Cymru/Wales: Bipolar Nation

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Saturday 28 September 2019

Writing as Vanity Project


Now before you all shout 'Humbug' in a Johnsonian fashion I will put before this court the proposal that writing is like politics. We are only in it for the ego and the vanity. 

Granted writers will never be paid as much as politicians but we have the same motivational factors in our make-up. We want to be seen and heard and we want our name up there in lights. They say that writing is showbiz for introverts. 

Your writing and its furtherance and success can be controlled by yourself to a large extent. You can go the conventional publishing house route, submit your manuscript, receive a little advance, work with editors and Stanley's your father. Nice cover, nice blurb, nice price bish bash bosh but unless thousands upon thousands walk into Waterstones or go clickety click on Amazon then you are never going to make as much money as the politicians but you will make more than the Indy Writer & Self Publisher who goes out there with nowt more than self belief.

Many of us keyboard warriors want to get the work out there but how much time do we ascribe to the reader for they are our bread and butter? Do we care what they think? Yes we certainly do. Many a writer has had to invest in new underwear after reading Amazon Reviews of their work. Think Trip Advisor but with more malice. 

To be as successful as the politicos that we wish to emulate we have to do what they do and go out and press the flesh. Instead of kissing babies we have to kiss the arse of publishers and literary agents with a glass of shiraz in one hand and a mouldy vol au vent in the other. It's a good thing that I don't drink because I do not kiss arse (there was that one time in Amsterdam though..) Very rarely do I smile now and this can be quite off putting when you are at a writers' convention with a slim self published novella in your hand. People don't know whether I am going to hit them over the head with it or hand it to them.

When I came out of prison a friend that I had known for 18 years said "I can't read you anymore" and I thought that was a very telling remark because it was obvious that prior to my incarceration that my facial expressions were being read but that now days and nights in a cell had turned me into 'Dai Inscrutable'. I mention this because the story of my incarceration became a blog and then became a book with a  self proclaimed 'mental health publisher'
Another more recent friend, post incarceration read the book and said "It sure could have done with editing" and you would have thought that that onerous task would be the publishers.

I like writing but I don't like editing. We edit because we are thinking more about the reader and less about ourselves. Less of our vanity is invested in editing. 

It's choc full when writing though. We are like the new MP in the House of Commons when we are writing, we are running up to the Speaker like a week old puppy and twirling Black Rod's rod like a cheer leader's baton when we are actually writing, when we have sat down and have stopped the prevaricating, the procrastinating and the social media. Although an endomorph like Johnson I like to sprint in my writing, I like to get it all out there like vomit on a porcelain toilet and then editing is like pulling out the sheets of 'Juan Sheet Plenty' and wiping up around the basin carefully. Novel Writing suits those with staying power, those with patience, those who enjoyed the cross country run at school and who didn't cheat and mitch off half way. The short story and the novella are for the sprinters, for those who can lash it over a 100 metres.    

The phrase we love to hate "At the end of the day" we want somebody to take a punt on us and say "Eeeh lad you've got summat ere, tha's got a tasty turn of phrase there. I think we can turn you into a politician, I mean writer. Do you have a hide like a rhino? Are you willing to do the book signings and the writers' conventions? Could you possibly try and smile?"    


Wednesday 25 September 2019

Friends on the Slide

Friends on the Slide

(a poem of sorts)




It’s funny
I used to make friends out of desperation
moulded like clay in order to support my inferiority.
Oh, they got paid in beer and bad jokes
And I was fiercely loyal to them when younger
which is more than can be said about them to me,
but I must have been very trying.
Loyalty to Yourself
is the noblest cause,
that some interpret as selfish.
You might be correct but look at you in the gutter
“Can I have the shirt off your back?”
Big hearts lead to Bad hearts.
A cynic is a frustrated idealist
I wish it were different
We need more Jesus Christs
females would be good,
living lives of austerity and penance
a critical mass
they need to be organised
just not outside Job Centres
where security guards hold
skipping ropes
for you to jump over.

Thursday 19 September 2019

Talk like a Pirate Day

"ARRRRRR SHIVER ME TIMBERS, PIECES OF EIGHT, YO HO HO AND A BOTTLE OF RUM"



"You wouldn't expect somebody with shark fishing in the title of their blog to let 'Talk Like a Pirate Day' pass un-commented upon would ye? Arrrrrr" There is something rather wonderful about the West Country Burr and by the West Country I mean Bristol and Portishead and not Cardigan and Llangrannog. With apologies to the Rhyl Popular Front for that one. 

I have just finished reading Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson so I am Long John Silver's age reading it rather than Jim Hawkins's age when I assume most people do read it and I wouldn't have read it had I not come across a copy in the attic of my recently deceased Aunty. Finding it was like finding Treasure as it is a 1949 Puffin paperback copy first published by them in 1946. The book itself first saw the light of day in 1883. Her house not dissimilar to the Admiral Benbow Inn and a house that she had lived in since this copies publication.  
I wont attempt a book review but will offer you some observations on the tale and perhaps bring it up to date a bit.

