaming services may think they have a lock on audience attention but, in America at least, they are strictly second-rate when viewed against sports programming. The technology, facilities and services of hundreds of skilled people roll frictionlessly into place every weekday to bring the big game to millions of screens. It’s an incredible technological achievement which, of, course, we take completely for granted.
This story keeps rolling through my Reddit feed, so I had to share. The tale of one guy, a mix-up with shift patterns and a VVIP. It’s so beautifully told.
You neeeeed this in your life. Get a shortcut to the home page on your phone. So very useful.
The build in dramatic tension from Daniel Lavery as he outlines the most important part of the day makes this piece so immersive. You can almost smell the desperation.
It is the era of Gojira. With Godzilla Minus One (a film some wags are already describing as the sequel to Oppenheimer) and Godzilla X Kong: The New Empire coming up and Monarch already streaming on Apple+, the big fella has never loomed larger on our radar. Of course, a big birthday helps. For such an instantly recognisable pop culture icon, it’s remarkable how much he’s changed. Little and often over dozens of movies. Hasn’t he grown?
As we are inevitably going to be drowning in Fairytale Of New York this season, it’s worth exploring one potent and enduring image and why it’s sadly not real. You think the Feds would do something about the situation as a PR opportunity literally laid in their laps but then, as Julian Casablancas so rightly put it, New York City cops, they ain’t too smart.
The Boys Of The N.Y.P.D. Choir
If, as you should, you plan to watch The Muppets Christmas Carol this year, do yourself a favour and make sure you’ve got the full version. On Disney+ you need to do a bit of digging. Tumblr user daincrediblegg has all the juice you need.
Last up, Tom Whitwell reminds us that 2023 was, indeed, a bit much. It is unlikely to calm down next year, fair warning.
Tom Whitwell’s 52 Things for 2023
With thanks to pal of the newsletter and pal in real life Graham ‘Genuine G’ Williams for the reminder, we Outro in class and style. Cider. Mulled. Hot.
See you in seven, true believers.
December 2, 2023
The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 41
December? Holy crap, it’s December! I suppose this is what happens when you spend a month indulging in self-absorbed literary activity, head buried up one’s own fundament. So, yes, Nanowrimo is over. I did not hit my goal, but I am relaxed about it and am continuing to work. Should have a first draft finished before X-Day (nothing to do with The Incompetant Landlord who does not, contrary to whatever addled notion bumbles through his flabby brain meat, own copyright on a letter of the bloody alphabet) so yay, go me.
Meanwhile the weather has closed in like an icy vise around us and once again I wonder why we don’t just make like bears and hibernate until the spring equinox. It would certainly make a good excuse to get some writing done.
Anyway. Running a bit short again this week, but hopefully there’s enough here to keep you entertained through the weekend. Stay warm, keep safe, have a mulled cider. You know it makes sense.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
A brilliant online repository of SF writing from marginalised voices. The field has never been stronger since the community started to accept and enjoy work from people who aren’t just white and male. Go on, dive in. The water’s fine.
Rob is watching…
The fine folk at Fallow, one of the hippest restaurants in That London, are posting some great vids on the grunt work involved in back-of-house. Some great tips, tricks and tips from the chefs as well. Foody nerds, assemble. Your new obsession awaits.
Rob is listening…
To the scrape scrape of windscreens being cleared of frost by my half-awake neighbours. I’ll have to do the same soon enough but it’s so warm and cosy here. Five more minutes, mum.
Rob is eating…
At The Ivy in Marylebone, where I’m very likely to have the fish and chips, although most things on the menu look good. Some critics snark at the chain, but I have never had a bad meal at any of their restaurants. The welcome has always been warm, the service excellent. The Marylebone site is our favourite, cosy and comfy. It was also the place where I first fell in love with the Negroni so the joint and I have history.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
George Santos, the disgraced and, as of yesterday, ejected Republican representative for New York. The guy is so cartoonishly, absurdly villainous it’s frankly astonishing he ever got elected in the first place. Every day has seen a new revelation of wild behaviour, lies and cheating from a bloke who looks like a cross between Alan Carr and Chucky the killer doll. You think British politics is crazy…
Animation Obsessive has just released a free PDF collecting the concept and production art for Laika’s iconic film version of Neil Gaiman’s Coraline. It’s gorgeous and we’re lucky to have it following an accidental DMCA takedown. Go enjoy this amazing example of the sketch-to-screen process while you can.
