I will very slowly over the course of the summer add excerpts for all of my books. 
So far, there's:

• 50 Shades of Gnome
• Stara
• Name Dropping with Hayden
• Ghetto Super Skank. 

And if you head on over to TBM, you can read the first part of 56 Seconds. 

I will try to get Story Time Submission details up soon. And maybe a blog post lamenting my lack of Pimms (I seldom drink and the one time I wanted something particular, everywhere was sold out). For now, I have novels and short stories to see to and I need to force through an upgrade of my operating system to get inDesign to work. 

I hope everyone is enjoying this pleasant weather and if you drink, I hope you have a bottle of Pimms to go with it. 

As I just stated, one of my cats died last weekend so I haven't been around much. To be honest, it has been peaceful being away.

This summer, I'm obviously going to spend relearning inDesign and Photoshop and I'll hopefully get to grips with Illustrator so I can have a new portfolio focused mainly on the digital, which will help me get a new job by the time the leaves start turning. So, I may not be around all that much. I will share my progress, but that's more to do with when I don't, I have people trying to "fix" me because I must be broken if I'm not living every goddamn moment through social media instead of just being busy. By the way, these people who live through social media are really unhealthy. I just want them to leave me alone and unfortunately posting some vague idea of what I'm doing is the best way to go about it. 

And it looks like while I was gone, Ginger Nuts of Horror had some sort of attack on his website, which google totally penalised him for because that is something google punish you for. Here's the new Ginger Nuts, go give Jim your support. He's been really supportive of me. I think he's archiving the old site, so hopefully anything of mine on the old one will still be there. 

I'm obviously working a bit more closely with the lovely Mar Garcia. Mar is giving me some direction, and although I'm applying that to what I need to do to get my lost skills back and get a new job, it is obviously more for my horror work - mainly writing at this stage. She has put an excerpt from 56 Seconds up on her website if you've been on the fence about it, you can read some of it over here. As that seems like a really good idea, I have started to add excerpts here too. It'll probably take all summer to post something from each book, but you can get started with 50 Shades of Gnome (which was released while I was avoiding the socials) and Name Dropping with Hayden. 

Also, as part of trying to secure new employment in the near future, I will be setting up my own wordpress site. This site will still be my main output for writing and art (and sound), but wordpress is pretty much the standard. It'll be focused on what I can do in marketing, but I'll post the links if you are curious or don't trust that I am doing what I say I am doing. 

And this part of redecorating my house is finally finished. I posted about it on TikTok if you want to see the videos. The landing just needed refreshing rather than full on work and redecorating. And I tidied up the room of shame, listed things I no longer need on Olio etc. So when I have the money to sort out the room of shame, that'll be easier plus I have space to paint and circuit bend when I can no longer handle the digital and need a little break. 

And on that thought, I do have some writing to see to. Later in the month, I'll open Story Time to submissions, which I'm really looking forward to. The creeps seem to be leaving me alone (finally) so I have much more freedom with my youtube now that Story Time has served its purpose (I am keeping it). 

One of my cats passed away last weekend. She was 19 years old. So please give me a bit of time to get back into the swing of things. 
Her passing was expected given her age as cats don't typically live that long. She was also pretty inbred and had a lot of Norwegian forest cat (average life expectancy according to google is 15 years) in her. I don't really know how she kept going on as long as she did.
She hated to be handled, but if she took a liking to you, she'd sit and sleep on your lap for hours on end, which resulted in half of her being brushed (she had that forest cat undercoat and hated to be brushed) and the other half being matted. 
Towards the end she needed a lot of extra care, including with washing. Turns out you can get dry cat shampoo and she loved that. I also bought her licky treats when she couldn't really chew any more. 
The night before she passed she ate loads, including Gourmet cat mousse. She did have breakfast the morning she passed. When people started questioning why I wouldn't put her down because she looked rough, she was still eating and purring and happy. A 19 year old cat is going to look rough. My response was when she no longer had any quality of life, I would have her put down.
Me and my son think she had a stroke after breakfast that morning and that was the call. I made the appointment to take her, but she passed in the taxi on the way. 

Towards the end, when she stopped going up the stairs, I made her a giant plate of spaghetti because that was her favourite. I also moved her bed and blanket to the room of shame and put it right near her food dish because she loved to eat so much. 

