~Everything has beauty...

...but not everyone sees it." ~Confucius.

One of the interesting things about being a creative person is that I remember my dreams quite often. I don’t know if it is to do with the creative side of the brain being able to remember them more vividly or what, but my dreams do tend to stay with me.

Over the course of the last five or six years or so, I’ve noticed developing trends about my dreams — for one, there seem to be (at various points) a character in the dreams who represents my subconscious. Sometimes it takes an active part, sometimes it is just there at the sidelines watching the action unfurl.

I imagine it will come as no surprise to people who know me that my subconscious character is female. I’ve always had a thing about drawing beautiful women, and writing them into my books too, which is odd, as beauty is — in my opinion — very deceptive. Last night’s dream is worth talking about really, as a “get to know Jon better” exercise.

If one is to look in my art gallery, or to read my novel, there are a high proportion of attractive women. It is, in many ways, to be expected of the fantasy and science fiction genres in which I dabble. Some of the pieces of art were, I admit, just a chance for me to draw a scantily clad woman. No big surprises there. But more often then not I don’t draw “babes” for the sake of it.

In fact, the only things I tend to find true beauty in are music, nature, and a very rare type of person.

Attractive women are deceptive. This isn’t a slur on women at all, but simply an observation based on experience. Defining what makes a woman attractive is a hard, hard thing for me to do, and yet most men who I know are able to tell me about their “type” of girl with few problems.

My dream last night was a Blind Date (the television show) scenario. It was interesting because I was sat in two places at once in the dream. There was a version of me, dressed in a suit, sat on the chair by the screen, and there were three women to the other side of it.

The host was Romany, a character from a short story I wrote during my degree who has long represented my subconscious. She was, up until very recently, the most beautiful figure I had ever drawn — not technically, but in purpose. In theory she had everything a man would find attractive. But she hides her face behind a crystalline mask, and only very few people know that while her body is perfect, her face is a rotting façade of flesh, dripping away from some incurable disease. Yes, I have an idea what this says about me. I try not to worry about it.

The other version of me was sat in the show’s audience, so I could see both the be-suited me and the three ladies on the other side of the screen. The three ladies were very, very interesting.

You see, all three were characters from my novel. Well, technically the first two novels.

Number One was Cammael Aikawa. Small, Japanese heritage, long auburn hair, striking green eyes, finely toned but not muscular. She’s the girl to the left if you’re reading this blog at http://www.demajen.co.uk. If you’re reading it on Facebook, click the link and you’ll see her. In the dream she didn’t have the purple skin, just as she doesn’t for most of the book. (Yes, you’ll have to read it to find out why.)

Number Two was Ixai Kirache. As well as one of the better names I’ve come up with, Ixai is quite unusual in that she is of Native American descent, a culture I know little about but have always been quite interested in. Ixai is also unusual in the novel in that she’s filthy. She’s a mechanic, covered in grease and oil, and is generally obnoxious to everyone. So she’s sat there in that chair looking dirty, though she’s probably reasonably attractive, but not conventionally beautiful, under all the grime. I’ve never drawn a picture of Ixai, which is odd.

Number Three was Rowan Blackthorne. Rowan is an outcast, a Faerie stuck on Earth for four-hundred years. She’s of average height, pretty, but lacking the normal characteristics of the average fantasy heroine: she wears jeans and shirts and doesn’t have huge breasts. Personality wise I know she’s tricky to pin down, being vicious, sadistic, infuriating, playful, sensual, scary, timid, fragile, and a whole host of other things. She’s probably the most complicated character I’ve ever tried to write about.

So the gameshow begins. Only problem is, I can’t remember the three questions I got to ask, which makes this next section of the blog a tad dull. All three ladies gave excellent answers to those unmemorable questions (don’t know what that says about me, that I can’t remember the three most important questions I’d use to pick a potential date) but in the end, the outcome was hardly surprising.

Many of the people on my Masters — and Cat, who has also helped proofread the novel so far — have remarked that Oberon is similar in personality to myself. Hardly surprising really: write what you know and all that. And in some ways the whole trilogy is an allegory for my life, but I won’t go into that as the story keeps changing as it is. It is no real surprise then that Rowan, the love interest for the second novel, has a considerable number of appealing things about her.