The Unofficial Art Of Coraline
This next link, on how self-published authors can use machine learning and avoid its many pitfalls, is as much a note to self as anything. But there’s some good insights into wider uses of the technology, and it’s not going away, so, well, here we are.
Machine Learning vs. self-publishing
Charlie Jane Anders posts their top ten SF/Fantasy books of 2023. I’m not the biggest fan of end-of-the-year lists, but this one is chock-full of goodness, and a great primer for the changing face of my favourite genres.
This made me chuckle. College applications from some very well known authors. It’s an honest wonder how any of us ever got anywhere.
Robin Sloan, as ever, comes up with the goodness. in a post for Snarkmarket he neatly describes the two kinds of output a writer spits out, especially those who put a lot of it online. I guess you could describe The Swipe as my flow and Excuses And Half Truths my stock? Anyway, read the piece, you’ll get the idea.
Video games concerning food seem a little ridiculous to me, as they can’t portray the most important elements of cooking. You can’t eat the end product. However, the connections to family and history that are brought to the table are subjects which can be movingly and strikingly portrayed. I’m no convert but can see how games like the ones described by Lewis Gordon in the NYT can have an impact.
Talking about connections, here’s that man Gaiman again, discussing the death of social media and the rediscovery of a gentler, wider web. You know how much I agree with the fella here. I’ve been tending this garden tirelessly for years.
There’s no other way to Outro this week. I guess we’ll all be hearing even more Fairytale Of New York this season, so I choose to up the pace and jump about in celebration of a life well lived. Did I ever tell you about the time my shoe ended up on stage at a Pogues gig?
So long, Shane.
See you in seven, true believers.
November 25, 2023
The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 40
We’re coming up on the last week of Nanowrimo. Normally I’d be scrambling to hit wordcount, every day more of an effort. This year, I’m much more relaxed about the whole thing. I’m not even sure I’ll hit my self-imposed goal. What that means is I’ll probably continue writing into December, which is unusual for me. Rather than hitting the 50K and stopping, with the intention of taking a break into Christmas and picking up in the New Year, I’ll just gently carry on, letting the soft tide of the story carry me on. It seems like a more sensible, more sustainable way of completing a first draft, and one that won’t stress me the hell out.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
For my sins, Devil May Care by Sebastian Faulks, an offshoot of the Bondiverse set in the mid-sixties. The villain, a monkey-handed, British-hating maniac called Julius Gorner, plans to flood the country with drugs and force a nuclear exchange. The book hits all the right plot points, but the inherent cruelty and misogyny at the heart of the franchise are sadly also in place. I honestly believe James Bond is a fictional figure whose time has passed. File him with Biggles and Bulldog Drummond and let’s move on, please.
Rob is watching…
I love the idea of fictional products which can tell a story. I do have a feeling this stuff has been around for quite a long time, though.
Rob is listening…
Context first. Then listen. This is so beautiful.
Rob is eating…
Theo Randall’s aubergine parm has become a favourite in these parts.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
The greatest corkscrew ever.
I guess I’m still thinking on the idea of The Digital Garden, and a life outside the walls of social media. Taking an internet walk is something I do quite often, gathering up nice things to display for you, beloved Readership.
I recently bought a synthesiser, Behringer’s tiny, dirt-cheap JT-4000, as a way to teach myself the basis of waveform synthesis. It’s a lot of fun, and enables me to quickly and easily generate some really horrible noises. Of course, if I had the money and space, I’d be looking hard at some of the bespoke devices the folks at Love Hultén have to offer…
Lockdown seems to have done a number on my cash-carrying habit. I’ve slimmed my wallet down to a card-holder with a magnetic clip for the odd twenty, which only really ever gets used if I’m taking a cab (Reading taxis remain mostly, belligerently, cash-only). However, it’s still wise to have a little bit on you, particularly coins. A bit of shrapnel in hand can be useful.
Rebellion Publishing in Oxford is doing righteous work in protecting and sharing the long history of British comics. With their purchase of the IPC Fleetwood archive, they now have stewardship of 130 years of funny books—an essential record of our social history which can tell us a lot about the way we used to live through an era when cheap, disposable kid’s papers sold in the millions every week.
If you need reaction photos for your WhatsApp chats, the winners of the Comedy Wildlife Photo competition have you sorted. Honestly, you only really need the owls.
The noise made about how machine learning (I now refuse to use the marketing term) will change our lives is mostly just that. The results I’ve seen are tat, ways for scammers, plagiarists and exploitative bosses to make it easier than ever to create mediocre product. However, if ChatGPT allows me to create code out of simple descriptions, I could be interested in trying it out.
