Research for fiction, but faster

Once upon a time, I wanted to write a story that revolved around Genghis Khan. It was a crap idea, but I was young and didn’t know better. The trouble was that before I could write a word, I had to read loads of stuff about Genghis Khan. And by the time I was half way through the first book my enthusiasm had vaporised and the story never happened. I’ve since discovered another way to research vital elements of a story, a method that’s quick enough to keep my ideas alive.

Resarch your story by talking to experts

When possible, talk to experts to find out what you need to know. Books offer great overviews and in-depth information on any subject, but the knowledge you need may be buried within hundreds of pages of unnecessary stuff. By asking the right questions of the right expert, you can get straight to the information you need. You can also ask hypothetical questions about scenarios specific to your story, uncovering insights you can never find in a book.

As well as exposing you to new ideas and bespoke advice, consulting experts is real and vital – and it’s always a treat to meet new people working in different fields.

Cartoon County: Brighton’s own comics hub

Last night the Cartoon County group met in the Brighton’s Cricketers pub – and I went along to chat to other comics enthusiasts. As well as meeting the legendary David Lloyd, I got to chat to comics creators such as Joe Decie (check out his awesome web comic What I Drew), Karrie Fransman (creator of the beautiful graphic novel shown above: The House that Groaned) and loads of other people who make comics, study comics, and enthuse about comics!

The Cartoon County group was incredibly friendly and welcoming. It’s great that people in Brighton have a place to gather and meet likeminded folk.I’m already looking forward to the next one.

Preparing for the Dunwich Dynamo bike ride: what’s required?

So, you want to ride the Dunwich Dynamo? Good for you!

Once you’ve booked your ticket home from Dunwich, there are a few things to consider…

Food and drink

Fantastic halfway-point refreshments are available at Great Waldingfield, but remember that you’ve got to cycle about 60 miles first. How much will you need to eat and drink to take you 60 miles?

Remember too that you could puncture on your way to the rest stop. You could puncture, get lost or turn up to the village hall too late to get a sandwich. So aim for self-sufficiency – at least enough food to help you cope with a few surprises. Aim for variety too. Sugary energy gels and drinks are great, but you need to balance them out with something more substantial, something less sweet and something more food-like. Sugary things can leave you feeling queasy.

Food doesn’t have to consist of expensive sports-specific snacks. Try:

• malt loaf (Soreen is great!)
• fig rolls
• bananas
• cake
• sandwiches
• sweets
• pasta

Bike readiness

Your body is going to have enough to do on this ride, so don’t make it any harder by allowing your bike to needlessly fail. Get your bike serviced if it’s overdue a checkup, but otherwise check:

• gears
• brakes
• tyres
• nuts and bolts (including cleat screws!)

Lights

Some people do the DD with teeny LED lights that can barely illluminate a dusty cupboard, while others use super-bright mega-lights that turn night to day. What would you prefer? If you’re going to do a few night rides consider investing in proper night lights. I love cycling at night, especially when I can cycle faster, more safely with good lights.

Clothing

It’s hard to prepare for every eventuality. But whatever the weather, you’ll spend most of the DD exercising vigorously, so your first consideration is about dressing for exercise. Cycling shorts and jerseys make a good starting point, because they provide good physical comfort while you’re working hard.

Late in the night, when the temperature cools and the sun is long gone, you’ll probably want something to cover your arms and legs (although in 2010 the night was so mild that shorts and short sleeves suited many cyclists throughout the journey).

Flexible items like arm and leg warmers are perfect because you can easily adapt to changing conditions without being burdened by bulky clothing.

It may rain – indeed it could rain all night long, so be prepared to cycle through it. If bad weather is forecast you may want to include waterproof gear.

Weight

Remember that all your equipment and food adds to the weight you carry – so think twice before adding items to your pack. You want to be prepared, not overburdened.

The morning after

Depending on how quickly you ride, you could spend 4-8 hours on the beach at Dunwich, waiting for your ride home. That beach can be rather chilly, so pack a jumper or something to wear when you’re finished. I was also oddly grateful for the toothbrush and wrap of toothpaste I’d packed. And make sure you have cash to pay for a fry up from the Dunwich cafe!

