Jackson went to meet Emily in Japan, ‘cos she can’t get into England and it’s tough for him to fly to western China. Anyhow, they sent me this photo of a cafe in Tokyo called Jazz Union. Seats 9 customers.
Lucas designed a few covers for my Christmas anthology and I like the one below best – it’s uncluttered but festive.
It’ll be on free download soon, date tbc.
Coincidentally, I was at the hospital tonight, visiting, and at the door of the ICU ward there was a little poster on the wall with a poem about washing your hands before going in. And at the bottom of the poster was the name of the girl who’d written the poem – the same name as a person who features in one of the stories in Comfort & Joy.
I don’t know if it is the same person, common sense says no, but maybe. Anyhow, I thought, should I ask? It’d be lovely to see her after all this time.
Free of work for the moment* I find myself instead busy with family issues. However, the writing continues to flow: I have Dealer Number 1 waiting for a final redraft, then it’s out there. QE just needs a 50 page completion before the redrafts begin. In the meantime I’ve begun something much lighter and sweeter called 7 Dates. And my Christmas collection, Comfort & Joy will be on free download for a week, sometime next month.
In the midst of all this I’m allowing myself a timely crisis of faith
*I will have to get some work soon, just to pay the rent.
I was walking through town today and saw three pipers dressed in full highland regalia – kilts, sashes, bearskins, the lot, and as usual I was taken by the sound of skirling lament.
But then I thought of Ian, my cousin, a red-haired Glaswegian ex-Marine with three tours of Ulster under his belt. He’s a lovely bloke but he’s frightening. Not particularly tall or well-built or anything, as emotional and ready to cry as they come, and he’s not a kid anymore either, but in a fight he’s just insane.
I had trouble making a link between the pipers in their formalised ‘highland’ wear and my cuz, Ian, who’s a sort of urban berserker.
History and tradition lead us along a certain path. But life follows other routes entirely.