The End And Beginning Of Coding
A little Tumblr thread which quietly and gently blew my mind. I had to share this one. Hope your mind gets blown too.
Finally. We are avid viewers of Richard Osman’s House Of Games, as a little quizzing always helps ease us into the evening. A recent question made the point that Bruce Springsteen had some influence in the collapse of the Berlin Wall. This was news to me, so I did a quick search and… well, it’s one hell of a story, proving a truth I have known for a long time—you don’t mess with The Boss.
Can’t Start A Fire Without A Spark
Oh, the delight when this little slice of heaven showed up on Rob’s Infinite Feed this week. A song that starts big out of the gate and just gets wilder and louder and brighter. One of those pure expressions of joy and defiance, a killer performance from 1995 when Later With Jools was worth watching, and the perfect kickstart to the weekend. I feel well enough to—well, get out of bed and into the shower now, at least.
See you in seven, true believers.
November 18, 2023
The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 39
Hello from the just-past-mid point of Nanowrimo, where yer boi is having to manage his expectations. This year’s work has evolved from word-count to project based, to protect my fragile sense of control. The aim is to complete an old story, and I’m happy as long as I get a bit of time in front of the keyboard every day. The massively social week just gone was terrible for creativity, but enormously good for the soul. A big plus point—I’m actively enjoying the process this year. Onwards, with a smile on my face.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
Or rather re-reading Warren Ellis, John Cassandra’s and Laura Martin’s Planetary. A radical reimagining of pulp fiction and comic traditions, it’s a romp across Marvel and DC traditions, lightly disguised. A few clever thoughts on the nature of the medium, aspects of fiction and some mind-bending ruminations on time travel. It’s a lot of fun, and luckily embraces the inherent ridiculousness at the heart of my beloved scientifiction. When it comes to Ellis and his #MeToo moment, he seems to be one of the few who is on record as working through his transgressions in mediated sessions with some of the women he so badly let down. In this case I’m happy to separate the art from the artist but I completely understand why people are still yicked out by the guy.
Rob is watching…
Talking of reinterpretations…
Rob is listening…
To the sound of the wind in the trees. Means I’ll have to go and sweep some leaves later, godammit.
Rob is eating…
The rabbit at Pierre Victoire in Oxford. I haven’t been in a while and I’m happy to report the joint was just as cosy, friendly and welcoming as I remember. Rammed out on a Wednesday night as well, which speaks to the fact it hits the brief so well. The food is full-on French, bulging with cream, butter and salt and therefore utterly delish. That lapin, boned, rolled around a herb farci and wrapped in bacon was gloriously excessive. I couldn’t eat like that every day, but oh it was good.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
BlueSky. Just got an invite and having a gay old time in there. It really is the closest thing I’ve seen to old-school Twitter. Mastodon’s still cool, though.
@conojito.bluesky.social if you want to come and say hi.
Richard Godwin from The Spirits comes up with an idea which conflicts me. On the one hand, it is against nature and should clearly be exiled to a slow, quiet death in the forest. On the other hand, curiosity is going to get the better of me. I recommend reading the whole post, which conflates my favourite Campari-based beverage and the process of carcinification extremely elegantly.
Mike Achim asks a simple question—if there was a recall button for something in your past you’ve done or said, what would it be for? His example will curl your toes, but the replies are GOLD.
The concept of The Digital Garden is part of a slow trend away from social media presence, towards a more thoughtful, curated and personal approach. I’m not convinced about the argument that blogs are not part of the garden aesthetic. I’ve been doing this for a real long time and it’s exactly the vibe I’m going for, reflecting current, ongoing and future interests in a simple-to-read and accessible platform. Lots of good ideas contained within, though.
Charlie Stross reveals the uncomfortable truth about science fiction, and how the rich and powerful people using common SF tropes as a design for life really do have the wrong end of the stick.
The saddest thing about Bezos, Musk and Branson’s obsession with space and humanity’s glorious future among the stars? When we get past the atmospheric barrier, things get very unfriendly in all sorts of squishy biological ways…
A song that sounds dreadfully familiar but which no-one can quite place. Sounds like an alien invasion taking place through the medium of music to me. Whatever you do, hit mute before they infect your brains.
Alexandra Petri at The Washington Post reports on the irritating tendency of people to not do as they’re told, even though it’s in the best interest of the hidden powers which rule the world. Honestly, the sheer ingratitude.
