Sundays

 The digital age has changed the face of Sundays. I don't mean the ging to church part, though that might also be true, I mean the lying in bed with the Sunday papers part. I remember the fun of waking up, one of you putting on the coffee while the other goes for the papers. The return to bed with the breakfast tray laden with coffee, toast and maybe a pastry or two that somehow accompanied the papers home.

Lying half under the covers, the tray between us, the papers deconstructed into their constituent parts. Me reading the headlines, her the arts. Reading aloud to each other between mouthfuls of toast. Feeling the weight of the paper on your feet, seeing the vast expanse of newsprint and the color supplemets spread before you. Both reaching for the same section, cuddling up and reading it together.

Today, we wake up, flick on our tablets and read the headlines before we even think of getting out of bed. We start to read a story and the other says 'yes, I'm reading that'. Sharing is lost. Sunday is just a day we don't go to work. The world at our finger tips is ironically a world we now experience in isolation.

This morning, I'm goimg to change that. True I've woken up to an empty bed (except that I'm i it, obviously). My girl has taken the dogs out. Right after I finish writing this I'm off to the store to get the papers. And maybe a pastry or two.

There are some things we have to salvage from the non-digital days, Lazy Sunday mornings with a sea of newsprint, is a good place to start.

Time Out

Right now, I'm having a time out. Granted, its only because the person I'm time outing from is on holiday, but that's missing the point. Sometimes a relationship can be so good that you miss the little warning signs. Spending time with someone who makes you happy feels good and you want to spend more and more time with them. Before you know it, there's not a day goes by that you haven't met, talked or emailed each other.

Then you realize that this is more than just being friends. And that's when you need the time out.

That's when reality hits.

That's when you have to take a breath. Make a choice, and know that whatever you choose, nothing will be the same from this point forward.

You

Do you know how much I love you?

do you even care that I'm losing sleep

because of you. 

do you know that I dream of you

too much thinking about you.

if there are things I'm not 

supposed to do, I guess obsessing

about you would be one of those.

do you know that I have fallen

out of love with my wife 

because of you. 

do you know that I dream of you

too many thoughts of you.

if there were just two things my 

brain was allowed to think, thinking

about you would be one of those.

Jamie Lloyd

Sept 2014

Fast Writing

So my writing buddies and I thought it would be a good idea to try fast writing. You know, you think of a topic for 3 minutes, outline it for another 3 and then blast as much down on the page as you can in the remaining 10 minutes. We spent the first 2 minutes making coffee; the next 7 looking for the packet of biscuits David was certain he'd brought; and the remaining 6 minutes arguing about who forgot to switch the coffee machine on at the socket and where the hell were the mugs?

Duly fuelled, we decided that our approach needed a little work.

It's amazing how much procrastination actually occurs when you put a bunch of writers in the same room. We improved our coffee making skills though - no longer will they laugh when I degas the coffee before switching on the machine!

Ad yes, we found the biscuits. On top of the refrigerator, because that's where you leave stuff, right?

And the fast writing? We ran out of time.....

Hmm, so..

kinda wrote myself into a corner and now trying to figure a way out. My short story is currently languishing in the "to sort" pile. This pile is probably the largest of all, which is saying something. The "this might make a good story" pile is a close second. Although when I think about it the "here's one I started earlier" pile, probably dwarfs these two by some considerable measure.

The fact is I love to write and the number of stories that line up in my brain, fighting for their right to be told, has the ability to turn me insane. The truth is although I love to write, I have to write.

Soooooooo.....

Back to the notebooks. One more rewrite, one more time.

There's this girl. This woman. Her name is Sally. And I think I'm falling in love with her.

Another Year

Hard to believe that we are more than halfway through another year. This year has been a tough one, and I've not felt like writing. Luckily, my partner and I have emerged from the other side of all the health scares stronger and more determined than ever. When you think the time you have together may be slipping away, it makes you refocus.

