6th January 2018
You can’t always get what you want. We all know that because we’ve all just been through Christmas. I wanted a short wheel base Mercedes-Benz Unimog with extra tyre replacements, but all I got was a request from The Bodleian Library, Oxford, for a perpetuitous (!) copy of The Meifod Claw.
I wanted a new vinyl player. I don’t have any of them right now, but I do so like the way you have to treat them gently. It’s why people who I know hide theirs away when I come round, or else stretch a tea cosy over the player and I hope I don’t get suspicious. Regardless, all I got was a request from University Library, Cambridge for a copy of The Meifod Claw.
I wanted some new cantilever loppers, most probably Wolf Garten. I don’t generally go for multi-tool attachments, but Wolf Garten’s can attach themselves to anything; I had a Hyundai working at the end of one of their multi-pole’s once. Had no use for it, and I wasn’t even surprised that they fitted each other. Of course they did. Anyway, all I got was a request from Trinity College, Dublin for a copy of The Meifod Claw.
I wanted my own Hop Garden. Now just to make clear, in real terms a Hop Garden is bigger than the word garden implies. It means a farm. But I knew that, and that’s what I wanted, albeit preferably fully irrigated, but maybe not even then. I’m not a picky man, but all I got was a request from The National Library of Scotland for a copy of The Meifod Claw
I wanted a new coffee pot, which is an odd thing to want, considering the borderline human rights of having access to exactly the required coffee that is one’s requirement/human right/soul provider. My coffee went impotent way back in November. The seal had become condensed to the consistency of some gelatinous coffee fungus. Amazingly, and much against the assurance of a shop vendor, the seal that was going to replace the fungus… well, you understand the tone that I’m using. No coffee pot. Hello cafetiere. They always leave bits at the bottom of the cup. Anyway all I got was a request from The National Library of Wales (shout out to the locals!) for a copy of The Meifod Claw.
So that’s Christmas for you. You get what you need, plus socks. This coming Christmas I’m hoping to tick away a full weeks festive rental on a BMW M5 so I can check into the New Year with traction control disabled and all air bags fully deploying at the stroke of midnight. The new one is going to have four-wheel-drive. I hope you can turn that off.
Otherwise things are pretty quiet. The Brine in Me is still being assimilated into something bearable by my editor in Scotland. I wrote Whiskey instead of Whisky at one point during The Meifod Claw and she wasn’t impressed. That’s when I knew this was the editor for me. Whiskey is the Irish derivation by the way, not that I’m getting involved or anything.
It’s given me the chance to take a break for a little while. Except that it hasn’t. I’ve started hobby writing the third novel while people aren’t looking, as well as designing potential maps to set the whole circus in (she’s going to be a fantasy piece from both the barrels that will be going off). Actually I just created The Isle of Scrota and thought, job done, the rest is gonna write itself. If that doesn’t get me back to Oxford, it might get me my Hop Garden.
We’ll see. I’ll probably just have to get that garden ye olde style; by taking my Claw Trailer Plinth out, hitting the markets and hoping my pitch isn’t within irritation distance of the incense stall/beholder. Should you see me out and about this year at your local canvas, please do come on over because I’m going to be obliged to be feeling chatty; I’ll bring the bench and we’ll talk it out, then we can close the deal cash in hand and you can wander off with one or more of my novels, along with the lingering sensation that you have been wise. Hopefully I’ll be providing wisdom for cash all day long. If I don’t see you, or else you think that I look shifty, you can flirt with the cyber jockey’s over in this direction and check out some reviews.
I never worked at Mc Donald’s but I’m finally being judged by stars!
So there we go. It’s getting late at night this end, and I’m getting that stirring. I’m off to Scrota.
These old trees grow straight to heaven. …
JW Bowe xx
If you enjoyed this blog, and you’re impatient for something else to read, feel free to bunch up close to a free sample chapter from JW Bowe’s debut novel, The Meifod Claw, which is available now at Amazon, iTunes and on various other international eReaders.
You can also double up your sampling by following this link to the forthcoming fictional autobiography of The Meifod Claw’s wheelchair-in-chief, Derek Gainsborough. His life and apologies will be released next year under the sail of The Brine in Me.
JW Bowe can also be unearthed on YouTube and in various other ways through the Serious Biscuits homepage. Scroll down for further links, action and disclaimers.
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