2014 - Reflections on a year

So we stand on the verge of another collection of days that we shall group loosely into something we call 'months'.  Let's have twelve of them (the months, not the days) and let's call the whole shebang a 'year'.

Yes, it's not New Year's Eve yet (that particular delight comes tomorrow) but as I shall be spending the majority of tomorrow 'out' having that 'social life' that I always dreamed of, I thought now would be as good a time as any for a reflection on the last twelve months, and some musings on the twelve months to come.

2014 - the Good Parts

It was an interesting year.  After the slow start towards the end of 2013 with the whole 'giving up working for other people' schtick and setting out on my own, I got up a bit of speed.  I did some marketing work, some admin work and some writing and editing.  At one point, I even managed nearly a whole month writing a thousand words a day (micro short stories on any subject that took my fancy).

I saw the Greatest Movie in The World Ever (TM) in Guardians of the Galaxy.  Eight times.  In three different cinemas in three completely different parts of the country, across two different formats.  All joking aside, here was a movie that made me fall in love with the whole process of creating. I can listen or read for hours about how this movie was made, what different elements went into the casting, the set design, every little bit of the minutiae.  Most importantly, it inspired me to write two shorts, and there are more writhing around in my brain meat like elusive maggots, waiting to be bagged and tagged on the page.

I was accepted into two different fiction anthologies, both to be published next year.  One was 'weird' fiction, (Reflections by Fox Spirit) so I wrote a correspondingly weird story for it. The other was horror (Chip Shop Horrors by Knightwatch Press) - not my natural comfort zone - so I wrote something horrific for it.  Apparently, both ploys worked, so look out for them in 2015.

I wrote acres of stuff for Mantic Games - background (a.k.a 'fluff') for three different universes/settings, including Topps' Mars Attacks universe.  I have lots more to carry on writing, and editing.  I met many writers over the course of editing an anthology, and making the difficult decisions of who to admit and who to turn away.  All were generous and kind to a fault about the whole thing, whether I was delivering good or bad news, making me believe that all are barking very much up the right tree (metaphorically speaking  stick with me here).

I got name-checked in the acknowledgements of three different novels, two of which were just for READING THINGS AND OFFERING OPINIONS.  Considering the two authors in question, that alone was enough to make me go all googly.  That they had asked my opinions at all was staggering enough.  That they were grateful enough for them to acknowledge them in public just sent me dribbly.  And one of them (he knows who he is) almost literally broke my will to even try sitting at a keyboard again thanks to how ridiculously cleverly plotted his stuff was.  I powered through it, but only just, so thanks John ;)

I travelled a far amount this year too, and made new and exciting friends who helped me in so many ways.  My health is improving, and more importantly my awareness of it is improving.  My belief in my own abilities grew just that little bit.  I SOCIALISED more in this one year than I think I had in the last ten.  I went to the theatre, I went to events, I met new people, I even ATE IN PUBLIC.  Truly, 2014 was a year of craziness. So thanks also to Arti, Medhia, Snarf (don't ask), Rupa, Pete, Ruth, Simon, Paul, Sue, Phil, Tim, Nikki, Liam, Ross and so many others that I can't even count. You're all wonderful.

2014 - the not so good parts

Any who have followed this blog since its inception will be aware that 2014 sucked in one big giant way.  My cousin Terry was taken away from the world far too early when he contracted bacterial meningitis which killed him in a matter of hours.  I could (and probably in future will) fill endless pages with just how good a person Terry was, how much he is missed by all who knew and loved him, and how much I regret having taken for granted that he would always be around.  Various factors throughout the span of my life contributed to ensure that Terry and I were not as well acquainted as I would like us to have been.  But I knew him enough to know the most important truths about him.  He was unfailingly kind and generous of spirit.  He was always practical, ready to find the solution to any problem.  He was loyal and patient.  He was incredibly hard working.  He never accepted any limit that the world tried to impose on him.  And he loved his wife more than anything else in the world.  It is often said in this cynical age of ours that of course people only speak well of the dead.  In Terry's case, it is genuinely because there is no ill to speak of, and nor was there ever.  In thirty years of life, I don't believe that he ever did or said one bad, selfish or unkind thing.  As I stare down the barrel of my thirty-fifth year on the planet, I can think of no finer example to follow, and I will always do my best to keep Terry in mind, wherever I am and whatever I do.

