Malcolm Middleton and Aidan Moffat managed to get my hopes up yet again last night, when more tickets for the Arab Strap gig at Nice n Sleazy’s were made available to the next 30 on the list that applied last Monday. I couldn’t help but get my hopes up, but nothing came of it.
Deflated, they then announced a special Twitter competition at midnight, so I waited up just for it. Moffat’s question was a trick one that I never got, but I must only have been seconds out with Middleton’s was easier and I sent in my answer. I was in such a hurry, though, that I mis-read the question and missed out part of the answer.
I am gutted, absolutely gutted, to the point of visible grumpiness and frustration at not being able to go to this one-off gig. I even offered anyone who would supply me with a ticket a night of free beer and a part in my next novel.
But these tickets are more precious that the Golden Tickets Willy Wonka handed out, and nobody is giving them up for anything. Money, gifts, sex, you name it, it was being offered last night on Twitter for the chance to see this gig. But it’s not to be.
Dreams to Fiction
While I was in Benidorm, I had a couple of quite extraordinary dreams, both of which were as clear and vivid as to provide the irresistible source of some brand new fiction.
The first was a dream about two ghosts, which was so terrifying, I launched up out of my bed kicking out and attempting to scream. Then it came, and as the roar of “f-f-for fuck’s sake!” roared out of my lungs, my room-mate was very soon alert to my sudden plight.
We sat there in the dark staring at each other. “What the hell was that about?” he asked, eyes wide and breath panting in shock. I couldn’t answer; it felt like I’d walked out of the nightmare instead of woken up from it.
It was awful. I can still see and hear their faces as they spoke and floated towards me, smothering me and filling me with an acute case of terror. It still gives me the shivers thinking about it, but I’ll use that one in a short story.
The second dream was much longer about a gorgeous woman at a party on a yacht, flirting heavily with a married man she once knew and had been reunited with. She was tempting him with her strong sexual magnetism, and he began to weaken to her. As they embraced at the back of the yacht, a stanchion snapped and she fell into the ocean.
That was where the dream ended. No biggie really, but from this the great question of “what if” sprung into my mind, not once, not twice, but thrice. I was off and running with the scent of a full-on thriller in my nostrils.
The first of my tasks yesterday then, was to start developing both of these ideas. I outlined the ghost story in some detail then began developing some ideas for the novel. It grew quite rapidly and I couldn’t stop myself; I wanted to get it all down on paper so that it will be there and available and can be added to. If I left it, I knew from experience it would disappear forever.
Then the weird stuff happened. Over at Blasted Heath, a cover sale was under way of ebook covers from JT Lindroos, which were deemed unsuitable for eventual novels now published. I saw one of them and knew immediately it was right for the ocean thriller I’d penned an outline for that afternoon. Check it out here – it’s the MISSING one at the bottom.
So I’m in the position of having a fully outlined novel, as yet untitled, but with an awesome front cover! Talk about dong things the wrong way round. Something smells right about this, though. As far as thrillers go, it’s going to be a pure nerve wrangler.
I began the hunt for a good document scanner. I need to get the original artwork for the SILLY POEMS book scanned in professionally but this isn’t as easy a task as you might think. I almost settled on Trumps on Clerk Street but then my wife, as a professional photographer, gave me a couple of other ideas to check out that might prove better and slightly cheaper.
I’m not going to sacrifice quality for cash, but I reckon they doo need to be investigated first. Either way, the illustrations will go to the scanner, whichever one I choose, by the end of the week.
The 3 Ebook Deal and Free Poetry
Don’t forget to visit my revamped website at www.colingalbraith.co.uk and either sign up to the mailing list or ‘Like’ my Facebook page [www.tinyurl.com/colinonfacebook], as it will mean you’ll be entitled to a free copy of each of my next three novels. Alternatively, just scan the QR code to the right or text 3BOOKS to 88802 or go to the 3 Ebook Deal web page!
You’ll also find some great deals over at my poetry place www.chasstramash.com: all poetry ebooks are available for free download, 86p on the Kindle, and £3 (25% off!) for print copies.
Peace and out!
BUY 1 EBOOK, GET 2nd 50% OFF
Enter coupon code SECRETUK305 at checkout ( SECRET305 if outside the UK) when you buy any one of my ebooks, and get the second for 50% off: FRINGE FANTASTIC, POOLSIDE POETRY and SILLY POEMS FOR WEE PEOPLE VOL.2. Offer cannot be applied to previous orders and only applies to books or eBooks ordered through the Lulu option. Offer expires at 11:59 PM on 18th November, 2011.
Ooh, I don’t know if I should admit this but… (whispers) Who are Arab Strap? (am now hiding behind settee) What a disappointment though that you couldn’t get to see them do whatever it is they do. I hope you get to see them do whatever it is they do another time. As for your dreams – what a contrast? And in the same night – there’s got to be at least one good story out of them.
Oh Abi, Dear oh dear oh dear Abi.
Arab Strab are a cult band consisting of two blokes, a guitar and a drum machine from Falkirk. It’s not so much there music but what they stood for, their lyrics and their expressiveness. http://www.chemikal.co.uk/artists/arab-strap/
This is the week for weird dreams, isn’t it?
As much as I moan about my printer, it’s an all-in-one, and the scanner is wonderful. It just makes more sense for me to have everything in one spot.
I had another dream last night. Maybe it’s something I ate 🙂