From a Chair in the Sky

 All right you little chicken teriyaki six inch subs with extra chilies - how's it all going?

I'm currently writing this in a chair in the sky. 

Which is, you know. Neat.

Perhaps you're aware this isn't exactly my favourite method of travel. 

I have something of a routine these days while flying:

IF not sober THEN everything will be fine. 

IF sober (and given that it's 7 in the fucking morning, I certainly am) THEN grab the seat during takeoff and squirm about in your chair as though that makes any difference to anything whatsoever, meanwhile probably freaking out surrounding passengers. 

IF surrounding passengers ask about the squirming THEN claim it's some form of impromptu dance you like to do during aviation maneuvers and everything is just fine.

Still, here a bunch of us are in the sky, 37,000 feet up. It's pretty odd when you think about it really, no? 

I had planned to take the month off writing new book stuff because the last book sort of did me in proper. And the time off it was coming along fine. However, as these things often go, you're perfectly innocently having a wee, minding your own business, quietly remarking to yourself what a treat it is to be able to stand up and urinate at the same time, when suddenly an idea barges into your brain. And you feel like it's a half-decent one. And you know that if you ignore it, it'll die, left out there in the scorching heat of the Forgotten Book Ideas Desert. 

I'm fleshing the thing out already. So if you're curious, an entirely new book is coming vaguely soon to an internet near you. I'll keep you updated.

My plan for the next few days is to attempt to record The Fifth Science and The Prince of Milk as audiobooks, working at the speed of a Relatavistic Motherfucker. I believe the cover for the hard copy of The Fifth Science is finished also, so that'll be out as a paperback shortly, all things being well. 

I've gotten lucky with a lot of good finds on Netflix and movies and the book world recently. Here's some stuff I liked that I reckon you'll like too:

Maniac: A series on Netflix that I believe has just appeared. I'm halfway through and it's certainly unique. It's written partly by one of the guys behind The Leftovers, which I fucking adored, and the plotting and madness is just as good in Maniac. I don't think I could spoil the story for you even if I was trying, since it's complete madness. Just check it out. I was particularly fond of the dynamic between Dr. Fujita and Justin Theroux's character, whatever the hell he's called. (Don't forget to look it up later when you land back home. ((Don't leave this in, it'll look really unprofessional. (((Dye the cat ultra-violet when you get home.))))

Solo: Another Fucking Star Wars Story: I was a huge Star Wars fan as a kid. Still am, the old stuff anyway. I watched Solo last week, expecting it to be shit for some reason. It wasn't. I'm not saying it's a Shakespearian epic, but it's worth checking out.

Everyday Drinking by Kingsley Amis: You know when you pick up a book at random and it turns out to be an unexpected gem? Yeah. This. 

It's pretending to be a guide for making cocktails, but I'd argue it's really Brit humour at its best. I like to go and read by the National Theatre in Sofia when I have the time. I tried it once with this book, then gave up. I was laughing too hard and looked completely out of my fucking mind. Finished it at home instead.

It'll give no-nonsense instructions on how to make a Vodka Collins, squash a hangover, and even avoid existential dread. 

Zen in the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury: I've been travelling a touch. This book was my friend the whole time. I've recommended it before, but I come back to it every few years when I feel like I'm creatively dry. For all of its cleverness, one piece of advice shines through the thing again and again: Write from the heart, write from the heart, write from the heart...

A little confession on my part then. For a while now I've wanted to put out a video on...well...how to make writing easier, tricks I’ve picked up. The problem is that the world is full of hacks telling you HOW TO WRITE when you'll notice they haven't got a damn thing in print themselves. I'm no better. I wouldn't trust a surgeon to operate just because he can open a beer with a Swiss Army knife. Likewise, you already tolerate the stuff I put out. It'd be insult to injury to let me tell you how it's made.

However. Coming up with ideas for you lot has been my full-time job for over 2 years now and I've noticed some techniques work better than others. I've also spent a fair bit of time thinking about what the creative process even fucking is, and how to try and subdue the thing and teach it to dance, as much as one can. I'd just like to tell you how I go about writing, in the hope it gives you some ideas if you find yourself in a writing pinch. That's all. Nothing more grandiose. If that sounds up your street, let me know. 

Where was I. Oh yes. Stuff that's good:

Siddhartha by Herman Hesse. Fuck me, another gem that I expected nothing from, and it gave everything. Again, I reread it every few years and notice new beauty on each occasion. If you're even remotely confused about what the hell is going on with your life, or just generally looking for some humany answers about our condition on this planet, check it out. 

Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari (if I did his name right from memory, I will be buying myself M&Ms at the nearest opportunity upon landing. ((Fuck yeah, I did. Good job, Past You.))

And finally: Hearthstone. A friend introduced me to it recently. I don't game much. Excuse me, I *didn't* game much. But those bastards at Blizzard have worked out how to hijack the brain's reward centres with imperious accuracy. Check it out at your own peril. (Mage all the way, bby.) 

Grand. 

Well. There it is. I have tea, an aisle seat, and the entirety of Europe doing its thing below. I've only soiled myself a mere 32 times during this flight; a record low. And on that note, may I just say: thanks. 

YouTube revenue at this point would not be enough to live on and still buy the stuff I need to produce content. It just wouldn't. The fact that you lot are propping up my bullshit means I can go off and take silly creative risks, without necessarily having to worry if it'll be appealing or mainstream enough. I appreciate I only put out 1 video a month these days, and perhaps you think I'm sat on my arse for most of that time. I most certainly am not. It's a full time job, or has turned into one anyway. I don't want to make rubbish, and for every video you see recently, about 4 or so scripts go in the bin. I don't say that to boast - I can't stand the dickheads who do that. I'm just saying that this kind of artistic snowflake behaviour would be impossible without your support. And I hope it results in better stuff.

Look. Just thanks, really. My bullshit would be impossible without you. And much love. 

Well, on behalf of myself, the stratosphere, and about 150 of us currently in the sky right now, I hope shit's going well on your side. If I may, I would quietly suggest you take one silly creative risk with your work this week. I did, and I think it might turn into a new book. 

All the best as ever, and again - thank you for being so lovely, 

Ex.