And yes, just as I had trolls telling me off for washing my geriatric cat, people did tell me off for giving her a plate of spaghetti when it was obvious she didn't have much longer to live. For these people, go fuck yourself. I even stated in the spaghetti post on social media that she wasn't going to live much longer and always enjoyed stealing spaghetti most of all. It was given to her for her own happiness at the end. I have to report each and every one of you to my solicitor, it is a pain in the arse and you might end up with a criminal record so think before you comment. 

I hope anyone who visited Liverpool for Eurovision did not come across the creeps and creepettes that are so dominant in this city during their visit.

​We stayed home. My son didn't want to go to town, even though at least one of his friends had gone and I honestly don't have the energy for stuff like that anymore (hopefully, when my life is where I want it, I'll be earning more and therefore spending less energy on work so might be able to give up a few days to attend live events). We ordered pizza and the delivery was timed perfectly to arrive right when Eurovision started. 

I did not like the result last night. I did not like Sweden's entry at all. I didn't like Estonia or Germany either. I seem the odd one out with Germany. Lots of people seem to have liked them (at least on social media, they came in last). 

My son and his friends really liked Israel and I must admit, she was fun. Finland seemed to be saying sorry for entering The Rasmus last year (I hate them as much as I hate Phil Collins, but at least I'm not stalked by The Rasmus every time I switch on the TV or radio). I'm surprised Finland or Israel didn't win. 

It was Norway who had my vote. Although I had trouble deciding because there were so many high quality acts this year. What sealed it for me was looking like Loki puked on her, so a bit of Norway's national identity in the costume design as well as the song (although I really think Marvel have everything to do with making Loki the most popular Norse God). 

I really liked the UK's entry. Mae Muller did a good job and she did not deserve to come in second to last. 

The highlight of the evening was Netta (Israeli winner, 2018) cover of Dead or Alive's You Spin Me Round (Like a Record). That's a really good song for her. 

And that's it from me. It has been a very busy weekend, even with that extra day off on Friday. Next weekend I am only going to rest. Maybe watch some TV in bed or on the Sky Q (glad I finally upgraded), maybe read a book. Once the landing is done, I'll get back to working on my lost skills and writing. Plus I'm letting my Adobe subscriptions run out so I can get their big package at the beginning of the month. 

I've done this as a slide show because I'm tired. But my son finally has a habitable bedroom. The problems with the leak started about six months after we moved in. The housing association would fix the leak and say it wasn't going to last. Finally, eight years later, they fix it properly. This would have been cheaper and easier for them if they fixed it properly the first time. And a lot less stress for me and my son. 

Not next weekend, but the weekend after when there's a bank holiday and I have an extra day off, I will be painting the landing. Then I'll be organising the room of shame. I'm hoping everything that I'm getting rid of will be gone by the 1st of July. I won't be redecorating the room of shame until next year because I'm out of money, which sucks but I honestly need the rest and I need the weekends to recover my lost skills and write those books I intended on writing over the winter (did nearly finish all my godless releases for the rest of the year and into next, I have to finish writing my halloween one, then I have four to format, but I'm going to wait until I have InDesign). But as I want to work on recovering my lost skills and circuit bending and some of my larger multimedia projects from before I moved to Liverpool, I do need space in the room of shame to do this. Might also get out my paints, but I really need to master digital art. 

Overall, with the front room and my son's room now sorted, I plan on having a nice and relaxing summer living life as I wanted to live it. I'm hoping to also start driving lessons. Then once I have a car, me and my son can get out of Liverpool for the day. 

That's me 15 years ago today. The day I handed in my final university assignment. This post is not going to be a positive celebration of going to university and being awarded a first because I fucking worked hard for that goddamn degree while living in pretty unbearable circumstances with my mother and while being in an abusive relationship (instead of my father saying, hey let's get you out of that abusive relationship, I was told, "you're going to loose him" - good, he was fucking abusive and that should not have been normalised by my family or by society). 

I fucking worked hard for that degree against a bad back drop. I did it because I was told that once I finish the degree, people would back off me and let me live my life as I see fit. 

But that didn't happen. The law had to change first. It took ten more years before I was finally allowed to live life as I see fit. And before people say, well you could have got out, what was I meant to do? Pull my child out of school. It wasn't just my family or my personal relationships, it was all of society not letting me live my life. The teachers at my son's primary school were just as nasty to me as my family and as people socially, who would cause a lot of drama and keep the decent people away (it is only about 10 per cent of the world's population that are disordered like that). People knew exactly what they were doing because I explained it to them but they thought they were special and did it anyways. 

