Confessions of a Knucklehead

Well, it's been about a month since my last confession, so I thought I'd drop in again and exercise the old writing muscles. "Use it or lose it!" they say, but at the moment I'm actually trying to lose the repetitive strain injury of my right wrist. I still remember the time when I first got this RSI - ironically editing a short film called "Last Hand" (now deleted and lost forever) using nothing but the track pad on my mac when I was living in Japan around 2006. That's 12 years. So yesterday I got a wrist support tube and some Deep Heat to see if that'll help.

Knucklehead Noir

I've just submitted a longish short story of mine (that I wrote in Japan around 2009) called 'Thick as Thieves' to an anthology published by Coffin Hop, on a friend's advice, as the brief is :

Tales of dimwitted criminals and unlucky twits on the wrong side of the law. Nimrods, numbskulls and rejects. Bumbling sidekicks and idiots-gone-wrong. 

I wrote the story just for my own amusement, and enjoyed having it workshopped at West Lothian Writers a few months ago where I got and implemented some good advice, so we'll see if it bears fruit.

Funny how I found myself slightly reticent on submitting a short story again after all these years, even though due to luck the brief happens to be quite appropriate to the story, but this alone of course does not necessarily guarantee success. They say before submitting stories you should be familiar with the publication to know what kind of content and style they're used to, but I have no choice as the story is already written and the deadline is the end of the month, so here I go.

But it again seemed to reinforce the sensation that I'm not afraid of failure - I'm more afraid of success. I'm sure fear of success is not an uncommon stumbling block. Failure is easy. Anyone can do it with very little effort on their part. It's something I have lots of experience with and I'm quite comfortable staying in the shadows being an undiscovered underachiever with limitless untapped potential, than someone who can actually succeed at something and then set themselves up for a public fall.

Did you know goldfish were actually artificially bred from black fish, and are always psychologically uncomfortable standing out so much all the time? The things you learn teaching English as a foreign language.

Time to Face up to Facebook

On 25th May FB gave me (and most other people) an ultimatum: Read and accept their new terms and conditions, or be deleted forever. And you know, the second choice is actually quite tempting. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure there are lots of good things about Facebook, for example for people who are separated, isolated or incarcerated. I am interested in the lives of my friends and family, but there's something about the social media site that leaves me with an itch I just can't scratch. You see, I prefer the old fashioned human - human interaction, where you get to see the person's face, hear their voice, enjoy their smile, things like that. It's a much more intimate one-to-one connection, rather than the cheap one-to-many proclamation of the Facebook wall, which is better suited for a town crier ringing a bell shouting, "Hear ye, hear ye, three o'clock and all's well!", or announcements such as "Hey, we're getting married," or "Sadly someone has passed away," or "Happily such and such was born weighing 3 pounds and whatever," which was traditionally the job of newspapers. But it's too easy, and for someone like me who regrets almost every second thing I ever say or do, that's not necessarily a good thing. 

So at the moment I'm in Facebook limbo. I have neither been deleted nor agreed to the new terms and conditions. 

I am become the Unsociable.

One thing I have noticed though, is that my relationships with people I meet face to face now seem to be better - less overshadowed by stupid things I may have typed, misunderstood jokes, or posts I may or may not have reacted to. 

Dropping Eaves

I was sitting in a cafe the other day and happened to overhear a couple of job interviews taking place. I was trying not to listen but short of stuffing cotton wool in my ears and dipping my head in a basin of jelly there wasn't much else I could do. 

As each interview went on, I found myself reacting (inwardly) to things they were saying, such as, "Ooh dear, that doesn't sound good. I wouldn't employ them if I were you," or "Why are you telling them proudly that you will supply their uniform, branding their souls with your logo forever as if that's such a great gift?" 

But in the end both got hired for the positions - people I wouldn't have employed for an employer I wouldn't have wanted to work for - and everybody was satisfied. 

And they will probably go on to earn a decent wage, build up a pension, get annual holidays, enjoy job security, get off benefits and pay taxes. So well done all.

None of my business really.

Conformity 

The other day I put up a shelf (using a spirit level) in my shed (which is squint), and looking at it now I finally understand about the rules of conformity and non-conformity. Even if you are RIGHT, you still look WRONG.