Fast or slow?

There are two schools of thought:

1. The DD is a fun ride and a social event. It’s a slightly bonkers experience that takes you through the night on a magical tour of flat wilderness. The DD is to be savoured at your leisure.

2. The DD is a race! It’s fun and weird, but it’s a race! How quickly can you get there?

Most people view the DD as a fun ride – not one to rush. How will you ride the Dun Run?

Cycling the South Downs Way – how not to do it

I recently attempted the South Downs Way Randonnee – a mountain bike ride organised by the British Heart Foundation. It went rather badly. In the hope that you might learn from my failure, here is how and why I failed to complete the ride.

First failure

I think my first mistake was to start late. The first riders were leaving Winchester at 5:00 AM. I left at 6:45. Leaving earlier gives you a bigger window of daylight to complete the ride. Given that anything can happen out on the Downs, it’s wise to have the biggest window of opportunity possible.

To avoid my first failure: start any ride as soon as you possibly can.

Second failure

When I got a puncture after about 2 hours on the ride, I realised that carrying only one spare tube was a stupid idea. Having used my spare, I would have no way of dealing with a puncture. So I was probably one fifth of the way through the journey, with no puncture repair options.

To avoid my second failure: take plenty of spares. Is one tube enough?

Third failure

After repairing my puncture and having a minor fall, I noticed my cleat was a little bit loose. Not only had I failed to check that my clipless shoe cleats were tight before the ride, I wasn’t carrying any allen keys, so I had no way to tighten them mid-ride. By the time I found a cyclist with allen keys, one of the cleat bolts had sheared off, leaving me with a cleat that was only attached to my shoe at one point.

Then I discovered that I couldn’t remove my shoe from the pedal. So I was stuck to my right pedal. No problem, I thought, I’ll just keep on cycling until I find a rest stop!

This was a stupid idea because the South Downs Way was a mudbath, having been deluged with rain over the preceding week. So there were stretches of path that were uncycleable, and there were also plenty of gates and steps to clamber over. When faced with these, I had to unstrap my foot from my right shoe, and slip and slide my way through the mud with one shoe and one sock.

This was not the fun bike ride I had imagined.

To avoid my third failure: carry basic tools.

Fourth failure

Just when I thought having my shoe stuck to the pedal was fairly miserable, it came unstuck. I felt a moment of joy at having my shoe back, until I realised how little grip my cleatless shoe had on the pedal! So I had one good foot/pedal combo, the other was a free-floating ice-skating mess. While I could just about nudge the pedal with my cleatless shoe, I could not grip the pedal or use it for support or balance. So careering round the muddy bogs and steep hills of the Downs was additionally dangerous.

During all of this I was sustained by the belief that the first rest stop was manned by a mechanic, who I imagined sitting next to a box full of allen keys and cleat bolts. So I trundled on, slip-sliding my way cautiously along.

Sadly, it took me so much time to reach the rest stop that the mechanic had moved on to the next rest area. Hearing this, I was so deflated, so disappointed, so mud-covered, scratched and dejected that I realised I was beat. The next rest stop was 15 miles away. 15 miles of boggy, slimy, slidy Downs. And me, with only one pedal.

While I could have done it (perhaps), I was losing too much time. At the rate I was going I would never reach Devil’s Dyke (my destination) before dusk. So I abandoned the ride, and caught a train home.

To avoid my fourth failure: don’t rely on external support. Aim for complete self-sufficiency. If you hear yourself thinking, “I’m sure someone else will have one of those,” realise the risk and make your own plans.

Success?

Despite all the problems, I’m looking forward to trying it again next year. And finishing.

The struggle to be here now

I don’t really do resolutions. I’ve found that whenever my ambitions or intentions are pinned to some kind of temporary condition, such as the new year, they are more likely to fail. I think that, if you really want to achieve something, you shouldn’t need to wait until the start of a new year to make them happen. Of course, the beginning of a new year is a natural time to reflect… BUT I DIGRESS

I’ve been making long-term plans, and find myself dreaming of the future. The danger with making plans is that you can easily end up living in the future, feeling that your future is what you want, and your present is unacceptable or unimportant. And if you spend large chunks of your life dreaming about ‘tomorrow’ then you never get to enjoy today, and today is your life. So unless we remember to focus on today, and live in the moments, then we aren’t really living. A lifetime could pass without you ever being there.