Trouble is, much like Oberon in the story, I’m not entirely certain what those traits are.

See, Cammael is a babe. I have no problem admitting that I have always found red hair quite attractive, and there are a good number of very attractive Japanese models and singers out there to ogle over. She is aesthetically pleasing, as well as being quite a hard-ass at times. Would I like to date her? No, probably not. She’s a family girl, fairly domineering, difficult to have fun with.

Ixai has a way with words. Underneath her layers of grease and oil there’s a relatively pleasant girl, but it’s her personality that appeals to me. She speaks her mind, she’s not afraid to get physical — as far as throwing inanimate objects at Oberon is concerned — and she’s not worried about getting dirty. She’s practical, very smart, and quite creative too. I like to think of myself as those things, so again, a good match in some respects.

And Rowan. Readers might initially find Rowan to be a bit schizophrenic in her general personality. Sometimes she’s a sadistic, toying bitch; tearing off limbs, slitting throats, and revelling in blood and guts. Sometimes she’s soft, sensual, needy. Sometimes she’s half a dozen other things. In some ways she’s a damsel in distress, and as I’ve probably mentioned before, I have a thing about damsels in distress. Can’t resist trying to save them. Thing is, Rowan doesn’t really want anyone’s help. She doesn’t want affection, or closeness. She’s had a long time to be on her own, and she doesn’t want to open up to anyone about what four hundred years of loneliness and withdrawal is like. She feels uncomfortable with Oberon, even though she likes leading him on and toying with him. She is a Faerie after all.

So why do I pick the challenging one? The one with the issues? The one with complexes and ridiculous personality facets and the desire to cut herself off from feeling anything?

I don’t actually remember which exotic location the date took us too, nor do I remember much about what happened, but — like Oberon in the novel — I found the whole experience interesting. Frustrating at times, difficult to get a grasp on her feelings/desires/emotions. Sometimes I’d say something that would send her into a rage or running away. Sometimes she’d sit on my lap and just stare into my eyes. It was complex, complicated, and I really enjoyed every minute of it.

So, what is my type of woman? I’m really not sure. It seems I like someone unconventional, who other men might not necessarily want to touch with a barge pole, someone who has depths, skeletons in their closets, histories they don’t want to talk about, and yet make me laugh till I cry, make me feel attractive and needed, who won’t necessarily admit they are crazy about me but will imply it in their own, teasing way anyways.

It was an interesting dream. It gave me some material to think about in terms of characterisation in the book, as well as insight into my own thoughts and emotions which, as I’ve mentioned in previous blogs, are a bit stymied most of the time these days. I don’t think these insights speak badly about me, but if they do, so what? They’re my thoughts, feelings and insights, and someday I’ll undoubtedly find someone who can empathise with them, if I haven’t found them already. *shrugs*

What really worries me, though, about the whole thing, is that I can’t remember a single word Romany said. Normally she lashes her beautiful, melodic tongue at me with unasked for advice, which is generally disturbing and wakes me up. I think this time she thought making me forget the questions was a fun enough pastime for her.

Sad thing is, the Romany in the short story was completely different in terms of personality. I wonder what THAT says about me…?!

~The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men~

It has been one week since my last confession.

And quite a lot has happened in that week, so let’s break it down!

1) Macclesfield adventure
2) World of Warcraft patch 2.4
3) The Week Ahead


Macclesfield Adventure

Just after Christmas there was a planned get-together of some of the Emerald Guard’s (my WoW guild) key members. We were going to meet up around the 28th December up in Macclesfield where Tom and Rick live, and have a jolly good time. Unfortunately last minute family&friend things prevented my attendance. Nevertheless, they haven’t given up on getting me to go up and visit them, so now, Easter time, I finally found the time to return to the cold North and say hello.

I’ve known Rick and Tom for a few years now. I could say “I’ve known them since they were at school!” which is accurate, but also reminds me I’m 8 years older than them! >_< During the four (?!) years we’ve been in the EG, we’ve guided the guild into a finely honed casual gaming machine. It has (for 99% of the time) been a pleasure to “work” with them on this, even with my 8 month hiatus from the game before the Burning Crusade expansion. But until now, I’ve never met them face to face short of the odd video call on MSN.