Five years after legal and cultural changes, I'm nearly where I wanted to be one year after leaving university. Nearly. I'll be getting InDesign in a few weeks and I plan on spending all summer recovering lost skills. Then I'll be applying for new jobs (although I'm still applying but I think that if I'm patient and work hard this summer, I can get a better job in the autumn on a higher wage). 

So, I'm very nearly where I wanted to be. However, it took a few years of therapy for my son to develop any ambition in life because him witnessing all of that coming from everywhere and everyone told him there wasn't much point in trying (every time I've been in therapy, some asshat in Liverpool had decided what me and the doctors were saying was wrong and they were right, so I can't have anymore while I'm in Liverpool). I've only been paying into a pension for less than a year. I still don't own a house, which if you scroll through the blog, you can see what living in social housing is like (it isn't pleasant, but better than a private landlord). I haven't had a holiday since about 2005 (I don't consider travelling to the USA a holiday, especially given how I get treated when I'm over there - I need a holiday and therapy after visiting that country, but I last went there in 2008 anyways, a few weeks after that photo was taken, which started the ten years of Hell). I suggested to my child that we go to Tel Aviv not next year but the year after and he said he'd rather travel to Paris. I said that's fine I'll see how much flights are and maybe we can go next year because that's cheaper than Israel and we can go to Disney. But my child wants to go on the train. After those ten additional years of bullshit, I don't have the energy to take the train to Paris. My child doesn't understand this. The train takes more spoons than flying. I still attract people with untreated cluster b disorders (although I'm much better at telling them to fuck off and not tolerating it, but at least on social media, these people get cooed over and everyone seems frightened of saying the wrong thing because the disordered person will take it the wrong way and blow up and then ruin your life because that's what disordered people do). 

And those are the problems that can be dealt with. Once I move out of Liverpool, I can have more therapy. My son isn't going to throw his life away because I've worked with him and a therapist has worked with him. I can recover my lost skills. I'm already working in the field I went to university to work in to begin with, I just need the skills to get what job I wanted. I can earn more money and therefore pay in more to a pension and go on holiday and not worry about bills. I've received training to recognise when someone has a cluster b personality disorder. I can write to members of parliament to ensure that active steps are being taken to prevent society returning to the way it was. I can let people know that this has happened and it isn't acceptable and with what they're saying or doing, they risk things returning to the way they were. I can push for teachers and school staff to get the same treatment as the police (I'm aware there's a campaign for NHS staff to go through the vetting and weeding out of the bad seeds next, but you know, police, the NHS or education shouldn't have these bad seeds to begin with).  

Unfortunately my energy levels won't recover. The abysmal way I was treated in Liverpool unfortunately involved some life destroying things. I can't fix those, but I can move away (once my son finishes school), which will help me trust people again (because as I said, it is only about ten per cent of the population that behave like this, most people, even in Liverpool, aren't douchebags and are more concerned with their own lives to interfere in others). 

So, at least, five years after the law changed, my degree is being put to use and I'm nearly where I wanted to be. I have been active in making sure what happened to me doesn't happen to others. I'm making sure people know what abuse is. I'm hoping that the laws that apply on a domestic level will also start to apply on a society level because it isn't acceptable that a school can gaslight children (when my son was sick, I had an email from his school telling me that they'll decide if he's sick, the response they had back wasn't nice) or tell parents that the parent hasn't done anything to improve their life (because apparently a degree and waking up at 5AM every fucking morning to write books isn't good enough, those books I wrote kept my writing skills fresh, which after the kind people on social media bought me that old MacBook allowed me to get my first freelance clients). 

Hopefully in another 12 months, I'll be where I wanted to be after I graduated. 

And no, this post is not a reason for people with cluster b personality disorders to reach out and inflict their life advice on me. You know, most cluster b disorders can be treated. I know a lot of people with cluster b diagnoses who don't behave in that manner and function as part of society so there really isn't any excuse anymore, especially with the legal changes. 

This is a post to say that I am working on getting to where I want to be. I was always working on it, even during those ten years because I knew where I wanted to go. I resent when people project their own insecurities on me. Go fuck yourself. 

