Life has been so crazy the past few months, that I'd taken a sort-of sabbatical from my columns for WriteMovies and Got Poetry. No more, both are back. Hope you enjoy!

On GotPoetry: Lost in Worcester: As we gear up for NPS in Albuquerque, a few last thoughts on iWPS

On WriteMovies: What I Learned From Punk Rock: The dark side of the good old days

Victor, that punk memoir - yepyepyep. We really need to spend about nine hours hanging out and swapping some of these stories. Ah, the Clash in South London in 1979, with about ten other bands, playing the free, huge Rock Against Racism shows, to nail the National Front...

Oh, yeah. That's a show I wish I'd have seen. I think I need to get back to SF for a spell, and this time not be on a whirlwind tour.

I think I need to get back to SF for a spell, and this time not be on a whirlwind tour.

Seconded.

What Perkins Said.

And Perkins, insending shortly.

One of my least favourite cliches.

If Wishes Were Horses...

Letter to a ghost:

Are you bored yet? Bored with my dislocation, my endless groping for one bright strand of memory in yesterday's mists, my bottomless grinding need for clarity and resolution?

You are? All right, my darling. Then grant me a wish.

Give me back just one day. I swear I'd fit it all in: I would tell you I loved you, and prove it. I would take you back to bed with no apologies, with all the joy I possess. I would make you tell me why I shouldn't leave you.

Are you bored with the beggar, riding?

Ooof. deb.

Yeah. "Ooof" pretty much sums it up.

deb! I sent out my first batch of query letters today.

Nervous and excited and hopeful and realistic am I, all at the same time.

Allyson, you rock like a mad thing, you know that?

Let the games begin! And now we sit back, and see what comes of round one....