Bouncing happy with my foot in the door

I have finally got my proverbial foot in the door of the publishing industry.

In the way of the door that is, as I progress on through. Not stuck in the door in an attempt to kick it down as many dreams had inspired me to do, those ones soon gave way to higher aspirations of world domination, but that'll come later. Below is my Paul Klee-style impression of how hard I was grinning when i got the call:

Manically it seems. This profound and joyous news came a week after passing my driving test - I was in WHSmith at the time and I was bouncing happy.

It took 9 months, and has come in the shape of a year long internship with Wiley and, I was not previously aware but, it's paid. Only thing is it starts in September so I'm looking for season jobs until then, ideally trying to scope out a few publishing related ones in the mean time but depends what turns up.

Very excited. This by no means gets me in, employed, for good. I know the struggle begins with getting the first job thereafter but it's a very valuable first step; could possibly even end up staying on there, who knows? I couldn't ask for more and I'm looking forward to it.

Changed name, new look & a new url on the way...

Too many people have nicked my name. It's also why my URL you'll see up there on your address bar is stevewilliams1 and not the original which is being used really well.

So I've changed the name - it's now going to be known as:


One More Glass of Crazy


I've secured the url for it too (onemoreglassofcrazy.blogspot.com).
Eventually all this stuff will be moving to there.

The big shift will likely waste everything i've been trying to achieve in terms of making people any people see this via blogcatalog.

But then again it's likely no one is reading this

as the "0 responses" below will prove

i want to go here

Found the newest addition to things I must see/do before I die (click to enlarge):

No photoshopping going on there, those colours are real life stuff caused by surrounding volcanic bacteria in the earth around it apparently. It's called the "Grand Prismatic Spring" and is found in Yellowstone National Park, N.America. It's the largest natural hot spring in the US and possibly the maddest sexiest alien thing I've ever seen. Wherever I first found it someone had described it as an excess blob that fell off of god's paintbrush, nice way to put it. I'd see it as a portal to another dimension full of orcs or chocolate. Amazing.

snow

(click to enlarge)

Yes this is totally self indulgent me posting a load of pictures of snow, but it's in England and it's rare for us brits.

Twinges of dissapointment struck me when I realised I'd never be able to use it all. It just sat there reflecting the sun, refusing to melt, blinding me all afternoon.

I have learnt something:

#1 rule of snow: DON'T ROLL A SNOWBALL UP TO YOUR WAIST HEIGHT UNAIDED. IT HURTS.

tiger

more art junk. found a piece from ages ago, a copy of a favourite artist of mine Franz Marc who was was an "expressionist". Besides the expressionism within I liked the colours with the abstractness of it all, simple as that. He did things like this below which is my favourite painting ever (I am now giving you an art lesson):

"Fighting Forms"

Source: http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/marc/fighting-forms.jpg

And this, called "Tiger":

Source: http://www.siu.edu/~dfll/German/ArtImages/FM-tiger.jpg

there's my pale-looking immitation in pastels below.

Drawing

random things I drew once, I scanned them and here they are. I am no artist but there's other outlets for imagination. Click to enlarge if you like.

Glowy orb thingy


I want a world where signs are always up-to-date


Spaceshroom



Tanktank


yes i know it's creased

rejections, rejections...

I'm beginning to become aware of just how bad I must look to the employers I'm sending CVs to. The lack of reply is no surprise, that's just how failed applications with no relevant experience go. I wouldn't consider waiting for a second, so I keep searching...'though unemployed for 2 months now this is starting to get very annoying..

An image has been building in my head of publishing bosses looking at my cover letter and CV and rejecting it. I can see them sat in an office, leaning back in a chair made from the skin and bones of something rare animal, window blinds almost closed, light struggles to tear through the slits and there he or she sits, manically laughing with a cigar in the mouth so hard that it falls out onto my carefully edited documents and ignites them, laughing even harder as it burns in front of them, they hold it in their hand aflame because they have no feeling in their fingers...nor their soul...he/she scrunches the burning material into a compact ball of fire and hurls it at a kitten who happens to be there in the corner - the kitten bursts into flames. He/She stares at it until it explodes, futher laughter ensues....

or something similar

I want to believe

I don't give a damn about the X-files.

I believe that the second X-files film is going to be terrible; despite a cameo from the one and only Billy Connely the trailer looked miserably boring and I never paid that much attention to the show so I can't say I'll be investing any money. I was on a writing forum and saw this pic and it has me convinced we're being watched by things other than CCTV:

Source: http://www.cabiz.net/zolaric/ccposter.jpg

I thought that was pretty special..

...but look at this:

Source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/shared/spl/hi/pop_ups/04/uk_enl_1092327199/html/1.stm

Now if that isn't a sign I don't know what is.

Pretty, yet spooky. Though it must be bloody annoying for farmers. Though what the hell kind of messages are they trying to send us? I'm convinced our lesser intellectually-developed planet is being used as an art canvas, they may as well piss on us.

On second thought take that back, I don't want to risk jinxing anything.

In short: say hello properly and stop being mystical or don't bother..or just eradicate big brother from my tv's screen. God I hate big brother.

Dangerously Clever

Eyes bleeding over journals, sleeping in the LRC, 44-hour marathons, and more literary theories than I dare to recall to mind have been the last few memories of university life; three years finally nailed down at Uni of Hertfordshire my English Literature and Creative Writing degree is done and I got the 2:1 I wanted so it's smiles and self-righteous gloating all round.

More importantly for me personally I got the same grade for all my final year creative writing, including the final project: a parodic metaphorical short story surrounding the lifepath and inner turmoil of a clown experiencing an identity crisis. I'm sure worthy pieces will be making appearances here in the near future for anyone who wants to read.

Now I have to decide what to do about a career with a degree in the least vocational subject ever, Literature...

My newly updated CV is looking dangerously clever and geek-worthy; I'm actually having to put effort into the 'personal statement' and 'interests' sections and prove I have a life, which horrifies me.

Great Works of Literature #1

I'm not even going to try and explain the semantics behind this one. Looking through a treasure chest of writings down the years I keep finding this one which istimeless. Sometimes these pieces -- written with friends creatively inebriated in teenagehood -- were lyrics to guitar pieces. I don't know whether that's the case here but regardless here it is.

Carpet Made of Sand

I reach my hand to you
As we sail past this land
Flying around the moon
On a carpet made of sand.

You ask me where we're going
And i can only reply
"Girl, how can i talk now
When I'm learning how to fly?"

I see your disappointment
And a tear forms in your eye
We have come so far now
I don't want to see you cry.

This life is one of pleasure
As was the one before
I know we're fried on drugs
but there's so much more in store.

And when we touch upon the moon
I'll take you by the hand
We'll eat the cheese we stand on
'Till we no longer can expand

Rise up like a bubble
Life is only a great struggle
In our pilgrimage to "happy"
But some dick has burnt the map.

Steve Williams
19th Jan 2005