So if I have any resolution at all, it’s to live for today, and to enjoy each day.

Learning to ride a road bike (long distances)

I’m a beginner. It’s fun to be a beginner. You can screw up and nobody cares. You can ask a million ‘stupid’ questions and it’s fine, because you aren’t supposed to know the answer yet.

I’m a beginner at road cycling. Last weekend I joined a cycling club for one of their weekly club rides. I learnt a few interesting things quite quickly:

• My saddle was too high.
• My handlebars need to be adjusted to prevent my arms from being locked out.
• Energy gels are okay but I need some real food to power me through a 50-mile ride.
• The water in my bottle should have some energy-carbohydrate-powder added to it.
• An Ordnance Survey map is essential.
• I should charge my Tesco VX1 Party Phone the day before the ride.
• Spare tubes are no good without a pump (I didn’t puncture BTW)

Giving up caffeine: the bastard caffeine withdrawal

For some reason that I can’t remember I decided to give up caffeine. I’d been gently reducing my caffeine intake for a while, thinking that regular cups of coffee and tea might be causing my nocturnal fidgets. But then I stopped completely, and experienced nine days of constant headache. A buzzing, rumbling cancer of a headache.

Drugs

Withdrawing from caffeine made me think (again) about society’s mixed-up thinking on drugs. Our society thinks it quite okay for nearly every adult human to be completely addicted to a powerful stimulant. A powerful stimulant that gives you a nine-day headache when you stop taking it. And when all of those wired adults want to wind down, our society advises a powerful depressant drug, drunk in great glassfuls. Have a few beers, a bottle of wine or some gin and let your brain melt into your knickers.

We can medicate our moods with stimulants and depressants of one kind, but not another. Addicts of one kind are called you and me, but addicts of another kind are called junkies and criminals. It’s just bloody odd.

Glorious Terrorism: The Joy of Bloody Violence

I am a terrorist sympathiser. Now let me back-track: I’m not really a terrorist sympathiser, because I don’t think that terrorists should kill people. And actually all I have is sympathy for people who are so frequently oppressed, abused and silenced that they can only seek solace in terror.

No people should kill people, whatever their ‘justification’. And no people should oppress another people, whatever their reason.

Terrorists are very angry people. Nobody decides to blow themselves up without a good bellyful of outrage to help them depress the detonator. So the funny thing about our War on Terror is that we try to solve the problem of very angry people by sending our angry people (the military) to deal with them. It’s really weird actually, because if someone was angry with me, or intent on hurting me, I would want to know why, and I would try to resolve any conflict with communication before I ever threw a punch.

So why do Western societies tackle terrorists with extreme violence, rather than with calm diplomacy? Why do we throw hate upon hate? Bombing people who are already oppressed, downtrodden and fired up for Jihad just breeds more terrorists, so why do we do it?

Glourious Terrorism

I watched Inglourious Basterds yesterday and was surprised at my delight when the fictional band of Allied soldiers began hunting Nazis. The good guys were going after the oppressor, the abusive, violent Nazi scum, and it was almost heart-warming to behold.

Inglourious Basterds leads you to sympathise with terrorists; the Basterds are undoubtedly terrorists: they explicitly choose to commit horrifically violent crimes; murders so bloody and wicked that the Nazis speak of them in awe, in terror.

Because the Nazis are so completely awful, it seems acceptable for the Basterds to murder and mutilate them. The viewer watching Inglourious Basterds can cheer on their crimes, knowing that, however wrong, the bad guy is getting his comeuppance. But I wonder if this is how some Muslims feel when an Islamic terrorist commits a murder.

Have we become, in the eyes of some people, no better than the Nazis?

Speaking to Terrorists

We have a rule that we must not speak to terrorists. We can bomb them, but we can’t speak to them. We fought the IRA, but after many years of fighting, nothing changed. So we spoke more, and eventually the fighting stopped.
One day, perhaps many years from now, after all the bombs have been dropped and the guns are out of bullets, we’ll chat about our differences, see how we can live together, and stop terrorising each other.