If Treasure Island was written today the Hispaniola would have to be called 'The Gammon' cos we can't have none of them thar foreign sounding names as one of our fleet. Nigel Farage would be the buffoon Squire Trelawney, Captain Smollett would be Jeremy Hunt who is to see his plans confounded by Long John Johnson who is attempting despite the best attempts of Labour Activists in East End Hospitals to turn Great Britain into Treasure Island. He is doomed to failure but like Silver in the original book he limps on to fight another day. Jim Hawkins is all of us or rather the 48% in the Apple Barrel, the 52% up on deck are the Leavers destined to scuttle the 'Gammon' by fair means or fowl.

Every time they come below deck for another apple, the hole in the side gets bigger and bigger.
I personally identify as Ben Gunn below, the constantly startled and amazed castaway who realizes that he has been sharing the same island with the wrong people all along. When this lot arrive on 'Not Treasure Island' he'll want to 'remain' rather than be saved and taken back to Blighty. We cannot set sail without mentioning the hero of the tale Dr Livesey aka Jeremy Corbyn. He will look after all the Jim Hawkins's of this land whether we find the Treasure or not.  

I could wax lyrical but I wont because I will bore myself and that is what a writer must never do. What I particularly like about Treasure Island is that death is all encompassing, is all around. Three deaths in the opening five chapters. Death was expected and death was even welcomed in such a tough and austere age. The Old Sea Dog Captain Bill, Jim Hawkins' Father and the Visually impaired Captain Flint run over by the Horses of the Department of Work and Pensions. We live in an age that fears death, that sanitizes death and even offers Pre Plan Funeral Arrangements so that you don't have to think about it when it happens.

The writer himself, Robert Louis Stevenson, died at the age of 44 on his own Treasure Island of Vailima, Samoa. His occupation had been novelist, poet and travel writer. Now that is a life worth aspiring to. 

Friday 13 September 2019

Freedom from Self-Doubt | B.J. Davis | TEDxSacramentoSalon

Gyrfa dros alwedigaeth





Diddorol i mi oedd gweld dau o ddoethuriaid Blaid Cymru yn mynd ati ar lawr tudalen llythyrau'r 'swper soaraway' Cylchgrawn Golwg. Dr Dewi Evans a Cynog Dafis yn dadlau dros rinweddau Neil McEvoy a'i chefnogwyr yn Orllewin Caerdydd. Cynog yn cyhuddo y gangen o entryism a Dr Dewi Evans yn chwyrn ei farn yn erbyn y cyhuddiad yma. Ar dyn bach sydd yn eistedd ar ben ei orsedd sydd yn ofni cael ei ddisodli gan Dr Dewi Evans fel Cadeirydd y Blaid bach, Alun Ffred Jones. Diddorol i mi oherwydd mae gen i gysylltiad pell gyda'r pedwar dyn yma, o bell bell wrth cwrs. Yn gyntaf mi wariais wythnos o wyliau yn 1991 yn canfasio dros Dr Dewi Evans yn Isetholiad Castell Nedd pan safodd yn erbyn yr Arglwydd Peter Hain erbyn hyn. Profiad bythgofiadwy oherwydd ymateb trigolion y dre. Sefyll wrth groesfan a gyrrwr lori yn gweiddi mas o'i cab "What yew selling by there wuss?" "Plaid Cymru weiddais yn nol yn llawen, yn llawn brwdfrydedd dros yr achos. "Bloody Rubbish" roedd ei ymateb o gyn rhoi'r troed ar y sbardun pan ddangosodd y dyn bach coch. Cymysg iawn oedd yr ymateb gan drigolion y dref ond yn amlwg iawn, oedd ymgeisydd y Blaid, Dr Dewi Evans yn uchel iawn ei barch yn lleol. Blwyddyn wedyn a finnau wedi gadael gwaith a mynd i goleg fel myfyriwr hyn a gang ohonon ni yn dreifio fyny i Geredigion i ganfasio dros Cynog Dafis. Dipyn bach mwy o lwyddiant i'r ymgeisydd y tro hyn ag yntau mewn clymblaid gyda'r Gwyrddion. Posteri Day Glo Gwyrdd ag hetiau smurff arnynt. Rhywbryd cyn y ddau etholiad yma dwi'n cofio mynd i fyny i Gaernarfon a chael fy nghyfweld gan Alun Ffred Jones am swydd dan hyfforddiant gyda Chwmni Hyfforddi Cyfle. Y gobaith wedyn oedd mynd ymlaen i gael gyrfa yn y byd teledu. Minnau wedi dreifio'r holl ffordd o Gaerdydd am yr ymweliad ag yntau yn gofyn i mi ble oedd 'Fideo Cyflwyno fi'."Beth sydd gyda chi i ddangos i ni?" "Dim" atebais yn nol, "welais ddim byd yn y llenyddiaeth anfonwyd i mi am hynny". Felli roeddwn mewn a mas o fewn pum munud ar ôl y daith hir o'r de. Teimlais gywilydd ag mi roeddwn ers hynny ddim yn ffan fwyaf o'r dyn diysgog barfog yma. Doeddwn ddim wedi dangos digon o mentergarwch yn amlwg ond mae hyny bendant ddim yn gyhuddiad allech taflu at Neil McEvoy.  Un waith dwi wedi cwrdd a Neil McEvoy ag hwnna yn tÅ· yn Glanyrafon ar ôl i yntai adael y Blaid Lafur a newydd ymuno gyda Blaid Cymru.