Bouncing back momentarily to Digital Gardens. The great thing is when you get to meet and enjoy the company of the gardener. My favourite online haunts are run by people who I like to spend a bit of time with every week. Their wit warmth and personality shine through with every edition. I like to hope this space has a little of that feeling. Anyway. Anne Friedman, featured regularly in The Swipe, has some news.
Last up, a long read from Kate Dwyer in Esquire on what it takes to be a writer in the 21st century. Yes, this is very pertinent to my interests, but still worth looking at as an overview on the work involved in being creative in public these days.
Outroism in the company of The Smile, Thom Yorke and Johnny Greenwood’s side-project. The promo, directed by Paul Thomas Anderson (Greenwood has been his soundtrack guy for years, hence the collab) is beautiful, and I’m happy to flag a modicum of involvement as part of The Day Job. There’s a lot of effects here which were done in camera, involving multiple exposures of the same bit of film through the camera. That amazing final tracking shot? Thirteen passes. Really pleasing to see the old ways still have a part to play.
See you in seven, true believers.
November 11, 2023
The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 38
Hello from Whitstable, where TLC and I have retreated for a long weekend and a bit of a reset. A day trip to Margate (the Essex kid in me still pronounces it ‘Margit’ like Chas And Dave) to convene with some art and that incredible light seems like a good idea. Also seafood. Lots and lots of seafood.
Of course, the short break lands bang in the middle of Nanowrimo, which means, I suspect, some early mornings to crank out the necessary wordage. Next week I seem to have organised social events over four out of the available five days. No, I do not believe in making life easy for myself. Hopefully the sea air will spark up some creativity because I’m going to need every last scrap.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
Did you not see the intro?
Rob is watching…
I’m always ready to learn some of the secret hints and tricks behind cranking out art at production line level. Right now, I’ll take all the help I can get.
Rob is listening…
to the sound of deadlines whirring past.
Rob is eating…
at The Whitstable Oyster House. Can you blame me?
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
Villains Falling To Their Deaths
I’m delighted to see John Constantine, rake-hell and magic’s greatest libertine, is making a return both to comics and potentially the big screen. He’s a fascinating character, the very definition of anti-hero. Here’s an overview written in 2014 which gives you the bones and some of the juice behind the man in the mac.
My favourite letter of the alphabet is having a millennial moment. Is this at all related to the vocal fry?
The Whoniverse has launched, and BBC iPlayer has finally become a clearing house for all the adventures in time and space you could possibly hope for (excluding, embarrassingly, the first story, subject to an ongoing copyright scrummage—and of course the 90-odd episodes which were wiped). Where should the newbie start? Probably not with Ed Jefferson’s Randomiser which will spit out any one of the hundreds of episodes available. When I had a go I got part 4 of Mawdryn Undead, which featured alien vampires and two Brigadiers. Fun!
Social media is becoming harder to navigate, as Xwitter’s implosion has opened up the field to a load of different new networks. There’s a big push towards the Instagram-adjacent Threads. But I increasingly find I’m drawn to the hopeful future of Mastodon, which is a lot easier to join and use than some folks would have you believe.
Some extremely serious and highly relatable tips to boost your wordcount this November. Honestly, I wonder why I didn’t try them sooner. Who needs a life when you can have writing?
I knew nothing about Ramona Quimby before starting this excellent overview on LitHub about her. She seems like a fine role model for girls everywhere. We need more DGAF heroines.
There’s Something About Ramona
There is an important distinction to be made between cheese on toast, a cheese toastie and a grilled cheese sandwich. For me, a toastie comes out of a Breville, one of those funny scalloped hinged hot plates. Cheese on toast is an emergency comfort blanket, doubly so if you have to break out a tin of beans to go on top. A grilled cheese is a snack I only make when I’m feeling a bit fancy. And never when I’m alone. It’s a love thang, you feel me?
Bruce Springsteen wielding that guitar on the cover of Born to Run makes for truly timeless rock and roll iconography. The sound, the look, the attitude. My first guitar was a Telecaster copy , and I still can’t tell you why I got rid of it.
Last up. Let’s have a little quiz. If you can do better than me—well, you won’t have to try too hard because I was lousy at it.
I’m going to Outro with Slift, a killer power trio from Lausanne, France. They make a most agreeable racket, and I find the twin cream SG look they’re rocking to be highly stylish. I hope you agree.