However, Rick threatened to come and beat down my door and drag me out if I missed this opportunity to visit, so like the good boy I am, I packed up my bag on Monday — a laptop, the iPhone, some clothes, some toiletries: travelling light (if you could ever say my laptop is light) for once — and ventured on the train to Macclesfield.

Plan was: they meet me at the station, they take me to their friend Brayf’s house which we have commandeered for a couple of days, and copious gaming and drinking would ensue.

The best laid plans…

Upon meeting me at the station, they chuckled nervously and informed me that Brayf had, in a drunken stupor, neglected to tell them that he was in fact moving out of his house on that same day, and was currently in the process of painting the bathroom.

D’oh!

Alternative arrangements were discussed as I was given the guided tour of Macclesfield which is, to be honest, a typical Northern town. Lots of old stone buildings, lots of pubs, cobbled streets here and there, and at least one bloody great hill. Macc is famous for its silk production. Tom reliably informs me that they made parachutes in the War. It was, as is also typical of Northern towns, very cold. This “very cold” quickly turned into “omg snow!” as we walked up the hill and across town to Tom’s house.

Tom’s abode is a cosy affair. Very cosy in fact, as his Dad has just returned from somewhere in the Middle East (I think) and is used to slightly warmed temperatures, so had the heating on high. It was better than the snow mind you, so we thawed quickly.

New plan. Head into town, get booze, drink, get pizza later.

Sounds like a good plan, really. Insert Spanner In Works #2.

I tried to get money out at 2 cash machines on the way through town. When they failed I just figured it was typical Bank Holiday Monday issues and that the machines were out of cash. As we took a detour to Rick’s mum’s house to find hopeful accommodation for the evening, I got a phonecall from someone claiming to be the HSBC fraud department.

Now, I always figured that banks do indeed have these kind of departments, but I never expected to be called from one. And, while I am not particularly racist in any way, I certainly do not expect Mr Fraud Department to speak in a heavy Asian accent so as to be barely comprehensible. It doesn’t fill me with comfort and security, so I pretended to be someone else and said that Jon would call them back.

We were sat on Rick’s sofa and there was this nagging thought in my mind. What if there was a real issue, and that’s why my money had been refused at the machine? So, eventually, as we left Rick’s and went to get booze having sorted out accommodation (thanks Rick’s Mum!) I phone the bank back.

Now, while I am in love with the iPhone, the touch keypad leaves a tad to be desired when it comes to touch phone stuff. After failing to type my security/account/sort number in about 12 times I did finally get it right and was through to a customer service guy. It turns out that they had put a temporary hold on my account and wanted to confirm some things.

Turns out because I hadn’t bought a train ticket in about six months, it flagged on my account, and then when I went to get money out in Macclesfield their fraud department were alerted. It is, I’ll admit, a good system. If someone had stolen my card, bought a ticket to Macclesfield, and then tried various cash machines to empty my account, it is quite reassuring to know that they would have been scuppered.

But it did give me quite a shock, as there is no money in my other account and I was supposed to be in Macc for a couple of days. >_<

Anyways, booze and snacks were eventually purchased (Tom, I left almost a full bottle of rum at your house; don’t drink it all in one go >.>) and we returned to Tom’s house for pre-drinking drinks. While Tom’s dad entertained us with stories about toilets and tanks, Tom got through a lot of cider, Rick drank beer of some kind, and I opened the rum. See previous blog for my thoughts on rum.

We went into town later that evening, after Tom had impressed me with his collection of swords and air pistols and I made some smutty innuendo about why his bed had seemingly collapsed. Macclesfield was dead. Literally. We saw about three people on the way through town, and very few people in the Wetherspoons, our destination.

Our time in ‘Spoons was spent discussing many and various topics. Much of it was WoW-related, as you would probably expect, though a considerable time was spent discussing Tom in hats (“I made Cat’s beret look good!”) or Rick’s taste in women (“Gief DD or bigger please!”). It was genuinely excellent conversation, and Tom especially was not quite what I expected. Seems he thinks a lot more before ‘opening his mouth’ in game. xD

Later in the evening, Fintan arrived. I’d been looking forwards to meeting Fintan, as I’ve only ever seen one photo of him and, quite frankly, he’s a big, scary guy. Fortunately he has a good sense of humour — he has to put up with Rick so I guess it’s a must — and we got on quite well.