Why yes, I did take a break yesterday and watch the Coronation. I'm not here to debate the Royal Family though. Everyone is entitled to their opinion as to whether they are a force for good, evil or whatever (no, I do not think arresting people protesting the monarchy was a good thing to do, in fact, it is pretty fucking horrible and police state). 

While taking this break, my son's new bed arrived. We're hoping to have his room finished by the Eurovision Final on Saturday. I have Friday off to wait for the Sky engineer to upgrade the Sky TV to Sky Q (finally, they have an offer on so it is completely free). Having both the TV and internet on Sky Q should make it easier to get internet in my son's room later on in the year or early next year. 

There's a few volunteers coming to help with putting things in the loft and taking down the bed. A nice woman is coming to collect the old bed on Saturday for her son. 

My son wanted a platform bed like mine, which I bought during the lockdowns so I had to get a bed that one person could assemble by themselves. So getting his new bed set up should be pretty simple. It is the same bed, only a single instead of a double. 

Hopefully on Friday when everyone is gone, I can prep the walls in there. So everything will be nice and ready to be done in a few hours on Saturday. 

Once his room is finished, I still need to paint the landing. Then we're done, for now. Later on in the year or starting early next year, we'll start getting furniture for the front room that fits a bit better and start on the room of shame. 

^This is what we're looking at right now. If you follow my social media, you can see what it looks like when it is done as I probably won't post on here next week. And the new bed, mattress and his pillows. 

Once this part of the house is done, I have two stories to finish (including my godless Halloween release for this year, previous Halloween releases include Stef and Tucker 3 and 30-50 Feral Pigs v the Big Bad Unicorn) and a short story, plus this year's Christmas stories. Then I have some formatting to do for my self publishing releases for the rest of this year and early next year (I've already started with Satan's Yeast Infection 2 and Strip/Becoming reissue). 

Then I will be finishing off some novels. And then seeing what I'm going to do about Snow White. I still haven't decided how I'm going to release it.

I'm saying this now, because when it doesn't look like I'm busy I have a bunch of people that project their own writer's block and low moods on me and then try to "help" me. I will be busy, but my output will be less. And even if I'm not busy, I'm probably resting. Working continuously isn't healthy. Everyone needs a break. Just like always being available through social media isn't only unhealthy but it increases mental health problems and loneliness. 

As I stated last week, I had been a very private person. I'm still not comfortable shouting about what projects I'm working on. 

In addition to what horror, sci fi and erotica projects I have on the go, I plan on digging out some of my older multi-media projects over the summer and I'm still working on my employability skills to help me get a new job (I have a career and would like a new job in that field, one that I set out to get when I graduated). 

As you can see, when I need help I ask for it (like with my son's room). I don't need any help with what direction I am going in. I'm not wandering around aimless and I wish people would stop projecting their own perceived flaws onto me, especially because it made my mental health worse. 

I seldom speak up. It isn't like anyone listens to me anyways. And when they are, it is typically to be a trolling douchebag (had a few of those over recent weeks on social media). 

When I do speak up it is about one of three things:

1. trigger warnings 
2. trans rights (there aren't words to express how much I hate terfs and their male right wing equivalent - but that's a post for a different day and there will be copious use of the word 'nonce' in regards to transphobes, like these creeps are super-nonces and in the USA are trying to have their nonce tendencies written into legislation in some states) 
3. reading too much into fiction and art in general, which is what this post is about. 

But I honestly don't see anyone in indie horror liking what I have to say about this. Why? Because I've been speaking out about it since before my first book was published in 2014. And at this stage, I'm fucking pissed off and fed up and C. Derick Miller should still be driving the goddamn train at Six Flags and maybe he would be if the indie community weren't so engrossed in a massive fucking brown nosing circle jerk. Obviously, everyone in the community isn't involved in this massive fucking circle jerk, but it is enough and it is the people that shout the loudest and seem to have the most drama surrounding them. Therefore, they get the most attention. 