See you in seven, true believers.
November 4, 2023
The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 37
Nanowrimo is go! Authors across the globe watched Halloween slip past in a pumpkin-spice scented fog and readied themselves for the task ahead. Come November 1st, we planted ourselves in front of the keyboard, took a deep breath and howled out the traditional Nanowrimo refrain—‘why am I doing this to myself again?’
Why indeed? Well, as the old saw states, a writer writes. If you don’t have words on a page, you don’t have jack. It’s AICKO time (Arse In Chair, Keyboard Out). However painful and difficult the effort will prove to be, how tough it is to slot writing space into your packed schedule, the result is something you can work on, refine and most importantly show people. A story is one thing spoken out loud. Don’t get me wrong, there’s value in that. But it can transform once it becomes the written word. It gains an extra kind of power.
For me, Nanowrimo is a month filled with surprises. The story takes turns you didn’t see coming. The characters do things you didn’t expect or plan for. Like falling in love, or standing firm instead of running away, or dying at the most inconvenient time for the plot. I live for moments like that, when the story begins to tell itself and you’re just along for the ride.
Apologies in advance for the poor state of the newsletter over the next few weeks, as I plow away in the word-mines, but I’ll try to keep a presence here as usual. Worst case scenario, you might get an extract of the work in progress.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Nanowrimo Swipe.
Rob is reading…
What, you think I have time to read here?
Rob is watching…
I find this sort of thing very soothing, and wish I had the skill and patience of the unseen gent who coaxes this old soldier back to life. I wish he’d kept the original wood finish, though. Or at least the little sticker on the scratch plate. It feels a little like he’s erasing the guitar’s history in favour of new shininess. Still a great way to decompress if you need it.
Rob is listening…
They don’t really fit behind that desk, do they?Rob is eating…
Donna Hay’s Roast Garlic Chicken on a leek and potato gratin. Rich and soothing all at once, with the added benefit of leftovers and a carcass for stock. It’s a meal that just keeps on giving.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
Words on the page, baby. Nothing but words on the page.
Let’s start with a piece which just missed my radar for last week’s spooky special. It’s a great bit of speculative fiction—a lil bit skiffy, a lil bit horror, a whole lotta fun. Beware the moon!
Ah, writers. We are such delicate flowers, so needy, so potentially explosive. This one goes out to those poor brave souls who have to put up with our nonsense all day every day. TLC, I don’t deserve you.
Endless supplies of whisky and praise
There are 15 years worth of blog posts on Excuses And Half Truths. Even excluding the times when it became a clearing house for my podcasting adventures, that’s a lot of writing. I’m very proud of the body of work I’ve generated. However, its existence remains fragile, at the whims of service providers and web hosts. I have spent more time on initiatives like The Swipe than I have on more ostensibly mainstream writing projects—novels, short stories and so on. Will my online writing ever get any form of recognition? Probably not…
On a similar subject, the good folk at Vittles are bringing out great writing weekly which often transcend the humble bounds of food writing to provide far richer experiences. Take Orphée You’s history of three generations of French home cooking, which takes the staple duck a la orange as a starting point for an exploration into wide-ranging social and economic trends. There’s still a recipe at the end if you need it, though.
Here’s a mind-blowing Threads thread from Mike Achim on an extraordinary cataclysmic pair of geological events which changed the face of Europe. You think we have extreme weather now? Buckle up, buttercup.
If my Ninth Art posts don’t interest you then move along, pilgrim, cos this one is high level geeky. A long piece from the letterer’s letterer Tod Klein on the art, technique and history of this vital component of the comic page. As you might imagine, I wallowed in this like a pig in mud, but YMMV.
Tod Klein’s Pen Lettering For Comics
The much-ballyhooed ‘last Beatles song’ is, let’s be frank, a bit of a disappointment. A plodding ballad gussied up from a fragmentary John Lennon demo which sort of meanders around a bit without ever developing. The story of how it came to us is the most interesting bit.
A sweet story in Xwitter form from Gail Simone. The guy she talks about could be all sorts of problematic but you do somehow end up liking him. God, I hope he isn’t a serial killer.
Ok, that’s it! Thanks in advance for your patience over the next few weeks while I moan and whinge about actually doing the thing I should be doing as a matter of course. A writer writes, right? If you’re Nanoing, I hope it all goes smoothly for you. I’m here if you need to vent.
Let’s keep the vibe positive with something motivational from The Redskins. Keep on keepin’ on, yawl.