It was also a difficult year for others in my life.  My father in law, now 83, had a year of health hiccups, from his minor heart attack in May (or 'Episode of attention-seeking fakery', as we prefer to call it when he and I speak of the matter) to a suspected minor stroke shorty after Terry's passing, and the odd funny turn along the way.  Thanks to the attentions of a good GP friend, we were able to get him precisely the medical attention and investigation that he needed, which surprisingly confirmed that for his age, he's actually not in bad shape at all.  Long may that continue.

My own father managed to fall off a stepladder and do himself a fairly serious injury, smashing his shoulder into lots and lots of tiny pieces.  Some twenty-odd years younger than my father in law he may be, but I still think he should be banned from climbing any more ladders.  He disagrees, and thus the debate continues.  Needless to say, I think I'm right (but then when isn't that the case?)  Regardless, he is now a real life bionic man, with a titanium plate and several screws holding the various disparate parts of bone remaining in his shoulder together.  I am reliably informed that he will not set off airport alarms, but he will likely feel the cold more keenly in winter.  Maybe that'll remind him not to climb any more bloody ladders...

I have watched several friends struggle this year, with varying degrees of severity.  Depression is a word that gets thrown around all too freely in our supposedly all-knowing society, and covers a variety of shades from feeling a little down to wanting to just throw oneself off a bridge.  Fortunately, the ones I care for who face these issues have not gotten as far as the latter, though they are quite a way removed from the former.  I hope that I have been of some comfort to them in the dark times, and that I can look forward to sharing with them lots of brighter ones in the year to come.  If they are reading this at all, they know who they are, and hopefully they equally know that I am here for them as ever.

As to me.  It's been a year in which I have faced many challenges.  From the mundane (filling out my tax return and earning money) to the extreme (bereavement, growing up more, taking responsibility for things I had never really considered before) I think I have been more fundamentally altered by these last twelve months than by the preceding twelve years.  Life is a journey (and other such chocolate box cliches), and I am always fascinated by those moments when one becomes aware of it.  There have been a lot more of those for me this year, and I can only hope that they will have made me into a better person.

Most of all, I have learned that life is precious, and not to be taken for granted.  For whatever reason, I find myself blessed enough to be able to create words that others deem good enough to be paid for. That was my dream for so many years, and the danger there is that once you have achieved your dream, it is too easy to rest on your laurels and assume that the journey is done.  Too often this year, I have spoken about writing rather than doing it.  Too many times, I have been seduced by the idea of having been accepted for publication, rather than focusing on the next step on the journey. Yes, I am of a standard right now where I can get published and noticed.  But now is the time to improve upon that standard and get noticed more.  Now is the time to stop looking at things I watch and read and listen to, saying 'I could do better', and to actually put pen to paper and fingers to keys and DO IT.  It's an almighty cliche to be saying all these things on New Year's Eve of course (or even on the day before) but there we go - I cannot help the serendipity of timing any more than I can go back and alter the last 52 weeks in any way, much as I may like to.

I was going to say that I hoped that 2015 would be a better year.  I think that's a natural enough reaction in the wake of so much illness, death and sadness.  It would be a bigger cliche to sit here and sigh that this is just a sign of getting older - one more thing we must accept as we shuffle mercilessly onwards towards that gentleman with the scythe, waiting to keep his inevitable appointment with us all.

So I will say this: I hope that the changes wrought on me - good and bad - by the last 365 days, enable me to face the next 8,760 hours with enough grace, dignity and positivity that I shall be able to sit here 525,600 minutes from now reflecting on a year well-spent.

In the meantime, I hope that anyone who cares to read this has an absolutely amazing New Years, wherever and with whomever you spend it, and that the coming 31,536,000 seconds give you all that you work for.

Thanks

G

Remember when willpower was enough?