Exercise motivation: finding the motivation to go to the gym

Here are my tips* for getting yourself to go to the gym (or whatever form of exercise you prefer).

I’ve spent years struggling to do things – such as exercising or eating well or not smoking, so it was a revelation to discover that I could (occasionally) control myself!

Anyway, here’s what worked for me:

Power your will

1. Focus on the goal, not the process.

Some people drag themselves through gym classes, thinking about the act of exercising, but exercise is one of those things that demands one foot in the future. Don’t be here now; be tomorrow then. Think of tomorrow. Think how fine your body will feel after exercise. You’re tuning the machine. You’re letting your body’s engine roar, and tomorrow you’ll feel better. Today’s trip to the gym is much more than just a trip to the gym, it’s part of a  lifetime of well-being.

2. Stop telling yourself that you hate exercise.

Why do you hate exercise? Your body is designed to move. To restrict your body is the unnatural thing. Running like a human animal, engaged in a chase, the hunt, fleeing danger; that’s what we’re made for.

3. Just do

People who want to do something often make weak promises, saying things like:

“I’m planning on not drinking this week.”

“I’m aiming for two gym sessions this week.”

“I’m probably going to run today.”

Right. We can all see the intrinsic flaws in these statements. There’s no commitment. There’s a big escape route left in every promise.

So if you’re going to exercise, just say you’re going to exercise. And just do it. Decide to do something, and do exactly that thing. Don’t make vague deals with yourself; decide what you’re going to do and do exactly that.

Sticking to personal promises is addictive. Once you start doing it you’ll find it hard to stop. And once the momentum kicks in you’ll find it impossible to stop.

4. Savour the feelings afterwards.

Okay, so you’ve just done it: you’ve exercised. Good work. How do you feel? You probably feel tired, elated, relaxed, spent, exhausted. That’s good. You’ve wiped away your stress, given yourself a better chance of sleeping well and started something big. Think about tomorrow. Tomorrow you’ll feel better for having exercised today.

When you feel changes in your body, make sure you consciously connect them to your increased exercise. You know what you owe for these good feelings. Your mood is more balanced, your heart beat more tranquil, your complexion more sunny – you owe this to exercise. When you recognise and value the changes that exercise brings you, it becomes impossible to stop exercising because you know that if you stop, so too will the good feelings.

5. Correct your false beliefs.

People have some funny ideas about exercise. Make sure you don’t fall for any crazy ideas…

Exercise makes you tired. No; being unfit makes you tired; exercise gives you energy. If you’re tired, don’t have a nap, go for a run.  So when you’re feeling lethargic, run around the block.

Exercise is a punishment. No it isn’t. Being unable to play football with your teenage children is a punishment.

Exercise is the last thing you need after a hard day. Actually it’s the first thing you need. The last thing you need after a stressful day is a big glass of wine. If you want to reset your stress clock and set yourself up for a good night’s sleep and a happy outlook tomorrow, go to the gym.

6. Say nice things about yourself.

Never say things like:

“I’m not the sort of person who exercises.”

“I’m shit at sports.”

“I should be in the pub.”

You may feel a natural inclination to deprecate your achievements, but don’t. Don’t reduce the power of your improvements with false modesty.

7. Bottle your self-loathing.

By self-loathing I mean all the bad thoughts you have about yourself. The loathing, the resentment, the doubts, the fears. Every time you sigh at your reflection, every time you eat the cake you were supposed to avoid, every time you dream about being fitter and healthier, every time you notice a new wrinkle or roll, put that bad energy in a special place.

And when you’re struggling to persuade yourself to go to the gym, go to that special place, lift up the lid, poke in your nose and inhale deeply. That is why you’re doing it. This is why you are going to the gym right now.

In times of weakness, remind yourself of why this matters to you.

8. Write down and share your commitment

Write down exactly what you’re going to do: when, where and how you’re going to exercise. Now give this promise to a person that you admire. The best person to share it with is someone you want to impress, or someone who you would hate to disappoint. Explain your intentions and ask the recipient to ask you for regular progress reports.