Instead of people listening to me, I get told that I should wear a sweatshirt instead of what I like to wear, I get asked why I get my nails done if I'm not interested in dating, same with my hair. These people sound like my father. One of the things I was really looking forward to when I was growing up was becoming an adult so I could wear whatever the fuck I wanted because it brings me joy and happiness (seriously, being forcibly made to dress like a teenage boy is depressing and identity erasing). If you are too busy judging someone based on what they're wearing, you have some seriously questionable personality traits. And seriously, saying I want "it" based on what I'm wearing is fucking rapey and that is part of the problem (and I strongly suspect that people who say those things commit sex crimes because it is so goddamn objectifying). My clothing and makeup choices should only be important to me because I'm the one wearing it. 

So, what have I been saying since before My Lovely Wife was published? 

I've been saying that artists, writers, film makers, musicians are not what they create. 

When I was in university getting my Creative Writing degree I was lured into a false sense of security. I felt safe creating. I was encouraged to create characters based on someone entirely different from who I am (I had been a very private person but a bad relationship later, I now speak up). And I did. I created this. This manwhore of a character. As I don't have a dick and don't sleep around, I never thought, not once in my life that people would project that character's traits onto me as if I could magically grow a dick and change my sexual habits.

But people, very much in the plural sense, did. 

And this included one who also had a creative writing degree from a different university. On this course, the students were taught that writers only ever write who they are. I won't go into details about how that turned out for me, but it was most unpleasant despite my "no's" and despite me pointing out that if what this person were taught on their course was true, I would have a dick. So, not even logic gets through to these people. 

And this course, and many like it are still running. They're still churning out students that think Stephen King lives in the sewers, dragons exist as do ice zombies, Middle Earth is real, etc. etc. And you can bet that people who can't think for themselves and apply logical are taking them and being awarded degrees and now think that they know everything about creative writing and why writers write. These aren't the sort of people that know how to listen and treat others with respect at any rate. 

Add to that an army of teachers, social workers and police officers (I really thought police officers knew better, but I've heard a lot of stories about them over the last few years, not related to their sex crimes and domestic violence - just open a random English newspaper). Teachers and social workers seem to be the absolute worst for projecting art onto the artist though. Teachers, who have power over the next generation. And don't get me started on social workers. 

So, now we have wannabes that go around, some even publish a book or have a song produced, etc and harass authors at conventions (yes, that has happened to me) because if they're writing what they are then every single other creative is creating what they are. And again, these wannabe losers don't listen or respect boundaries. And they start grabbing. And they're encouraged to do so by what they've been taught by teachers, lecturers and social workers. 

And no one does anything. Because look at what she is wearing. Look at what she is writing. And did you hear what her ex said? Whatever he said must be true. He couldn't have possibly made it up (sometimes based on her own stories, but only the ones he would allow her to write, the shallow and violent ones, not the deeper or more experimental ones, because he wasn't taught to write like that so it isn't legitimate).

And no one listens when I speak up and say, hey this happened to me and it isn't acceptable. 

Because if anyone did, I bet C. Derick Miller would still be driving the train at Six Flags. 

Maybe when Marilyn Manson was first accused of his laundry list of crimes against women, a handful of people listened when I would comment on blog posts and social media posts that said, "his music told us who he is" (all it really told us was he needed Trent Reznor's help with his lyrics amongst other things) and point out how dangerous that belief was and what happened to me because of my writing. Really, Marilyn Manson's interviews told us he was immature. But his lyrics and stage show didn't tell us anything about Brian Warner.

And some people did listen to me and started repeating what I was saying. They saw the logic in it. They understood that women get RAPED because of people going around thinking that artists are what they create. 

But then some shiny new thing came along. So while I was writing to former Prime Ministers etc. and trying to do something about this and at least have a disclaimer put on courses that are going to teach people to create from the inside that not everyone does that, these people left. 

And I was alone fighting this fight yet again as a person that no one really listens to. 

Resist Cancel Culture

Now, this awful meme is circulating social media. Why is it awful? Because Cancel Culture means so many different things. It does nothing to highlight what has actually occurred (a man lost his job because of a line in a book).  The same day this happened, at least one creep was outed (it might have been two). That's also Cancel Culture. Telling TERF Wizard to shut up is also Cancel Culture. Tucker Carlson getting the sack and probably even more of a voice is also Cancel Culture (may whatever gods you worship help us with that one, as he's probably going to blow up now). Varg Vickernes being banned from Youtube? Cancel Culture. Some Karen finds something offensive? Cancel Culture. 