It was getting late by this point, and in a panicked state we realised that the pizza place would soon be shutting. Erk! Three pizzas were hastily ordered and we retreated to Tom’s house, which was closer. I paid for the pizzas as a treat for the hard-off students, and we got free garlic bread too. The pizzas were fucking HUUUUGE and, I must admit, I only managed about 1/3 of mine before being totally full. Mind you, WHO puts green peppers on a pepperoni pizza?! I shall have to ensure I have a) a smaller one, and b) ask for no green peppers, should I ever go back there.

After pizza we headed to Rick’s for sleep.

The second day started in the early afternoon as Tom had to sleep off a lot of cider (bless him, he’s only little!). We spent the day in Manchester, went to see a film (The Bank Job — not the best film I’ve seen at the cinema this year; just the only one :( ) and then indulged in the highlight of the day. Buffet City.

When Rick and Tom first mentioned Buffet City with odd gleams in their eyes, I wondered what I was being gotten into. When Martin and Alex, their two friends, held similar gleams, I started to get scared. I have eaten out in Manchester before, and I can’t say I was impressed. “All You Can Eat Chinese” sounds great, but our local Chinese, the San Wu House, really does spoil me in terms of food quality.

But I have to say I was impressed. Buffet City was excellent, with a huge variety of dishes available for sampling. I was a bit disappointed that the squid was undercooked, but everything else I tried was really rather excellent. And we finished the meal — only Rick managing to push his way through the 2 plates barrier — with that traditional Chinese dessert: Strawberry Jelly?!

We returned to Rick’s full and content. Tom left for an early night, and Rick and myself walked through the tutorial to Warhammer: Dawn of War, which they had cajoled me into buying ‘cos it was cheap. Now I just need to finish other games to make space for it >_<

And thus came the third day, which handily segues into my next topic in a moment. The Wednesday was WoW 2.4 patch day, so we spent the best part of a couple of hours before my departure reading through patch notes, discussing various changes, and finally trying out some of the new daily quests when the servers came back up.

At 15:16 I got the train home, quite tired having not slept properly for a couple of days (I rarely do when staying with other people, and I have a lot on my mind anyways). A thoroughly enjoyable stay, and one I hope to repeat summer time.


World of Warcraft patch 2.4

If you are put off by geek talk, skip to the next section. :P

So yes, patch 2.4, the final big patch before Blizzard released the Wrath of the Lich King expansion sometime….when it’s ready. It features a 25-man raid instance — the Sunwell Plateau — which looks pretty funky, as well as a new 5-man instance (with heroic setting) which is, currently, a little poorly tuned and too hard without at least 2 CC people. But nvm. There’s also a whole host of fixes, minor class tunings, new daily quests, particle system enhancements, new Badge of Justice loots, and much more.

I’m not particularly sure what I was excited about with this one. I knew I’d have to spend a couple of days trying to fix all my addons, getting used to the new instance, and probably working through the daily quests to help with the new world event. Maybe it was the event that was the most interesting thing. Taking back the Isle of Quel’Danas from the blood elves and demons in the service of Kael’thas Sunstrider bit by bit sounds quite cool, even if it is done purely by the repetition of daily quests. The quests themselves aren’t particularly hard, and there are enough mobs to go around for the kill quests, so they aren’t too infuriating either.

I’ve had a couple of goes at the new 5-man, The Magister’s Terrace, and I must admit I liked it. Its quite challenging, but it could do with a bit of fine-tuning. Without a bare minimum of one crowd control party member, most of the packs of mobs are just horrible, and even with two our team last night really struggled — especially on the third boss. And these are people in T5+ gear, on a normal mode instance. I don’t want to speculate just how horrific the Heroic mode is, though I need to do it to get some nice loot for my Priest and Moonkin.

So anyways, 2.4 is, overall, a pretty decent patch. New gear for the raiders, new PvP tweaks for the PvPers, new badge loot for the casual players.

I’m just waiting for the expansion really. Give more levels!!