Mi roedd fy nghysylltiadau gyda'r Blaid yn pylu fel i mi heneiddio ar ôl fod yn Cadeirydd, Trysorydd ag yn ymgeisydd i fynd ar Cyngor Caerdydd yn Ne Caerdydd a Phenarth. Ar ol gweithio a byw yn Llundain a sojourn fach yn Amsterdam mi ddes i nôl i Gymru gyda golwg byd gwahanol ar bethau. Yn wir erbyn hyn mi allaf ddisgrifio fy hun yn 'Corbynista' ail anedig. Dwi ddim yn Llafurir ag dwi bendant ddim yn credu yn y Blaid Lafur Cymraeg ond mae 'na rywbeth urddasol am yr hen Jeremy yn debyg iawn i Gwynfor Evans ers llawer dydd. Mae'r ddau ddyn yn Heddychwyr ei gwedd.

Drist fod y chwyddwydr ar Blaid Gymru yn y fath ffordd ond eto efallai fydd hwn yn broses fydd yn y pen draw yn cryfhau'r Blaid. Y broblem ydy'r 'Personoliaethau' yma, yr egos sydd wedi mynd yn rhemp ym Mhae Caerdydd. Dwi'n siŵr fod neb heb ei fai yn yr holl fusnes yma ond gobeithio taw Cymru fydd yn cael ei gofio cyn hunan diddordebau y wahanol carfannau yma.  

Mae'r Blaid wedi bod yn rhy barod i amddiffyn y rheina o fewn ei mysg sydd gyda diddordebau hunanol, Yr Arglwydd Elis Thomas yn esiampl dda o hyn a chofiaf ar ol i un Pwyllgor Gwaith y Blaid yn Aberystwyth cael ein cynghori gan neb llai na Cynog Dafis i ostwng y pwysau ar Dafydd El o ochrau'r 'Ffed' a'r 'Mudiad Ieuenctid' oherwydd bod y ddarpar Arglwydd newydd gael ysgariad ag roedd "y dyrchafiad yma yn mynd i dalu am hwnna". Mi fydd henaduriaid y Blaid yn ysgwyd ei phennau ar ol darllen y fath bethau oherwydd mae 'na rhai yn meddwl fod ymosodiad ar y Blaid yn ymosodiad arnyn nhw ag ar Gymru ond mi ddes i sylweddoli digon cloi fod 'Rhagrith' yn perthyn i'r Blaid fach cymaint ag i bob plaid arall.

Yn sgrifennu o'r tu allan fel blogiwr o fri mi faswn yn hoffi gweld Dr Dewi Evans yn cymryd y Gadeiryddiaeth i fwrdd o Alun Ffred am fwy na rhesymau dialedd am gywilydd. Hoffwn ei weld yn cymryd yr awenau oherwydd mae yna ormod o unigolion a'i diddordebau ei hunan yn amlycach nag achos annibyniaeth i Gymru. Pan mae Gwleidyddiaeth yn troi'n gyrfa dros alwedigaeth, mae'n amser hel dy bac.    


Darllener Ymhellach

Tuesday 3 September 2019

Take your Pick


KEN FRANE


LAST OF THE CARDIFF DOCKS' DETECTIVES

Short Story Adventures
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Fruity old fruit bats

  Hello my fruity old fruit bats! That is a term of endearment by the way. I thought I would treat you to a piece of prose rather than the b...

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Hitler navigates the A487 from Aberaeron to Aberystwyth

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David's books

How To Be Idle
Second Sight
Freud: The Key Ideas
The Yellow World
Intimacy: Trusting Oneself and the Other
Going Mad?: Understanding Mental Illness
Back To Sanity: Healing the Madness of Our Minds
Ham on Rye
Electroboy: A Memoir of Mania
Memories, Dreams, Reflections
Mavericks
Murder in Amsterdam: The Death of Theo van Gogh and the Limits of Tolerance
On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft
I Bought a Mountain
Hovel in the Hills: An Account of the Simple Life
Ring of Bright Water
The Thirty-Nine Steps
A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose
The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment
The Seat of the Soul


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