Over the last 8 months I've managed to put on a lot of extra pounds - mostly around my middle. So, part of my refocus is now on shedding the excess baggage and enjoying life to the full. I've struggled with my weight over the years since I gave up team sports. While we hillwalked and biked, it kept in check but each year I'd add a kilo or so to my tally. When our old dog got that he couldn't walk the hills any more, we slowed down too, from 1 hill a month to 2 or 3 a year. This last year with the puppy, there has been a sum total of zero hills. The sum total of all of this - I weigh way more kilos than I should. 82.6Kg to be precise - that's 182lbs, about 40lbs heavier than I should be (about 18 kilos).

I've done the diets, starved myself of this and that, exercised frantically, all to no avail. Oh sure, I'd lose a kilo or two and be very proud of myself. Then I'd lose heart and before you know it I've put the two kilos back on and some. So this time, this time there's no diet. This time, I'm just going to meditate and think myself thin. I know what you're thinking. No way.

Well, I've been thinking myself thin for just over a week and those 82.6Kg are 1.2kg less than when I started. I know, not much, but already my other half is commenting on my face being thinner and my love handles have shrunk - noticeably so. I have more energy and I'm doing stuff around the house instead of sitting watching TV. At night I'm visualizing myself thinner, fitter and much more energetic. I'm drinking more water and eating nuts and seeds instead of potato chips. I'm having almonds instead of peanuts, fruit instead of cakes and cookies. I have a picture inside my head of the me I want to be.

I talked to a few people about visualization. They told me it was difficult to begin with but I'm not finding that to be the case. Maybe being a writer is an advantage as I regularly visualize the story I'm trying to tell, and the characters, to get a feel for what they look like, think or do. Visualizing myself really wasn't a big jump.

Will it work long term? Who knows, but I've just got myself a copy of Jon Gabriel's book and I'm going to listen to his visualization tonite. I'm going to keep doing this at least until Christmas, that's a fair shot.

And, big statement!, I'm going to update this blog regularly to let you know how I'm going. Just you watch....

Oh, yeah, the puppy. Murph would definitely approve of the highly energetic and delightfully madcap Oscar. Black lab through and through - he got into the food bin last night, luckily its tall and so he couldn't really reach. We've started the training walks and hopefully this September we'll do a small hill walk with him (all the more reason to lose those extra pounds!). He loves chasing balls down the beach, something poor old Murph never really got the hang of. This time, I'm glad we chose a puppy who gets to have a great life from the very start. Oscar doesn't wonder if he's loved, he takes it for-granted!

2 months on

So, two months since the mighty Murph shrugged off his mortal coil and headed towards that great puppy playground in the sky. The wife and I have been missing his dogness. There's just this big black lab hole in our lives, and our home. It's time to bite the bullet and find a new doggy maestro to share our life with.

Murph was a rescue dog. Three years old when we got him, it took him a long time to truly trust that we weren't sending him back. Though once he got the hang of this lovin' stuff he was, what one might term, demanding. We loved him for it. The thump of his very hard head into your knees was the sign for "I need an ear scratch"; lying in front of the couch on his back said "come on, time to play, scratch my tummy"; and grabbing his bowl in his mouth and knocking it on the floor was the sign for "chocolate please, the bowl's empty".

We regretted not having those first three years of his life, and saddened that he took another 3 to truly be himself. We want every second of the next dog's life. Its screwups will be ours, and hopefully they'll be the fun wacky kind. Not the sort that made Murph hit the deck first time I picked up a stick to throw for him. I swear, if I had ever met his previous owners, I would have known what to do with that stick.

So we're puppy hunting. We're close too. Meeting breeders who hopefully will like us and say "yes, of course you can have one of our puppies". We've passed the first stage, the questionnaire and a photo of your garden. We probably sent too many. But now we're off to meet our preferred breeder. So exciting.

I'm sure Murph would approve.

Ramblings from the desktop

It's been a busy month, what with holidays, the parents, the puppy hunt, writing and the day job. I'm not quite sure how we fitted it all in.  We had a great time hill climbing in Perthshire, the views from Rannoch Moor are stunning. Looking out across the desolation of the moor to mountain range after mountain range is pretty awesome. The Grey Corries were covered with snow, Ben Nevis even deigned to keep out of the clouds for just long enough to be identified.