Geek stuff over. ^_^


The Week Ahead

We’re halfway through the Easter holiday, and I’m looking towards the week ahead. I’ve promised Dave I’ll try and organise some kind of meal or get-together, as well as some rounds of badminton playing to continue our not-going-very-well fitness regime. I also need to get some writing done, find out what happens supply teaching wise for me next, sort out some money stuff, and generally enjoy the last week before the work rolls in again. A fairly busy week unless I’m feeling lazy. As if that’d happen eh! >_>

You are now up to date. Sorry it’s a long one. No sniggering you!

~Jon

An Evening with the Captain and the Bear

Sounds like some kind of screwed up nursery rhyme really doesn't it? *ahem*

Anyways, yesterday was the 22nd of March, notable for two things:

1) It is my Sis's birthday. 24 years of age. She's getting old, bless her. Good job she doesn't read this. xD

2) It was Mr Southall's birthday bash.

The bash began at around half 8 in the evening. I made the mistake of downing about 1/3 of a glass of passoã and cranberry before we left, but I figured I'd start as I meant to go on anyways. It was so very VERY cold as Mr Jones and myself walked up the road, and for the second time in as many days I actually had to button up my jacket (good job I've lost weight. It’s been about 5 years since I've been able to do that). The Princess pub, our first port of call, was absolutely heaving, and was so incredibly warm than I would have divested myself of most of my clothes if it hadn't been a public place and if there had been anywhere to put them. So I just stood there, wearing Spence's hat (which I really wish I'd got a pic of myself wearing actually, ‘cos apparently it suited me!) and tried not to let my skin crawl too much. Cold to Hot just doesn't work for me.

Mr Southall, AKA the Bear, was in fine spirits, drinking vodka and lemonade and generally having a good time. This was good. I then realised very shortly that I was the only person without a drink in my hand. Obviously this would not do, so after some gentle prodding from Leeann ("Burrage you don't have a drink, go to the bar. Now!") I went and said hello to the Captain.

I like rum. Never used to, but I am quite a fan of it these days. I blame my mother for this. The Princess serves proper Captain Morgan rum. They also serve doubles in small glasses, which I don't particularly like. I prefer my rum a bit diluted by my coke. It lasts longer, and it doesn't get me as drunk. Still, my intention for the evening was to get hammered and I had plenty of cash on me for more drinks, so who cared! :D

Had 4 shots in the Princess and there was much merriment, jesting, and silliness in such cramped confines. Soon it was creeping on for 10pm, at which time we vacated the Princess for a trek down to the Cottage where we partook of a shot of something warming before continuing down the hill to the main venue for the evening, Katie Fitzgeralds.

It had been a long time since I'd been to Katie's, probably 12 months or so, and it was a lot darker in there than I remember. Mind you, I don't remember it being quite so "rocky" either, so shows what my memory is like. It was very warm in Katie's too, probably because they had a fire roaring and our gang had chosen to sit/stand next to it. Good plan guys ¬_¬

Drinking began in earnest then. As did silly conversation. If I'm honest I can't remember a huge amount of what was talked about, but I certainly haven't laughed that much in quite some time. In-between stories about Sean's "Gary Gygax D&D tribute game" and the Rape Golem, various ideas about Cthulhu scenarios, and other bits and pieces that I shan't repeat here for fear of embarrassing various people, I managed to consume another 12 shots. Not of Captain Morgan though. This was Lamb's Navy Rum, which is not as sweet as the Captain but has a certain kick to it that I also quite like. 12 shots, in doubles, of Lambs is a bit dangerous tbh, especially at the speed I drink. Even for a man of my considerable size, it gets to you quickly.

But again, that was the point!

At some point around...midnight maybe?!... The Bear took his lady back to the Bear Pit for alternative celebrations and this left the hardcore drinkers sat round a table mercifully away from the fire. I'm not sure what we actually talked about actually. But the hours literally slipped by. It must have been getting on for 4am when the guy from the bar came over and said that they were all knackered and would we mind if they shut up shop. Bless.

There was definite talk about coming back to mine for more drinking, but I think everyone was a bit too tired for that in the end. Either way, myself and Mr Jones left the warm confines of Katie's and began the trek home. From searing fire in the pub to searing cold wind outside. Probably. I don't know, I was warm from rum so I could have been naked in the Arctic and not noticed. For about 30 seconds anyways. Then I'd be dead.