A few weeks ago, while speaking to my co-editor and good buddy EJ Davies, he told me about something called the Pavlok.  If you haven't heard of it, go ahead and google it.  I'll be right here, no worries.

For those who can't be bothered to google it, the Pavlok is a wrist band which is marketed as a 'personal coach on your wrist'.  It is a wristband that delivers electric shocks to the wearer, and is designed to do so whenever they are in danger of doing (or not doing as the case may be) whatever thing it is that they shouldn't (or should) be doing.  Basically, it is a negative reinforcement device, designed to apply something unpleasant in order to force the user into compliance.  Hence the clever pun-name 'Pavlok'.

My instant reaction, as a 34 year old man-child who is self employed, works from home and suffers greatly at times with regards to motivation, was that I would gladly have one.  Then I thought about it a bit more, and about the kind of pattern it represented, and I began to realise something - willpower has become something of an old-fashioned concept in modern society.

Sure, that may seem like a sweeping statement, but think about it for a second.  We don't tell smokers to quit cold turkey anymore.  We tell them that help is at hand with 'nicotine replacement therapy' and 'e-cigarettes'.  Many of the commercials aren't even subtle anymore - they flat out disparage the 'willpower method', consigning it to the dustbin of certain failure before it has even been tried.  You can see it elsewhere too.  Companies that will send you your ready prepared 'healthy meals' to your door if you want to lose weight, counting the calories so that you don't have to.  Finance that enables you to have that latest, newest shiny thing that you absolutely must have without the inconvenience of actually saving up to pay for it.

I fully accept (and in many ways appreciate) the fact that we live in an age of technology that allows us many luxuries.  We can shop, bank and transact business of all kinds without actually having to leave the house.  We can research complex subjects without the hassle of leafing through thousands of pages of dusty textbooks that may or may not be out of date.  And we can provide a crutch for those who need it, using the benefits of technology to help them overcome otherwise insurmountable personal mountains.

But are they even trying?  That's my real question.  I might have reflexively joked that the Pavlok was just what I needed in my life, but I am a grown man and I am capable of actually sitting my ass down and doing the things that I need to do if I put my mind to it.  I can even eat more healthily after a lifetime of not doing so.  I quit smoking with nary a whiff of nicotine gum, e cigs or anything else - ok so I read a book, but I hardly think that counts to the same level.

I'm not trying to bash people here.  I know better than mos the struggles that some people can have with weight loss and comfort eating and other forms of addiction.  But I worry about a society where a band that gives you electric shocks if you aren't doing whatever the thing is that you think you should be doing is the solution - surely if the thing itself is not motivation enough, that speaks to a deeper problem? I WANTED to quit smoking when I did, and so I damned well did and haven't looked back.  But all the other times, the times when I thought I probably SHOULD quit because friends and family were nagging me, I would spend a torturous few days/weeks/months without cigarettes, making everyone else's lives miserable, and then inevitably fold and light up once again.

So my point is, if you want to do more exercise, or lose some weight, or quit smoking or whatever, I think that the first thing that you really NEED to do is think really hard about whether the goal is something that you WANT or just a thing that you feel compelled to do for some other reason.  If you WANT to eat more healthily, then you will.  If you WANT to stop smoking, you will find a way.  If you WANT to lose weight, then you will look at ways of doing it, be that portion control, exercise or whatever mixture of both suits you (NB I realise that weight loss is a tricky one - again, I have experience enough to know that some people can eat as little and exercise as much as they like and still find themselves unable to shake excess weight, but my point here is that if they WANT to then they should be able to do the less eating and/or more exercising without a portable bloody generator delivering shocks to them if they don't).

Willpower alone can be tough - of course it can.  And help is not something that anyone should ever feel ashamed to seek - I speak there as someone who has suffered personally with mental issues and physical ones.  But I think the key differentiator here is 'help'.  Help to achieve some goal that you are setting yourself is one thing.  Strapping a band to your arm that will FORCE you to set off for that goal on pain of receiving an electric shock strikes me less as seeking assistance and more as just accepting from the start that you can't possibly do it and therefore abstaining all responsibility whatsoever.  And that can't be right, can it?

