I’ve started writing on my hand again – I used to do that when I was a teenager. I also did it in my early twenties. Then I stopped for a while. Not sure why I stopped – I just did. And now, at 31, the back of my left hand says ‘Call Vic’, because I need to call her, along with a hastily added ‘+ Dad’ underneath, because I need to call him too.
Continue readingwriting
Tubby, Or Not Tubby
I continue my slow, sensual crip walk into eccentricity. I’m certainly going through a bit of a ‘phase’, but I’m not really sure how to define it. I’m just sort of… exploring things. Finding new pursuits.
Continue readingA Sliver of Book, A Side of Chatter
Alright. Let us begin with:
The Siege of Pugglemunt, Chapter Seventeen: An Excerpt
They had crested the horizon: the view was clear from the Magic Tower. In one great, rippling, flesh-and-leather coloured mass, the dark horde was approaching from the west, moving fast across the fields surrounding Pugglemunt. Thin plumes of black smoke went up from every home and hovel they rode past. I was glad I’d given the order to summon all surrounding villagers to the keep. Actually, hang on a second—
“Quince, did I give the order to summon all surrounding villagers to the keep?”
“No, my liege.”
“Oh GOD. SHIT.”
Continue readingOn Juggling and Denzel Washington
Started learning to juggle. Dunno why really. It’s just cool, isn’t it? When you discover that someone you know can juggle, you always find them a bit more interesting – a little bit more mysterious. Because who in their right mind learns to juggle? What’s the benefit? Surely it takes a very long time to get good at it – and who has a very long time to do anything these days, let alone whap a trio of soft balls endlessly from palm to palm? And then there’s the practical stuff: how did they learn? You never walk through the park and see a would-be juggler at the outset, teetering around with their neck craned skywards and arms windmilling, balls flying everywhere as they grimace and whisper ‘oh fucking hell’. If you see someone juggling in a park, they can already juggle well. Who trains them? There’s something a tiny bit magical about it.
Continue readingAt Home | All A-Glow
I finished my book!
I finished my book this morning, the Australia one – rewrote the end, finally found the right words after weeks, months of sitting at my laptop and writing things and then deleting them over and over until I finally go ‘PRICK!’ at myself and slam it shut. But now it’s done.
Continue readingBristol: A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dan
I’ve always felt one of the surest signs of a writer in a rut is that they start writing about writing. Hi there, I’m Dan.
Melbourne: It All Relates
I always hesitate to publish articles like the last one, because of course when I write them I am feeling emotional. I’ve learned a few things during my time on earth, and one of the earliest lessons I taught myself was not to speak in anger – I still do it of course, and more often than I’d like, but I try my best to avoid it. I remember as a kid in primary school having arguments with family and friends, and feeling rotten afterwards as the anger subsides and the empathy creeps in and guilt shades everything. I feel guilty about telling Australia to fuck off, is what I’m trying to say. Sorry Australia. You have your flaws, but so does everywhere, everyone, and everything. Continue reading
Australia: Beach Bum
So I’m in Australia now, as far as I can be sure. I’ve certainly met a few people called Brodie. Continue reading
Well, I’m Writing Another Book
I finished my last (and first!) book a few months back – it’s not published or anything, but I’m pretty fuckin’ proud of it. Anyway I was in Goa back in March and was slapped by an idea for a new story that I’m really excited about. I’ve been trying to write it while travelling, but between writing my travel diaries and doing a bit of freelance work and being drunk all the time, I’ve written about a thousand words in three months. It’ll get done eventually. But I just finished the first few pages and I’d like to share them, because I feel giddy and proud. It’s a first draft, so of course I will loathe it entirely in a day or two’s time, but for now I’m quite happy with it. Have a gander, if you fancy x
The Berlin Diaries – Spoken Word, Finally!
Oi you lot, guess what.
No wait, don’t guess, because there’s no point, because I’m going to tell you in around a hundred and fifty words’ time, and anyway you lack the means to actually respond to me beyond yelling at your laptop screen and, though it certainly tickles me to imagine you getting all red faced hollering at a small plastic oblong, in the end t’would be only a waste of both your time and mine, although I suppose I’ve already wasted my time by writing this – and wasted yours by making you read it – and so basically, what I really want to say is: I am deeply sorry for ever starting this sentence which is, to be frank, so lengthy as to be obscene, and I wouldn’t at all blame you if you logged off your computer right now and went for a lie down rather than read the rest of this god-forsaken shit-heap of an article. Continue reading