Yesterday, the parents returned home and we had the house to ourselves again. It was quiet, so we switched the telly on to drown out the silence. Puppies have been born and we'll be heading off soon to see more than we can afford! Excitement is high but, inevitably, it's tinged with an element of sadness as there's no Murph to share it all with.

I'm beginning to get hooked on Twitter (@Jamie_AC). There are some fantastic people sharing elements of themselves with the world in general. I've been following a few well-known faces and the way in which they interact with those of us who muscle in on their conversations, is pretty impressive. Alison Moyet, Clare Balding, Val McDermid and Heather Peace have all been added to my "respect due" list. And Denise Warner is just plain funny.

What's really struck me though, on Twitter in general, is the debate on "same-sex marriage". (Why, BTW, do we have to call it "same-sex"? I just ask because we don't talk about "different-sex" marriage, or did I miss that post.) Now I'm all for extension of marriage beyond the, ahem, "different-sex" variety. Where I have a problem, is when churches try to claim marriage as their own private party. Personally, I'm not the religious go-to-church type and quite frankly I don't care if churches don't want to marry me to my sweetheart. But, I pay my taxes just like everybody else. Okay, so not everybody else,  I'm not rich enough to avoid paying taxes... Back to my point, and yes I do have one. Civil marriage shouldn't be subject to religious bias. Civil marriage is a commitment that brings with it certain rights and privileges as part of our [civil] society. As such it should not be restricted to one select group, but should be for those couples, irrespective of gender combinations, who are over the legal age to choose to commit themselves to their partner. My view of marriage is that it's up to churches and their congregations to decide on the rules for religious marriages; and up to the state to decide on the rule for civil marriages. The state has to treat all of its citizens in an equal and fair way, and yes, that means making choices that help minority groups. I have a view too on just how minority gay/lesbian/bisexual actually isn't, but I'll leave that for another day!

So back to the marriage thing. If a church bans (ok I'll use it) same-sex marriages from its roster, then it should not be allowed to carry out the civil part of the ceremony. If they allow same-sex marriages then they can do the whole shebang. My other view, is also simple. If the state does not permit same sex marriages then it should give up on the whole civil marriage thing; introduce civil partnership for all and leave the marriage stuff to the churches (with the same proviso on the civil element). Sorted.

Now, about world peace.....

It Can't Be May Already!

Hard to believe, I know. Seems like only yesterday it was Christmas. It's been a busy and sad few months for the Lloyd household. Just before easter our wonderful black lab Murph passed away. We didn't feel much like eating chocolate.

The last couple of weeks, we've been tidying out the loft. Boxes of photos have been assembled and either scanned or thrown into the discard pile. It's been quite a journey. My darling wife has done the most of it, me being the type who doesn't easily sit in one place for too long and bores easily. I love flicking through the photos, seeing places we should really visit again, and realising just how full and energetic our life has been. And how slim and young we were back then.

With all this reminiscing we've decided to pick up the pace again. We're off hill climbing later this month, used to do lots of that, crampons an' all. No Murph to accompany us, but hey it can't always be perfect. When we come back, the puppy hunt will begin in earnest. We've identified a number of breeders, at least one of whom ought to like us. If they pick us, then we can pick a puppy.

My wife has pretty much recovered her health (just as well considering the hill climbing part). I guess we're ready now for the next chapter in our lives together. Looking back through the photographic years, I see friends who were together and are no longer. New friends who have joined us, old friends who no longer inhabit this earth. Three friends who didn't make it to their 40th birthdays.

I intend celebrating my next birthday (just over a week's time) on top of a munro, surrounded by my friends. Well, those who make it up the hill at any rate, I have been told one or two will be waiting in the nearest pub. Time with friends and family is the best present around. And time well spent to boot.

So here's to Murph, thanks for all the years; to all my friends, thanks for being there guys; and to my wife, who needs no more words from me.

mint tea and thoughtful repose

Writing was a bit of a chore for me last year. My wife was seriously ill and I wanted to spend my time with her. Thankfully, towards the end of the year she began to turn whatever corners it was she needed to turn. I would say she's 80% better, and improving day by day.