Nice porn only please, we're British

So, it seems that a few days ago, the UK government passed an amendment to the 2003 communications act with regards to 'Video on Demand' pornography, which essentially bans porn produced in the UK from displaying certain stuff, including:

Spanking

Caning

Aggressive whipping

Penetration by any object "associated with violence"

Physical or verbal abuse (regardless of  if consensual)

Urolagnia (known as "water sports")

Role-playing as non-adults

Physical restraint

Humiliation

Female ejaculation

Strangulation

Facesitting

Fisting

With the last three being classified by the BBFC as 'potentially life endangering'.

As one might expect, there has been an outcry from many corners about this.  The 'nanny state' telling us what is 'nice' sex and what is not, the fact that at least one of the banned acts is something that involves female pleasure and all the other objections you might expect.  What has surprised me is that there doesn't seem to be much discussion here of what is the real, underlying issue.

It's no secret that in the modern age, where any kid with a smartphone (and most seem to have them) can access the whole of that wonderful behemoth known as The Internet at their leisure, that kids are watching more porn.  That in and of itself isn't really all that worrying.  I saw my first 'rhythm magazine' before I was into double digits, age wise, and it didn't leave me with any lasting scars or any kind of odd attitudes towards women or sex.  But the point is, the vast majority of kids in the UK are still getting most of their information about sex from the playground and from porn.  Sex education in the UK is woefully inadequate to task, and more worryingly, the very parents who seem content to blame schools for lacking in their educational provision don't seem to be talking all that much to their kids about sex either.

Sex in the UK remains one of those things that simply isn't discussed in polite company.  Oh sure, we TALK about it.  God alone knows that we never seem to shut up about it, from Cosmo to Heat, from the Tabloids to TV shows covering Dogging, wife swapping and even kids going abroad to simply get laid.  It's in our advertising, in our movies, on our brands and on our cinema screens.  Endless 'edgy' pop stars warble about it in increasingly inane ways and the whole world throws its hands up in despair at anyone unhip enough to not 'get it'.  

And yet, we don't ever really speak about sex.  We talk loudly about the idealised picture of it  Young women (and men) are intimidated by the images of perfect sexuality that are rammed into their eyeballs from every direction.  They are told simply what the mechanics of sexual intercourse are at school, and how it can lead to pregnancy, but if they get more than a glance at techniques, or anything that suggests sex might be recreational as well as procreational, then they're doing bloody well.  No, We simply tell them what the mechanics are, tell them they should wait until they are much older when they will understand better, and then leave them to it.  Is it any wonder then, that they turn to the most readily available sources of education in these matters that they can find?

And herein lies the issue with certain types of pornography.  If young person sees a film in which a woman is humiliated and debased, or has stuff shoved into her that you might not normally expect a woman to have shoved into her, they don't have the contextual experience or education to know that this might be a 'niche' thing dependent on taste.  They may (and often do) simply assume that what they are seeing is just par for the course.  This may terrify them, as they look at something which doesn't do anything for them (and it follows that if we are defending people's right to be into whatever sexual practices they like then we must similarly defend people's right not to be as well) or it may cause them to simply assume that they can do things to people rather than with them.  It can lead, in short, to a very warped point of view with regards to sex.

I'm not saying that we need to ban any kind of pornography - what people want to do and watch is entirely down to them, though there is plenty of suggestion that those involved in performing in these movies can often suffer, both emotionally and physically, from the extremes of demand that are placed on them and the frequency with which this is done.  I'd like to think that if we could get over the prevailing attitude in the western world that sex is some kind of inherently shameful and harmful thing that we must protect the masses from as much as possible that this is another issue that might be addressed, but that's not really the topic for today.

But what we do need to do is stop hiding sex away from kids.  Again, I get that it's in their faces plenty in terms of TV and magazines, but it also isn't.  We don't take the time to explain to young people that there are different kinds of sexual activity, that some people like stuff which is very specific and which isn't for everyone.  We don't take the time to encourage them to explore this in a healthy and consensual way - we just hide any evidence of it from them because it might be 'harmful', we ban pornography, we shame those who engage in practices that are outside the normal, and we create and perpetuate the very problems that we then attempt, inadequately to address.