I don't really recall feeling that drunk at the time, and when I got home I was still coherent enough to change my Facebook status to something gushy about loving everyone, as well as sending drunken texts to Amanda, ‘cos I promised :P

It took me a couple of minutes to notice there was someone lying on the sofa all snuggled up under my pink teddy bear blanket. Took me two or three goes walking past her to realise it was actually my sister…. So yeah, I can type coherently, but I can’t recognise my own sis. >.<

Mind you, didn’t exactly expect her to be on the couch. Anyways, I rolled around on the floor for a bit after hugging her because getting up seemed to have become oddly difficult, then made myself a huge glass of water and went to bed with happy thoughts.

All in all, an excellent night! Here’s to many more birthdays I say! xD

There may be some photographs somewhere. I didn’t take any, but I know Helen took some, so maybe they’ll appear over the next couple of days.

Toodles.

~Jon

~The Dance of Eternity~

#~I know what it likes to lose someone you love
/ and this felt just the same~#

Absolutely irrelevant quote but I just happen to be listening to Dream Theater's Through Her Eyes and decided to put it in.

Anyways, what's been going on this week?

Well, not a lot. School continues to be school. I shan't labour more on that one, though it is looking likely I will be heading back there after Easter for more supply work. Which, in a way, is fine, as its close and the work seems pretty darned regular.

Still not quite out of my overdraft. I would have been, this coming week, if it wasn't for my new retail therapy programme.

Ya see, last time I was clinically depressed, I was in Lancaster and the basis of my therapy was coming home and seeing friends/family more. This time I'm already at home, and since the depression is less about work and more about other stuff, I decided to use my ill-gotten supply teaching gains and engage in therapy of the spending kind.

Couple of weeks ago I bought some small things for myself. A computer game, some stuff for school, etc etc. Nothing huge. This, as it turns out, doesn't help. It seems the therapy is directly proportional to the amount of cash spent!

So Thursday night I bought myself an iPhone ¬_¬

I'm a fan of gadgets. Always have been. And I do like having swish phones. So the iPhone was the one I had to have. It has since been named - the iTrout - and played with, and I have to say I love it. It does 99% of the stuff I want excellently! Sure it has some annoyances too: it doesn't have a snooze alarm and it lacks an easy way to put custom ringtones on it, AND everything has to be done through iTunes (*shudder*) but for the day-to-day stuff it really is superb!

The weekend has been mixed. Went out for a few hours Saturday night with the lads, but it wasn't as exciting as I'd hoped, and even several shots of rum and bottles of Smirnoff Ice couldn't enliven that for me. Next weekend is Andy's birthday, so that should at least be fun!

And finally, 4 days more till Easter. God I'm looking forwards to the holiday. >.<

~Jon

Edit:

Oh yeah, I completely forgot. The Dance of Eternity thing. Well yes, it IS a Dream Theater song title, but its also a reminder to me to write about how the book is going. Obviously not a very good reminder, as I'm adding it in now ~_~;

I started part 4 of the book in earnest this evening, mostly after Cat sent me back the copy of parts 1-3 she's been reading for me. Not only has she read it, but she's put notes and comments and helpful things on it, which is much more than I expected and I must give huge thanks to her for spending the time on it. Hopefully that will help me push through this writer's block and get on with part 4 and finish the whole thing. I've just written the opening scenes, which talk about the Dance of Eternity. So there's the link. Rawr.

Updated Biography

I realised a few minutes ago that the biography linked on the main blog page was over a year out of date. Probably about time I wrote a new one really, so here's some updated information about me.

Name: Jon Burrage (aka Demajen
Birthday: 21st January 1981
Location: Wollaston, West Midlands, UK.
Profession: English Teacher (Supply) / Writer / Artist
Websites: Facebook, Blog

Hi. My name's Jon, I'm an Aquarius, and I'm an English teacher.

