Author Archives: Ben

30 day photo challenge – day 1

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Here’s the rules:

And so here’s the picture for Dee Wurn, me (last summer in Gothenburg) with ten facts (presumably about myself).

  1. According to Chinese astrology I am a snake dominated by wood. I don’t believe a word of it, which is typical of us Aquarians.
  2. I’m a Belfast child, though you might have difficulty believing this if we ever met.
  3. Of my father’s three best mates in his early army days, two were selected as my godfathers and the third became a multi-millionaire. Nice call, Dad.
  4. My first school was Hampton Dene primary school, Hereford.
  5. My first professional sale was “Digital Cats Come Out Tonight”, to the anthology Digital Dreams, ed. David V. Barrett, 1991.
  6. 1 September this year will be my decimal birthday – 17,000 days!
  7. My grandfather fought at Kohima, of which fact I am dead proud.
  8. If there can be too much chocolate in my life, I have yet to reach that stage.
  9. I have never met the Queen, the Pope or the President of the USA. I have however shaken hands with Richard Dawkins and have a dedicated copy of Tom Baker’s autobiography.
  10. I am a Christian.

Political pensées

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I’m currently feeling quite well disposed towards our elected representatives in Westminster so I thought I’d mention it while it lasts.

There are of course drawbacks as well. Things like the expenses scandal are just background noise by now: no, current reservations centre around the Hoff’s new buddy.

  • Guess what – he’s making the rich richer. He is not an evil man and he’s not doing it for the sheer thrill of putting money into his friends’ pockets. Thatcher was motivated by spite and ideology in equal part; with Dave it’s just ideology, sadly misplaced. He is sincere in his belief that everyone benefits by making the rich richer, just as his predecessor but one was sincere in his belief that you can create paradise on earth with a web of ever more restricting legislation on every aspect of human affairs that will be perfect if everyone only obeys it in exactly the spirit they’re meant to. And they’re both equally wrong.
  • The Big Society: see above. Lovely idea and fine in a world where everyone is as Dave would like them to be. Which they’re not, as brilliantly put by Philip Pullman in a speech mostly about libraries but covering other bases too.

At the moment that’s still more plus points than minuses, which is a nice feeling.

Day 11: a picture of something you hate

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AAAGGGHH!

I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate people using the fact that I’m a writer to start conversations. I know, I know, they’re just trying to make small talk, they’re not really interested in the answer, it’s all part of the glorious round of social interaction … but fer crying out loud, if you want small talk, talk about the weather.

I will gladly talk about my writing to an audience likely to understand the subtexts. Someone in the know will probably ask “what are you writing on” or “what is your current project”, which is very different. That has scope for a meaningful answer.

But this … this, quite innocently (I understand that, which is why I don’t thump them) suggests something that means so much to me is but a dilettante hobby. The questions are so clueless, so utterly without understanding of the basic facts; our starting points are so far apart there can be no hope for reconciliation within the context of small talk.

“Are you still writing?” Why, yes. Are you still breathing? The answer is ALWAYS. Why can’t you get that into your head?

“How’s the writing?” Fine, thanks. How’s the marriage?

“Have you written any more books?” This is the one that so gets me. Would you ask an architect if he’s built any more houses? A mother if she’s had any more babies … since you saw her last week? In the popular imagination, books just slide out like wet concrete off a trowel, at about the same rate as Ernie Wise churned out plays. There is no conception that if you asked this question last week and ask it again today then chances are good that nothing will have changed. It takes time to write a book.

Rant over. For now.