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It's been a while since I've written here.  I've been doing work away from my writer's desk (hey, I have to eat).  That work is as a community carer, mainly for the elderly.  Very rewarding, but I'm waiting for the day I can say I'm a famous writer.  I've had alot of hours this week, but I've been making sure I'm getting some writing in.  I'm almost on the final chapter of my third novel, so it's all very, very thrilling (well, to me, anyway).  Then the fun starts: editing the thing.  I'm still trying to get copies of my other two novels sold.  'Calumny while reading Irvine Welsh' is adult satire (come on, I'm trying to be intellectual here; using the name of a prolific Scottish author in my book title), and 'Abernethy' is young adult.  'Abernethy' is about a fourteen year old boy who meets a beagle who can communicate with him.  The dog used to be a witch's familiar, hence the power of speech.  There's no witchcraft in the book.  I just needed a feasible excuse for the dog to speak.  They're available through Zeus Publications, at http://www.zeus-publications.com.  Of course they can be obtained through all good bookstores.  Hell, even a few crap book stores as well.  But if you go online, you can read the blurb and first chapters.

 

When not writing, I read and listen to music.  If there's one thing I detest, it's a crap remake of what was once a good song.  Someone brought to my attention a beauty (in the sarcastic sense) the other day.  It's a remake of 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart'.  Most people probably know the sweet, goofy, aw-shucks original.  This remake came direct from Satan's recording studio.  I won't say who sang (hah!) it, although Google and You Tube will help you solve the mystery.  There is a reason rappers don't sing; particularly in this instance.  The reason is because THIS DUDE DIDN'T HAVE A NOTE IN HIS HEAD!  The female half of the duo sounded like she had a throatful of phlegm.  At one stage, the guy sounded like he was calling the hogs, or giving out the mating call of a large, horned beast.  Seriously, I'm surprised an elk or a moose or a buffalo didn't escape from the zoo and crash the studio, annihilate the engineer's desk and force its way into the booth, and commence to roger the guts out of the both of them.  I'm sure the sounds then would have been preferable to the ear-screwing remake of what was once an enjoyable song.  No, you guys didn't go breaking my heart, but you sure did a fine and jim-dandy job of massacring my ear drums.  I'm warning you, gentle reader, don't listen to this song.  I can't sing a note, either, but at least I don't go inflicting my godawful singing on other people.

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