I graduated from Lancaster University in 2002 with a BA in English Literature, took a PGCE 02-03 in English, Drama and Media Studies, taught from 03-06 in schools in Preston and Lancaster, then took some time out to recover from depression and stress with an MA in Creative Writing at Lancaster Uni. I now work for a supply agency in the Midlands. I won't say I'm loving it, but the money is okay and I get to work with young adults, which is something I feel the need to do for some strange reason.

When I'm not teaching I do one of three main things:

1) I'm a gamer. Ever since I got a 128k spectrum back in the day I've enjoyed playing computer games. I own quite a few consoles (from the SEGA Dreamcast and the SNES to the bang-up-to-date Nintendo Wii and DS) as well as a relatively good PC that can handle most of today's games pretty decently.

2) I'm a writer. For the last couple of years now I've been working on and off on the first of a trilogy of 'fantasy' novels rooted in Shakespeare and mythology. I'm 3/4 of the way through the second draft, and one of my resolutions in 2008 is to finish it and start trying to find an agent and publisher.

3) I'm a digital artist. This particular hobby is often left by the wayside, as I'm not skilled enough to have a chance in today's competetive digital industry, so I look to my writing as a possible future source of income. If I could go back and make all my choices again, when I was 16, I'd almost certainly follow through the artistic path though. Wish I had done. Some of my art is available for download in the Gallery.

I have a relatively active web presence on various forums I host, as well as this blog and a regularly updated Facebook page which I use to keep in touch with people.

This all sounds very dry really, but underneath these 'professional' things I'm a fun-loving, daft git with a deadpan sense of humour and a tendency to do silly things, get involved with the wrong people, and generally make an ass of myself in public. ^_^

~Fierce Midnights and Famishing Morrows~

What's this, Jon? No blog until 8 days later? Isn't that breaking your resolution?

No, actually. I wrote one yesterday. It just isn't for public consumption. Consider it a therapy blog for my addled brain.

Was it important?

To me, yes. It was a necessity.

It's been almost 2 years now since I left Our Lady's with severe depression and stress-related disorder. I was warned at the time that these things love to come back and haunt you periodically, annually.

Last year, on my MA, I got down at this time of year, but it was mediated by the fun I was having on the course, and the enjoyment I found losing myself in my writing.

This year it's hit me a lot harder, due to the stress at school and my own emotional issues. There is no one person to blame for this. I don't regret any of the mistakes I've made over the last couple of months, and in some ways don't even see them as mistakes, even if they have clouded my mind and taken me to darker places than I would prefer to visit. There is no blame here, not from me, not for those who care enough to continuously brighten my days - melodramatic as this all sounds.

It's two weeks till Easter. I still have no idea how long I'm gonna be at this school for, but the hours ahead will stretch out to eternity I'm certain. Will live for the future, for my friends, for a break to this cycle.

I leave you with a quote from Swinburne's Dolores which in some ways sums me up at the moment.

Fierce midnights and famishing morrows,
And the loves that complete and control
All the joys of the flesh, all the sorrows
That wear out the soul.

Find the complete poem @: http://user.itl.net/~geraint/dolores.html

~ Talk sense to a fool and he calls you foolish. ~

It's been an interesting week in the Land of Jon™ (yes, it gets a trademark!) Pensnett High School continues to be a source of much ambivalence on my part. The kids (apart from year 10 and - to a lesser extent - yr7, who are lovely) are a thorn in my side; the staff seem to be split and divided on a number of issues concerning how the school is run; and the general abuse I am receiving day to day would probably crush someone whose emotions are stable.

I suppose in a way the fact that Our Lady's completely crippled me emotionally has done me a favour here. I don't know whether its safe to do so, but in the face of aggression and anger from kids at Pensnett, I've just laughed at them. It seems so absurd to me now, getting upset by kids who aren't going to make anything of themselves in life. In days gone by I would have gone down the "Where do you expect to be in five years time with an attitude like that?" line - but it barely seems worth it now. Did I actually think of the future when I was their age? Does that line ever work anyways?

The answer to both is probably no. I certainly had no idea what I wanted to be until I was at University, and my decision to do a PGCE was based mainly on the desire to stick around at Lancaster to be closer to my girlfriend. Hardly the best decision of my life, but one I will undoubtedly repeat again. Just like the kids I teach, sometimes we don't learn from our mistakes. Not entirely anyways.