Don't get me wrong - I don't think that primary school kids need to know about bondage and S&M.  They don't NEED to know much, other than the basic mechanics required to satiate the inherent curiosity that drives every small child to ask, at some point, where babies come from.  But kids at secondary school, kids who are hitting puberty and experiencing all sorts of new and bewildering feelings and have no real idea of how to act on them - these are the kids that we should be educating.  Don't show them porn, but make them aware that sex isn't just some single track, vanilla thing.  Let them know that it's an infinite variety of orientations and tastes, and that the most important thing that they can bear in mind is respect for the other person/people they embark on that journey with.

If we could do that, then maybe we could create a world in which sex wasn't such a big and awkward issue.  And maybe then nobody would have to ban anybody's porn, which lets face it, is not that many steps removed from the police standing in your bedroom making sure that you're only having 'nice and appropriate' sex.  And who wants that?

My dog ate it and then there was a storm...

It's been a while since I last wrote a blog.  Those who have followed this from the start will understand that this is not something that I am happy about.  I can't help but feel that insistent nudge at the back of my mind that says I should be writing, and that the blog is as good a place as any to start that, and as time drags on and days become weeks and life shoves obstacles (enjoyable and not so enjoyable) between me and the keyboard, that feeling just gets worse.

Mostly, I have just been busy.  I have been catching up rather hard on what I refer to generally as 'the day job' - i.e. the part that pays most of my bills but isn't as fun.  It's not bad - mechanical and slightly maddening at times, but it's something I did for six years straight in a previous life so it's easy enough to return to and it keeps me occupied (and funded). 

I have also been busy having a social life - November has that tendency these last few years, with an annual pilgrimmage to Nottingham to see friends who have become part of my extended family and then a local show which I attend here in Reading the following weekend.  There was also a trip to the Royal Television Society to see Steven Moffat and various others talk about the latest season of Doctor Who, a trip to London to see a musical (Made in Dagenham), some cinema trips, some driving to various and sundry places and generally a whole lot of going places inbetween attempting occasionally to chain myself to a desk and get some work done.

I've always said that it is better to be busy than bored, and I stand by that.  But being busy for me can be an issue because I am not the most organised person in the world.  I am married to the most organised person in the world though, and tat helps a fair bit because without her I would never get anything done at all ever.  I actually had the pleasure of taking her with me to Nottingham this year for the first time, and introducing her in person to a whole bunch of people who had heard about her plenty but never met her.  Predictably, they all loved her (probably more than they like me) and rather less predictably she turned out to be a hell of a Cards Against Humanity player, which surprised everyone, but nobody more than me.

Nonetheless, busy usually equals a disorganised Greg, as I flail from one project to another. Because of my infamously intense but extremely short bursts of attention span, this means I will often have half a dozen things on the go and this makes for messiness when I inevitably forget one or more of them.  The one thing that I have managed to maintain over recent weeks is the eating more healthily thing.  Now, I mentioned this in the last blog and here I am a month later still getting it done.  I won't pretend that I am cooking cordon bleu every night, but I haven't eaten anything out of a microwave or a packet in a month.  There has been much more fruit and vegetable content, much more 'cooking from scratch' and much less bad stuff.  In fact, I had my first 'bad stuff' at the weekend having had a gastroscopy (worst experience of my life so far) and I decided I was entitled to a treat.

I'm quite proud of this eating better thing.  It's made me feel better within myself, both because of the actual health benefit and because I feel a sense of achievement.  It also gives me hope about other stuff.  I never thought that I would be able to break the habit of my lousy eating and actually bother myself to eat right, and yet here I am doing it.  It bodes well for the other stuff that I have never thought myself capable of - being organised, having a tidy living space, getting exercise etc.

And maybe even keeping a regular blog. We can but hope.  In the meantime, I'll just have to put up with this sore spot in the back of my mind where Terry keeps kicking me.