See you in seven, true believers.
October 28, 2023
The Swipe Volume 1 Spooky Season Special
It’s the most wonderful week of the year! Tuesday marks the day when ghosts and ghouls and goblins and ghastlies come out to play. Not down our street so much, but then we do have an honest-to-goodness cemetery at one end. It may be a little too real for the tinies in bedsheets. Even more terrifying, November 1st marks the starting gun for 2023’s Nanowrimo! As ever I will be banging out the word count, although this year’s attempt aims to finish off a previous project than starting something fresh. I’d love to hear from you if you’re up for the challenge. This chapter of the newsletter is dedicated to the wild-eyed rebels who choose November to let their inner novelist out. I salute you, and welcome you as a friend and fellow traveller.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
Alastair Bonnett’s Off The Map. A fascinating treatise on the corners of the world which Google Maps has not been able to reach. A celebration of the mysteries which still surround us and of topophilia, the love of place. It’s a fast read, but deep and surprisingly affecting.
Rob is watching…
I suddenly feel very old.Rob is listening…
This is such a gorgeous head rush of a tune. Once, I would have sneered at the very idea of anyone daring to cover The Boss. I have mellowed over time. Nowadays, Bruce’s oeuvre is pretty much part of The Great American Songbook, and different interpretations bring a new relevance to old, familiar songs. Especially when a second track slips into the mix so neatly.
Rob is eating…
Friday night pizza. Store-bought veggie special is fine (Morrison’s made-fresh is always good) with posh tuna and an extra sprinkle of mozzarella on top. There never quite seems to be enough cheese. Cook it for slightly less time than the packet instructions but a bit hotter. If your oven has a pizza setting with heat coming from below, use it. The result will be worth that tiny extra speck of effort. I know, I should make my own base but it’s Friday night and Taskmaster awaits. No need to overthink it.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
Backstreet Boys. Don’t you dare judge me. Like the top comment on Everybody makes plain – we all listen to them in secret.
Right, let’s begin with a Spooky Season primer. Lincoln Michel guides us through the realms of the uncanny, including a couple of excellent stories along the way. Snuggle in, take notes, let’s get creepy.
Joel Stein has been, along with many of his fellow Writers Guild members, on strike. I’m sure it’s been tough on him, but that’s not how he’s selling it. Sidebar: I offer solidarity to SAG-AFTRA in their continuing struggle, even as it hits very close to my own pay packet, and wish them luck in the latest round of negotiations. Stand strong, folks. You’ve got this.
After last week’s visit to AC’s Bar And Grill, let’s check out a bar you can actually visit. As more pubs close in the UK weekly, it’s heartening to read a success story of a place run with passion, care and a sense of humour. More power to their elbows!
Back to the scary stuff, with a rundown of the films which offer more than just chills and jump scares. Thrills of a different variety are, to my mind, a key component of the whole horror experience. When Lucy and Mina are lured into the embrace of that Eastern European count, they do so out of a certain kind of twisted desire.
Walk in the clogs of a chef and you’ll be pacing the hard yards. I devoured this account of Hank Shaw’s time in the kitchen of a hunting lodge. You have to admire the craft and graft he shows but boy howdy, I don’t envy him the hours, the work or the lack of thanks.
Horror and Disney don’t really go together, even if you include franchises like The Haunted Mansion and Hocus Pocus. It’s all just a bit too safe, really. So I was highly amused by the tale of an animated short which went a little too close to the bone for the Mouse House’s liking.
I don’t know if the following is fiction or not. It reads like a wild mix of The Amityville Horror, Poltergeist and even The Blair Witch Project. The account of a house with a dark history and a host of ghosts is deeply eerie, profoundly creepy and the perfect long read for this weekend. This one honestly haunted me.
These. Are. ADORABLE.
Lastly, Scott Hines at The Action Cookbook (my new favourite newsletter) offers up a few tips for those of you who want to switch up your doorstep game this Tuesday. You can do better than Haribo grab-bags!
There’s More To Trick Or Treat Than Candy
I’m running a little short this week—I have pumpkins to eviscerate and monsters to mash. Plus Nanowrimo prep is heavy on my brow. I hope to be back to full power next week. Let’s Outro with something appropriate from Halloween dress-up specialists Broken Peach. I am very much on board with the creepy cheerleader vibes, and they serve up this classic blast of Blondie with the right level of sass and verve.
They’ll getcha. THEY’LL GETCHA.See you in seven, ya groovy spooks.