I don't typically agree with 'cancelling' things. With the Tucker Carlson example, he's probably going to be bigger and his audience is going to even more hang on his every word and act on them now that he's unrestrained completely. Fox News still had to bend to their advertisers which gagged him a bit. Calling people you don't agree with politically 'stupid' isn't a very good idea either. It pushes them further from the mainstream and right into the arms of extremists. There are so many ways in which Cancel Culture goes wrong and well, it is nearly one in the morning and I would like to wake up at a reasonable hour tomorrow. 

I've been seriously creeped on and would have been raped at a convention if it weren't for the interference of some artist whose name I can't remember and that drives me crazy because I owe him a drink at the very least (I think he said he was from London, but it might have been Manchester, does anyone know who he is, the incident happened in 2018 in Liverpool, the artist, not the creep, I will die a happy person if I never see that creep again).

The creep's reason for creeping on me? A combination of what I was wearing and what I write. (And probably Liverpool. There seems to be an underlying current of beliefs that amount to "objectifying someone is flattering them".) But he didn't state Liverpool. He stated what I was wearing and what I write.

Have you read Reptile? Does anyone want what is in that book in that happening to them? That isn't BDSM. That's a gross exaggeration and cartoonish version of BDSM.  56 Seconds, which actually is pretty sexy in places was still a few weeks away from release when this incident happened. And even with 56 Second, it shouldn't make a difference because even though that book is sexy in places, it isn't who I am as a person (and it would be pretty difficult for me, without a dick, to film myself wanking and send it to someone). 

I did not ask for the creep in question to be cancelled. I asked why his friends allowed him to get to that point? I asked why no one pointed out to him that when a woman says no, it means no and to leave her alone. I asked why people encourage him to behave in such an awful and dehumanising manner towards others? I called out the people that allowed that to happen. Because this isn't happening in isolation. 

Which brings us back to the BIG MEANIES that instead of listening to me, pick on what I'm wearing. Why is no one speaking out when they're doing this. Why is no one saying, hey this isn't acceptable. Do people get withdrawals if there isn't enough drama and dehumanisation in the horror community? 

There are much bigger issues at play here than what someone is wearing. Like putting a stop to artists having their creations projected on them. 

Because it is fucking dangerous. I most recently stated that in public in January. But I've been saying this for years.

​I'm an actual working author. Yes, I have a career and life outside of horror, but I've still been a working author for years and before that I went to university and earned a degree in the subject. I know what I'm talking about. I'm not here for people to pick on and not listen to and talk over. I actually do say things that are important. 

Scroll to the bottom of the page for a video of me ranting about it. 

One of the worst things of the ten years between graduating and the #metoo movement was loosing my old skills from not being allowed to work, or even develop them further. I was allowed to write because a lot of it was done in secret at 5AM and no one noticed until I started having things published. And writing fiction earned me my first content marketing freelance client. 

Obviously, I wanted more from my career (my actual career in advertising and marketing). I can't write content forever. I'll go insane. Since the AI freakout at my current place of employment, I am now obsessed with how google functions and how to get websites to rank (obviously, I don't use this knowledge and these skills on this website, you usually need to follow a link or two to get here). That's besides the point though. 

But in university (and probably as far back as college, when I realised the pieces of shit around me combined with a very shitty system weren't going to let me return to epidemiology), I decided to aim for a career in advertising. This is an area where multiple skills are needed to succeed. And I really wanted to work in print, which is still around. Not the extent it was when I graduated, but there are still print advertising jobs floating about. 

Trouble is, my skills are rusty where they were existent to begin with. I had no digital editing skills, but that's a story for a different day.

My summer plans this year involve refamiliarising myself with Adobe. It is just experimenting at this stage and messing around rather than trying to create something usable. I will look into getting inDesign for this MacBook. I miss InDesign more than any other piece of software. I loved it so much while I was at university. But right now, I'm going to focus on the apps for my iPad. 

Here's where I'm up to...

This giraffe is my Illustrator fail. Given that this is one piece of software (now an app on my iPad) that I never actually learned in the first place, I'm cool with this. Can't wait to see what I can do with it when the leaves start falling from the trees (given that as I write this, they've fully budded but aren't fully out). 

Stara saw a huge increase in sales this week so I thanked everyone using a template from Adobe Express for an Instagram Story. 

You can buy a copy ofStara from amazon. Or if you prefer ebook, it is available on godless for much cheaper. 

