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Body crash

¦ dialling in from the Sky Bunker ¦

11:22 am, Sunday morning. Intermittent sunshine and thick clouds overhead. My brain is a mess. Some kind of summer flu, or just a symptom of exhaustion? Been up since 6.30... necking mugs of tea on the sofa, watching News 24, wishing I could spend the day there but my mind won't let me relax... I've just spent 45 minutes listening to a BBC3 radio production on H.P.Lovecraft; Ciaran pointed out the link and Hagen copied it onto CD for me. It was great hearing Lovecraft being discussed with such sincerity, with appreciation of his real value within American literary history...and, I suppose, English reading audiences. It was also kind of odd hearing well-educated British voices discussing the "Cthulhu Mythos". Does this mean that Lovecraft might enter mainstream consciousness? He's always been an influence... but rarely a visible power. Will my own spin of weaving within the Cthulhu Mythos be accepted....?

I managed to spend most of yesterday away from everything that has absorbed my life the past few months. I sat in a cafe in beams of sunlight, reading one of my old Iain M. Banks novels... I closed my eyes and switched off my brain... I walked to the Cathedral and remembered dad, lighting a candle and sitting for a while thinking about him...I can still vividly recollect him in my minds-eye, the very last moment I saw him, smiling at me from the hospital bed as I grinned back at him.

Being in town, I had a proof copy of God Seed in my bag; I didn't need it anymore so I wrote a small message in the front "Dear Reader...",  scribbed in the ISBN number, and then handed it over to one of the random book sellers that set up stall outside the Watershed. I wonder, if I will ever hear about it again.

I've just selected the soundtrack to The Mothman Prophecies...it's sombre, easy listening and suits my state of mind. I've got a funny feeling I'm going to end up spending the whole day sitting here again.

08:09am, Monday morning. Within seconds of writing the last sentence I got a phone call from somebody I've not seen in years: Mick T. He was in the area, "shall I pop round?"  Hell Yes, I Said. It was great to see him and I noticed how energised I became having human company. Maybe part of my exhaustion is a symptom of isolation? Up here in the Sky Bunker day after day? Not long after Mick left, Nice Guy Tony came round...and stayed for about 5 hours. It was lovely to just sit with the guy and talk, nothing else to do, just talk... by time he left my flu was kicking into full affect, strange gungy fluids oozing from my sinuses and an increasing throbbing ache in the back of my head and all my joints. Jo returned with Sarah, her twin, and we snuggled up on the sofa watching CSI, then Vanished, I necked flu pills and red wine and sank into numb oblivion. Woke up this morning with my hand wedged between Jo, and Sarah's buttock...so I quoted the John Candy/Steve Martin scene from Planes Trains... Laughs all round. Feeling a lot better today. More publicity work on God Seed then work on preparing for the Yellow Dawn launch.

I'm catching a flight to Newcastle tonight...then a whole week of being in the Jesus Mound bubble world. Kitsch'n cafe on Acorn Road and long walks through the Dene. Mike, St John,  Richy, Ciaran, Pete. Mum, Norweigan card games and home cooking. Fantastic.

Djr