During the last 12 months, we've changed a lot in our lives. She tires easily so we don't go out as much as we used to. It's sad to see some old friends seem to think that this means we don't need friends any more. Eye opening also to see the newer of our friends making sure we know they are still there for us, calling in for a coffee or just texting to say hi.

As for that coffee, I don't drink so much these days. Moroccan mint tea is more my tipple. Add some sugar, drink from a small glass and its sweet pungent aroma plays with the nostrils, transporting the brain to many an imagined world.

The novel I had begun at the start of the year, first words arriving as I sat in the emergency room, has been through many twists and turns. The bad guy turns out to be a good guy. A character I thought would die in the opening chapter turns out to be a crucial holder of knowledge and therefore cannot die. He holds the key on which the story turns. I now know what the title means, I know how the story starts and ends - I'm one of those writers who gets the title first and then wonders "what the heck story goes with that"! The middle is still a little jumbled, I hate a story that sounds contrived because the writer wanted something to happen. If something happens in my story it has to be a) because that's what you'd expect or b) it's a twist in the story that leads you logically to somewhere else. There's nothing worse than reading something and then feeling the writer cheated on you because something improbable happened to force the story to go in a particular direction. I don't mind the ones where you have to go back a few pages, or stop to think, so long as the reaction is "ok, I can see that happening".

So right now I'm thinking. Thoughtful repose. Not rushing my characters to make their next move, letting the story unfold and tell itself. I'm still figuring the changes required because of that key character having to stay alive, and am aware there's one more twist associated with that decision. Had he died, then my main character would have a difficult choice removed from him, he would simply do nothing. But with this character still alive he has to make a choice. A moral choice. I'm really looking forward to reading how it all turns out.

It's just one of those days

Everything electronic is on a go slow. The answer, of course, is to reboot the computer. That, however, would mean forcing outlook to close. And outlook has been at the bottom of most of today's semi-shutdown. It is now open in safe mode. It took a mere 47 minutes to achieve that blessed state.

But, at least now it is working. Itunes has decided that it does in fact love my shuffle - well at least now that I've booted Spotify off the desktop.

I'm finally giving up. Switching off. I may return. Then again....

Procrastination and the common cold

I'm suffering from both of these afflictions and can't quite decide which is worse. On reflection, the common cold may just have the upperhand as I think it is the cause of my procrastination. But I could be wrong. The throat soothers I rescued from the far reaches of my desk drawer are a tad sticky. The promised liquid centre is, in fact, a solid sticky mass that is currently congealing its way around my teeth. They are, I think, rather ancient. At least I can't actually remember buying them and there's only a third of a pack left. The last time I had a sore throat and needed soothers was way before Christmas.

I had sat down at my keyboard with the avowed intent to write a couple of hundred words, in this my lunchtime break. Instead I have struggled to tweet and have been distracted by the various links to "tips for writers", which keep appearing on my twitter page. Most of those I went to were about avoiding procrastination, a tad ironic don't cha think?

First thing though, I did finish up the murder scene of my new story. I wrote it straight through and then went back to read it. It scared the hell out of me, I think I may have nightmares. What scares me more though, is the fact that I imagined all this horror. I think I need to tame it down a lot, after all I'm writing a murder/mystery not a horror story.

The second soother is even more sticky than the first - something I did not think possible. I shall have to abandon my writing endeavors and go find some floss....

Not another set of writing tips!!!

Every writer has their own set of tips and thoughts and just about everything, on how the writing thing gets done. I know this because I think I've read them all.

The thing about writing is you just have to do it. No amount of reading about what you should, or shouldn't, do is going to get it done. And just because these 10 things work for some bigshot writer, doesn't mean they're going to work for you.

Do you really need someone to tell you that to be a writer you also need to be a reader? If you don't read books, how can you write readable books? Do you really need someone to tell you that show is way better than tell? Really?

I went once to a creative writing course. It was the worst experience of my life. All these budding writers vying to show off their skills and tell their stories. They didn't need to impress me, I wasn't there for their writing I was there for my own. They willingly crunched their thoughts and ideas into the formats demanded of the course leader. Now, I have to come clean and admit that I learned more about me as a writer at that course than I had in the years of writing in solitary in the proverbial darkened room. I didn't learn how to construct a story in 30 minutes - I learned that I was a slow burner, taking ideas, logging them, allowing my brain to sift the good from the bad, reconfiguring and eventually coming up with an idea that might lead to a story.

