It's 3 AM--Oh. How'd you guess?
The rain, which has politely held off for a glorious sunny weekend so far, is now absolutely bucketing it down outside. The humidity is ridiculous.
I was awakened by congestion in my lungs at some disgusting hour, but am too hot, sticky, and uncomfortable to go back to bed. Under such circs I might normally blog until I felt like sleeping again, then go and crash on the fold-out settee in the living room.
Unfortunately, the SO's cousin got married yesterday, so the couch is occupied by the SO's mother. I doubt she'd appreciate me flaking out alongside her.
So here we are, O Avid Fan.
I also find I really want to tell you about this. I think it'll be absolutely huge. I have, myself, several rough bits of books lying about, and one unpublished novel (with good reason unpublished but nonetheless a novel). Perhaps this is what I've been searching for.
Basically, you post a book online. People can download it for a price. 80% of the price is yours, and 20% goes to Lulu--brainchild of Bob Young of Redhat fame.
So go dig out that shoebox and dust off your epic. Your hour has come round at last.
My current tune (the one running through my head and headphones) is "Still Life" by the magical, mischevious David Wilcox (the Canadian one). Check out the sample tune "Rockin' the Boogie" here.
Stony Plain Records is also the label of the late, great John William Baldry, known to Britophiles and blues fans as Long John. Let us pause to reflect on the person who gave us Rod Stewart, Elton John and Eric Clapton, not to mention four of the Rolling Stones. And the wonderfully funny policeman of "Don't Try to Lay No Boogie-Woogie on the King of Rock 'n' Roll".
The written version can't do a Mr. Plod accent:
"As Oi was procee-eedin' in a Southerly direction, Milord, Oi 'eard strange sounds coming from Wardour Place, Milord. A sort of boojie-woojie music was bein' played."
"Ah, just one moment, officer; well, what is this boojie woojie music we're talking about?"
"Oh, well, milord," said the officer, getting out his notebook--he'd obviously
Been doing up his homework: "It's a kind of jazz-rhythm music. Peculiar to the American Negro".
Thanks, Long John, and so long for now.