This is a kind of self-entrapment, but if you really want to do something, what are you afraid of?

Related blog post: Writing things down to get things done

*I must point out that I am far from perfect. I eat too much cake, drink lots of beer, enjoy pop music and can be deeply sarcastic. This post is, in many ways, a reminder to myself to be used in times of weakness!

My Name is Asher Lev: a short book review

My Name is Asher Lev is a story about the battle between a deeply religious man and his artistic son.

The boy’s art is seen as pointless and silly. The boy is faithful, but he can’t deny his talent.

Time passes, and father and son grow slowly apart, with the mother caught between two people she loves.

The book culminates with the boy, now a young man, painting a crucifix. Now this painting of a crucifix is a big deal. Deeply Jewish people do not normally paint crucifixes, mainly because it’s the symbol of christians, and christians and Jews have a history of… urm, issues.

My Name is Asher Lev is a fantastic book, which I’m not doing justice to here, but the book troubled me in one respect, because it demands an appreciation of this blasphemy, the outrage of Asher’s painting of a crucifix. You have to get on board with their observant Jewish lifestyle, and get just how significant Asher’s painting is.

I was doing quite well, and was feeling moved by the story, but I would occasionally slip out of the story and feel puzzled beyond words that:

1. Some people fashion their hair into twirly curls because they think an entity they’ve never seen wants them to.
2. Some people worship a man who may have died on a cross many years ago because they believe he’s the son of a god.
3. The rival groups are so tortured over each other that to adopt the imagery of one cult by another (for a painting) is an intolerable ‘blasphemy’ that threatens to rip a family apart.
4. That people choose to shackle themselves to belief systems, even when they bring misery.

So yes, Asher Lev is a great book, but sometimes it was hard to understand the intensity of the situations, mainly because I don’t do faith – at least not faith in the supernatural.

1986 Raleigh Record Sprint – My new bike

I’ve been a keen cyclist ever since I was a child. I started with a little red BMX, then went on to a GT Interceptor that I thrashed around the neighbourhood on – skidding the tyres to ribbons and slipping across frozen rivers (this was somewhere in Kansas), until it was stolen from outside Truesdell Middle School. Bastards.

We moved from Wichita to Uckfield, England. I remained bike-less for a while, borrowing my friend’s mum’s Raleigh Lizard mountain bike (thanks Birgit!) for occasional outings. Then, I rediscovered BMX, first with an old chrome Torker that I struggled to fit a Gyro to, then with a GT Performer.

Eventually age and practicality got the better of me, and I bought a Giant Rock SE (mountain bike). And we had such fun! We rode to work, through Buxted Park, over hills and across Ashdown Forest. I bunny-hopped up curbs and flew over mud humps. I completed the London to Brighton on her, in a relatively fast time (considering I was on a mountain bike). Then some git nicked her from outside our flat on Third Avenue, Hove.

Again, I remained bike-less for a while. Then, my thoughtful in-laws gave me a shiny pink mountain bike for my 30th. Although the bike developed some catastrophic faults, it rekindled my interest in cycling.

So I scoured Gumtree and found a Mongoose Rockadile. And what fun we’ve had! Together we’ve explored the South Downs, whizzed through city traffic and travelled to countless meetings.  But all this city riding has made me yearn for more speed, less friction and something sleeker.

Update: some bastard stole the Mongoose.

The Raleigh Record Sprint

So I wanted a road/racing bike, but they’re not cheap. And having never ridden a racing bike, I was reluctant to spend £500 on something I might not like. So I scoured eBay, looking for a clean old racing bike.

It’s not easy to find a reasonably-priced classic racing bike at the moment, because there is a trend for converting these old bikes into fixed-wheel rides. So the prices are higher than they should be.

Anyway, eventually I found her: a 1986 Raleigh Record Sprint, in pristine condition. She’s spent most of the past 23 years in a loft, protected from decay by a coat of grease.

When I collected the bike, the original owner was clearly sad to see her go. He actually said, “bye bike,” and watched us walk up the stairs to the train platform.

