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Audio books

Posted in Life..., Reviews, Uncategorized, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 2, 2009 by stanleyriiks

If Stephen King tells you to do something you do it. And Stephen King told me to read a lot, well in his book On Writing he says if you want to be a writer you have to read a lot, and I want to be a writer. Every day I slog to work and back, every day I am abused and mistreated, every day I read: I want to be a writer.

So I bought a few audio books off Ebay, thought I’d catch up on some classics, so H. G. Wells and Jules Verne to start off my collection.

I listened to The Invisible Man and was impressed. The cheap CD I got from Ebay was basically a collection of downloaded audio books from Librivox. I visited the website and found there were loads of books waiting for me to listen to, so obviously I’ve filled up my ipod with Dante’s The Divine Comedy.

Audio books take a bit of getting used to, it takes a little more concentration than listening to 30 Seconds to Mars and Papa Roach. But once you get your head in gear it’s off you go.

Librivox hasn’t got everything available, but it is free. Amazon do a range and so does Apple at their download store, I bet your local bookshop does too.

Think I might download Justineby de Sade next!

Reading had never been so easy!

A Struggling Writer

Posted in Uncategorized, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , on May 3, 2009 by stanleyriiks

I sit down at a blank screen and words fail me. I get stuck. Inspiration evaporates. The process of transcribing the ideas and images in my head onto the page, the actual process of translating my thoughts into words and coherent sentences is what kills it for me.

Writing is now a chore. It’s a job. Although I still do it for the love and not the pay. I’m not a paid writer, I don’t need to do it to live. Which is a bloody good job, because I would have starved by now, in my portable cardboard home.

Mostly I write reviews; books, films, comics, music, even toys and porn! I’ve written reviews for just about everything you can think of. But for some reason I don’t really count reviews as real writing.

Realwriting is stories, novels. I used to write those. Almost twenty years ago I was a non-stop writing machine. I loved it, fuelled sexual frustration and teenage angst-fuelled catharsis. Sexual misadventures and rape fantasies, murder and slaughter and vengeance. Everything inspired me then. I barely needed inspiration, I just sat down and wrote for the sake of it. Either a story would come to be or it wouldn’t. It didn’t matter, the passion drove the words from me at eighty words a minute.

Now I type faster and I think slower than I did all those years ago, and yet still the problem resides in the process of vomiting the beauty of thought into the clunky mess of vocabulary.

So, what is it? Is this the dreaded writers block?

I’ve had the pleasure of interviewing a number of writers over the years: Joe R. Lansdale, Michael Laimo, Christopher Golden, Joseph McGee, Joseph D’Lacey, Ray Garton… On the whole most real writers, most paid writer, don’t even believe in writers block.

And if it is and I’m suffering then I must fight it, I can’t just give in.

And so I started a blog, to try to get some discipline back. To give me a bit of focus.

It’s the same reason I started my myspace page last year, and it actually worked for a couple of months. Until I got too busy. Or writing became too hard. Or the block got too big.