I learned that sharing my half baked thoughts is something I'd rather do with my partner, than half a dozen strangers - no matter how into writing they might be. And that I don't think in the same way that that particular group of individuals all seemed to be able to do. I also didn't want to please teacher. When I write I want to come out the other end with something that I want to read.

So my writing tips.

1. Know what you like to read and why.
2. Write for you first and foremost - afterall, you read other peoples' books so there must be an audience just like you out there.
3. Listen to what others have to say, but make your own mind up.
4. Share your thoughts and writings with those you trust to tell you what they really think, preferably non-writers themselves they won't feel the need to compete.
5. When you do find that writer buddy who helps you without comparing your work to theirs, treasure them.
6. Write, write and keep on writing. Then read it over and over, editing it until it looks like something that might interest you if you were to pick it up in a book store.
7. Try turning it into an e-book and read it on your kindle or ipad - it's amazing how this changes your view of what you've just written.
8. Above all, enjoy the person you are.

It's been some time since my last confession

I've been doing so many things since before Christmas that blogging just seemed to fall by the wayside. I decided that there would be no New Year resolutions because invariably those only last a day or two.

Instead, I decided that February would be my month of action. So starting today (I only just thought about the month of action thing over breakfast), this month will be my starting point for loadsa stuff.

Like, as I'm in New York and the biathlon is in Fort Kent, I'm heading up there today to spend the rest of the weekend with snow, skis and rifles. Who knows, I may even get a little skiing in myself.

Then it's back to the UK. And in all honesty, I have to knuckle down and reduce the chubby factor associated with these cheeks. Trouble is when my writing is going well, and it is :) my eating keeps pace. Too much snacking, not enough walking. Maybe I should buy a treadmill, then I could write and walk.

Then again, maybe not.

Snow

Normally I love the snow, and for the first couple of days it was fun. No trains, no way the car was moving from the garage, just snuggle up in a comfy couch and enjoy. Three weeks (yes, 3 weeks) later and my enthusiasm is beginning to wane.

I know there are those who have snow for months on end, but that's not our norm. In fact, living near the beach as I do, we rarely get to enjoy the white stuff. The city council are beginning to get the hang of clearing the streets, I just wish the guys would use their brains. They clear the snow and ice to the edge of the pavement, creating huge mounds. This requires significant mountaineering expertise for any pedestrian unfortunate enough to find themselves needing to actually cross from one side of the street to the other. Luckily, I have crampons and the required skills to deal with such impediments - although I have not yet found it necessary to carry my ice axe, any more snow and that too might become an essential accessory for the determined pedestrian.

Some of my fellow writers have commented on how this change in climatic conditions has made them think about how they portray weather in their writing. It's a good thought, and made me wonder if I was neglecting some vital elements in my story telling. I mentioned this to my friend who is an expert in glaciers. I truly wish I hadn't. I really didn't need to know about the jet stream currently occupying a different position to normal, nor that the outcome of this meant that the cold will last until late January at least. My friend was less forthcoming on the long range prospect of a white Christmas - more snow, he told me, is down to local circumstances but chances are the remains of what we currently have will hang around for some considerable time yet.

My nephew thinks that we all could learn from Santa Claus, afterall no matter the weather every Christmas Eve he manages to deliver the presents all around the world. Here's hoping he isn't disappointed.....

Mechanical refill

There was this guy on the train. Big guy. He was obviously trying to lose weight, he turned down the complimentary biscuit in favor of some berries he'd bought. A whole punnet of raspberries and one of strawberries. He first polished off one of those huge chicken salad baguettes, full of mayo. Then the berries. He tipped both into the one punnet and didn't stop eating 'til they were gone.

My journey's only 20 minutes and he had consumed all of this in half that time.

I'm trying to eat healthy too. The chocolate bar I'm eating right now is my cheat treat. One square at a time. Slowly. Savor that chocolate taste. Chew at least 10 times. Swallow slowly. Let the brain register that the chocolate has landed.