PS every book sale matters to me. If you liked it, please review and let any friends you have that might like it know about it. 

Here's another Adobe Express template. I think I used a book cover one and then resized it to fit an Instagram post. Penis Bird prints can be purchased on Redbubble. I will add some new stuff eventually. I'm obviously very busy. 

I've been trying out Fresco. I have another drawing on there right now where I'm following an Internet guide so if you follow my social media, you might see the finished result posted on there before I post it on here. 

I also created this video with a combination of different apps, although not the heavy duty film one that I'm still figuring out. The intro is a bit too long, but I will get something together for my story time videos. Proper editing may take a bit longer though. 

I can mess around with silent drawing and graphic design apps after editing dinner. My son doesn't even seem to complain if I watch a short tutorial, but once the synthesiser apps and film editing come out, he objects. 

I'm still waiting on a final front room repair, but I was able to finish nearly everything. Just a final bit by the window now. This is going to be so nice to come home to. I always wanted to live in a nice house, ever since I was little. 

This is what I started with on Saturday afternoon, other than what I did a few weeks ago. I did want to start Saturday morning, but I overslept and no wonder given how busy I've been lately between the house, job hunting and upskilling (and recovering lost skills).

Unfortunately some of my things broke while they were stored in boxes. This glass dragon usually had a predominant spot in the cabinet. Right now, he's leaning on the side behind wooden giraffes. 

Unfortunately, one of my mother's china horses lost a leg. She collected these her entire life. Sometimes I think, they were the only thing that kept her sanity hanging on by a thread (fuck enablers, if someone had a rough time, you do not, under any circumstances pat them on the back and encourage them to be destructive, you tell them that it is over now and they're safe and you ensure they are safe and don't try to get them involved in another cycle of destruction, nor do you encourage systems, whether social, political or legal that force people who experienced something bad on some checklist designed by insecure, middle class social workers to be destructive and connect with others based on the bad things, that is just plain evil, you should be ashamed of yourselves, no one should have to suffer anymore than they already have, no one should have to sit around in a giant circle jerk of destruction with other destructive people because some insecure idiot decided that was what was best for them). 

It was around this time that I discovered my superglue had dried out. The horse is also leaning against the wall in the cabinet. I'll pick up some superglue or nail glue when I get paid. 

And now for completion. That extra hook is for another Aleistar Crowley drawing that I purchased from Callum Leckie. I need to pick up a frame for it when I get paid. 
And on top of the china cabinet are some books i've written and anthologies I've appeared in. It isn't everything, but that's what I have personal copies of. 

The Alien canvas board is from the same folks who did the cover for Broccoli. That would be Ilan Sheady over at Uncle Frank Productions. 

My child really likes that stereo and it still works and has a tape deck, so it is staying. I don't like relying entirely on streaming for entertainment so I was going to replace it with a much smaller ghetto blaster. We can hook up an old iPhone and stream Apple music (eventually, when the SE turns up as it wasn't in my phone graveyard, I keep telling my son that there is a phone graveyard for a reason and to stop taking things out of it). That is, until the Internet goes down. Then we have CDs for that stereo and I have a record player in my bedroom. Plus we have DVDs, bluerays and books. Just incase.  

And now the book shelf looks as nice as it is going to right now. I left a gap, which will hopefully be big enough to fit the fifth Chorus of Dragons book once I am done with it (it is on my to be read pile). And you can see more of the book shelf on the reels on my social media. 

That's the best picture I can get of the curtains for now. I will dig out the nets to hang up though. The window is the last repair I'm waiting for. There's still a bit of purple at the top, but I'm going to wait for the repair before I have someone come and take down the curtains and then paint it for me (I can't reach and my son can't get the curtains back up, even though he can reach). 

And there's the stereo again. I'm surprised it still works after the plaster crumbling onto it. It took ages to clean. And of course, my Paul Frank Barbie. (I can't wait for the film.) 

And finally, a very upset Jerk Face. He hates change and things moving around. He gets a break next weekend as I can't do anything else until I order my son a new bed and it arrives. Then it'll be taking down his old bed, painting in his room and then assembling his new bed. The weekend following that is likely to see the landing painted and then nothing else major until the room of shame (I am hoping on getting a new TV for the front room in the Black Friday sales this year, new furniture that fits won't be seen to until I see to the room of shame, because I'm hoping to move the books into there where there's yet more books).