Father and Son – a book recommendation

I’m reading Father and Son by Edmund Gosse, and want to recommend it to you.

Father and Son is an autobiography that records a boy’s upbringing in a puritanical household.

The father, Philip Gosse, was one of the blindly faithful, a sombre fellow who recorded his son’s birth with this emotionally-vacant entry in his journal:

E. delivered of a son. Received green swallow from Jamaica.

Rejecting Darwin

One of the most fascinating aspects of the book is that Philip Gosse was a prominent marine biologist, and was approached by Darwin and his supporters in search of support for their new theory.

Philip Gosse struggled to reconcile his fundamental faith in the Bible with Darwin’s theory of evolution, so he rejected it and wrote a book that expounded an alternative theory. He believed that his book, his ‘Omphalos’ would ‘bring all the turmoil of scientific speculation to a close’ and ‘fling geology into the arms of Scripture’. But:

…alas! atheists and Christians alike looked at it, and laughed, and threw it away.

Soup without noodles: betrayal, broken promises and Sainsbury’s

If you buy chicken noodle soup, you’re probably the sort of person who likes chicken and noodles in soup. More than that, you’re probably the sort of person who – without being unreasonable – would expect their chicken noodle soup to contain chicken and noodles.

I was recently very ill. On top of a severe bout of manflu I had a tickly cough and a slightly inflamed toe. Seeking comfort and convenience, I turned to soup. A tin of Sainsbury’s Chicken Noodle Soup seemed to provide all the answers to my health questions.

But I was to be disappointed. My “chicken noodle soup” contained microscopic fragments of chicken, but NO NOODLES!

Clearly, the rubicon has been crossed. No wonder the Guardian is offering tips to survive an apocalypse. What does society have left if even soup is telling lies? There are no standards. The Daily Mail is right: Britain is broken.

(Picture courtesy of Karmalize)

Monarchs – What are They Good For?

I’ve often wondered about the purpose of having a monarch, particularly when they don’t do anything and just cost lots of money. But, given the tourism value of our monarchy, I’ve always thought it was wise to let them be. They earn their keep, even if they are an embarrassing anachronism.

Today I read that Prince Harry has been filmed using racist language, and I wonder why we persist with an institution that is essentially a bizarre family, running rampant, funded by taxpayers who increasingly can’t afford it.

So here’s a little debate on the monarchy.

For:

Tourists love the British royal family (allegedly). Tourism is good for the economy; ergo, royal family is good for Britain. (In reality, only one royal residence makes the top 20 list of tourist attractions [according to Republic] and the town of Windsor’s favourite attraction is Legoland, not Windsor Castle.)

Against:

The royal family cost £150m £40m a year – money that could pay for a 8792 a few new nurses or 15 half a schools.

Our monarch serves no real purpose, other than to attract tourists, a job she’s not very good at.

The royal family are frequently the source of international embarrassment. Whether it’s Diana’s jet-set philandering, Harry’s racist remarks, Charles’ chatting to plants, Fergie being herself or Prince Philip’s racist remarks, the royals don’t improve Britain’s reputation.

The royal family are an anachronism. We didn’t stick to beheading just because it was traditional.

Summary

It’s time to sack the royal family.

(Picture of the Royle Family courtesy of the Guardian)

The Guillotines – A rather rampant racket

Have you heard The Guillotines?

An old friend of mine is in this band. If you like music that’s out of control, with shivering saxophones and wailing guitars, I politely suggest that you listen to them.

(Picture courtesy of D Casey)

My oh my oh myoclonic jerks

Mother Tongue: The English Language by Bill Bryson is full of wonderful facts. I recommend it. And I must thank Bill for doing me a huge favour: he’s given me the words to describe an affliction that I’ve struggled with for years: this wicked, involuntary jerking in bed at night- hang on, that doesn’t sound quite right… when falling asleep I often have a kind of giant bodily spasm- no, no, not like that. It’s like a big flinch. Like waking up by falling out of bed. You know what I mean.

Anyway, this phenomenon is known as a myoclonic jerk. I get myoclonic jerks. Do you?

(Cute puppy picture courtesy of Yukari*)