The beginning of 2014 seems like a different year. Time is fragmented. Broken. You know when you drop your diary and all the dates get mixed up because your diary is possessed by a mischievous poltergeist that can manipulate text? That.
When I took on the co-running of Bad Language, Manchester's live literature night, I expected it would be a bit like being hit by a train. I was wrong. It was like being approached from behind by a scaly time-stealing monster and mauled to death. In a good way. I've tried to replicate this experience in picture form (above).
So far, I have hosted two Bad Languages, with authors Stephen May and Luke Brown headlining. If you want to see me shake my stuff, then come along to the Portico on Thursday May 15th for a very special night of readings. We'll have Rosie Garland, Jo Bell, Rodge Glass and Marli Roode. The next regular Bad Language will be on May 28th. Thank pants I'm not doing this on my own - Joe Daly should take at least 54.6% of the credit.
Much of my time is spent planning events. Speculative meetings, meetings that go nowhere, meetings that burst with promise. Watch this space.
Not enough time is spent updating this website. Better get to it. To be honest, I'd ask the time-stealing monster to do it, but its spelling is atrocious.
Incidentally, for those more musically-inclined, I've been listening to Hardfloor, Legowelt and Mixmaster Morris.
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