Next Friday I'll get 2 pay packets, as due to a mix up (shock horror) I didn't get paid for the work before half term. I've never been particularly good with money (just ask my mother ¬_¬) but to do want I want to do in the next few years, I've really gotta get my head straightened out. But first I need some new clothes and a holiday. :P

Everything in the media today, and my experiences teaching in the last five years, points to a steady (and in some ways rapid) decline in the British education system. Is it time to bail and persue another career, or do I seek teaching opportunities abroad? Decisions decisions.

Money abroad is good, especially in China/Japan where they pretty much pay everything for you. Kids tend to be more respectful, better disciplined, and in many countries there's none of this Sir/Miss nonsense (for the record, I would much rather be called "Jon" than "Sir" or "Mr Burrage") or any kind of school uniform/teacher dresscode. How awesome would it be to not have to wear a shirt and tie every day? Or to do lessons without kids coming in looking bedraggled messes to assert their individuality in an uncomfortable, poor quality uniform?

Maybe I'm a rebel? Or maybe I just believe that these things are unecessary burdens on the mind of the kids. Surely if they felt more comfortable in their own clothes, then learning would be easier?

Obviously I can see all sides to this debate - I have spent hours upon hours using the topic of School Uniform as an inroad to Writing to Argue/Persuade after all. But it is interesting just how well-put-forwards students points can be on this issue. Maybe they can argue/persuade after all. Maybe its worked on me :P

So yes. Working abroad. Teaching English as a Foreign/Second language. Could I do that? It'd be less about literature and more about communication skills. It would probably require a more intimate knowledge of the English grammar than I currently possess.

I shall have to look into it, I think, and see how it goes. I certainly don't see myself getting out of here any time soon. From what I gather, Pensnett will be needing regular supply teachers for quite some time. Suits me fine. Regular income is good. Gets me out of my overdraft quicker.

It is three weeks till Easter now. I still don't have any kind of definitive information about when this particular block of cover ends, as we don't yet know when the regular English teacher will be returning. I'd hazard a guess at after Easter though. Probably better to not come back for just a week before breaking up for two.

Easter itself should be interesting. The first weekend sees my sister's birthday (her...24th?) and also the birthday bash of Mr Southall, partying away into the early hours of the morning. Should be a laugh, and I'll actually have money to spend, which will be nice.

The middle weekend of the holiday I should be flying out to Denmark to see Amanda and get horribly drunk (good forward planning I know :P) as well as check out Copenhagen and get a feel for foreign countries (yes, while contemplating teaching abroad, I haven't actually been abroad since I went to Florence in 1999 >.>) I am expecting to have a great time there, full of much silliness!

Then the last few days I'll spend preparing myself to head back to work. Just don't know where or anything yet. I guess that is the beauty of supply, being on the move constantly, but it is also a curse.

When I first got this cover at Pensnett I was horrified. I didn't want, I thought, to do long-term cover. I didn't want the marking or planning. Fortunately I found 90% of the work already set and left for me, and was greatly relieved by the whole thing.

Yes I'm having to plan some lessons for year 9 next week, as their mock SATs are coming up; and it looks like I'll have to mark those, as well as moderate yr11's GCSE coursework. But the actual lessons are easy enough, and I *do* get PPA time. I've not been doing much at home, except for reading through materials or adapting the odd lesson to better suit the kids.

But now I've been here for over a month, I find that being able to teach a familiar class, whose names you know, is much easier than just going in blind. Perhaps I'd taken that for granted at Our Lady's. Either way, I'm sure I'll be a bit sad when the time comes to move on and teach different kids. But that's the nature of the beast in supply, and I best get used to it.

In Other News

This last week I've finally started redrafting Part 4 of my novel, as well as done some silly doodling (something I haven't actually done for years - its about time I went back to my daft cartoony roots). Both are slow going: I'd forgotten how much teaching saps your creativity, but at least it is a start, an inroads to finishing the novel. It has to be done. The story demands it, and I have some great ideas to fit into part 4 now to flesh it and its characters out, to bring order to its Chaos.

Odd really, that I wish to bring Order to something when I definitely fancy Chaos.

Maybe Euripides quote (the blog title) applies when talking to ones self?

~Jon