I've had one square. 5 minutes ago. I'm thinking about the flavor. Still tasting its residue in my mouth. Sure, I could eat the whole bar right now. But would I feel any different having consumed all 6 squares? Well, yes because I wouldn't have the expectation of the 5 delicious mouthfuls to come.

I've put my chocolate bar away. I can look forward to the next piece later.

It occurred to me that the guy on the train wasn't eating. He was consuming what he had in a short period. He didn't savor his food, each mouthful was cleared simply to make way for the next. Did he need all he ate? The berries may have been healthier but in those quantities the sugar levels are pretty high. And he could have chosen the chicken salad minus the mayo. My wife got quite mesmerised watching the constant movement from berry box to mouth to berry box to mouth, over and over again. No pause. The brain not getting a chance to figure if the stomach is full or not. By the time the signal gets through, he'll be overfull and the food gone.

"Mechanical refill" said my wife.

News Junkie

My darling wife gave me an ipad for no other reason than because she loves me. It's changed my life. I've become a news junkie. You name the news app. I've got it. LA Times, NY Times, The Guardian, Discovery News, MTV, CNN, BBC..... reading it all and loving it.

It's now July....

So I kind of guess that the new year resolution thing was a bit of a no show. It seems that the things I decide to do, turn out to be the exact opposite of reality. Pay more attention to blog = completely ignore it for 6 months or so.

So here's my new, half way through the year resolution. I'm going to ignore the blog. I'm also gonna make thousands of new resolutions.

Right.

My New Year Resolution

..was to pay more attention to my blog. I know it's February, just consider me a slow starter.

So. How you been? I'm freezing my butt off here in Scotland, looking forward to being back in California later this year.

My wife said have some soup for lunch, that'll warm you up. I burned my tongue. Hot stuff that soup.

So I thought what other hot stuff do I like?

My wife - hi sweetie.

Chillies - spicy pasta, yum

Log fires - especially on a snowy day

Oh, and soup when I'm cold!

It's been a while...

The rain is pouring down outside. It's warm and muggy. Oh, yeah, and wet.

So, with a few minutes left before I brave the great outdoors, I thought I'd revisit my blog. I can see that it's been neglected over the last couple of months. Not that I haven't thought about it. It's just I've been pulled in too many directions.

Like my friend, who has finally bitten the bullet and broken up with her partner - a term I use loosely. Whilst the words are out there, they have a lot of untangling to do. Eighteen years is a long time to be together and as a consequence there's a lot of belongings that belong to both. I'm not sure how you begin to unravel all of that. It got me to thinking though how often people find themselves in relationships they should have gotten out of before they even started.

My friend, let's call her Alice, got into this relationship because it's what was on offer. The only two women she's ever truly loved were unavailable (still are); and she settled for someone she didn't really love, but who made her laugh. Don't get me wrong, laughing is good, but it's not enough. Alice thought that she had to settle for whatever was left because the 2 people she really wanted to be with, didn't want to be with her. Personally, I think that's crap.

Maybe it's a rare thing, to be with the one you really want and for them to be with you, the one they really want. But if only one of you really wants to be there, and the other is settling for less than what they really wanted, how's that gonna work?

Relationships aren't easy at the best of times - oh sure, the first couple of years when lust is high and it's all fun and new, then it's easy. But when the first flush is over, what then? I think John Cleese has a point when he says that marriage licences should be renewable after the first three years. That's the minimum I think it takes for two people to truly get to know each other. Most relationships that breakdown do so around the three- four year mark. Round about the time when you get into the negotiation phase. The time when you realise that the compromise you made to start with in the full throwes of lustful desire, will be with you for the rest of your time together. That's when you have to ask if this is the relationship you want for the rest of your life. Is this the relationship you want to be in 30 years from now. If she gets sick, terminally sick, can you be there for her? What if she loses her memory. Needs you to feed her. Can you do that. For as long as she, or you, is alive.

Do you want to live here because you're both happy here - or just her? Or for that matter, just you?

My wife's waiting downstairs for me, so I guess I need to wrap up. Where do I want to be in 30 years? Still living, still enjoying life!