Every week when it gets to Friday I breathe a massive sigh of relief. The built up tension flows out of my body and I look forward to the few hours of relative hedonism that the weekend brings.
This week I have mostly been working. And writing. And keeping my head above water as I drag myself out of the house into the gloom of February. I am pushing myself hard with the writing – I sent the book to an editor a few weeks back and she made some fantastic suggestions. I think I have written some cracking new scenes which have boosted the narrative no end – I couldn’t have done this without my brilliant friend Karina who lives in Hollywood and sorts out people’s shitty writing for a living. I am privileged to have such awesome friends. With a bit of luck I will have the book where I want it to be in a few weeks and it can go out to a few more agents.
I could moan about what hard work it is, but I find writing incredibly therapeutic. My job in the college can be overwhelming; at the moment a lot of my colleagues are off sick and I think this is because they get overwhelmed by the place. Having a creative outlet takes me to another place; sometimes I really have to force myself to write – much more tempting to lie in bed and watch Celebrity Big Brother. But it’s worth it. Definitely.
Also this week it was my little Stanley’s birthday. Stanley is my mini me; we look alike and sound alike – both of us are small and make too much noise. We have been celebrating his seventh birthday for the best part of a week – being seven is a fantastic thing to be. I loved the look on his little face when he opened his presents and the sheer joy he had from eating a filthy Domino’s pizza – basically a cake with tomato sauce and greasy cheese on top. All his presents were Star Wars themed and most of them came from Asda; Stanley is a man of simple tastes and his favourite shops are Asda and Morrisons. I love the joy he finds in the mundane – there is a lesson for us all in there.
Of course this was also the week that our old friend Roosh V dominated the headlines. Readers of this blog will already be aware of my strange fascination with the crazy world of Roosh V and his peculiar journey from pick up artist to uber conspiracy theorist.
Roosh had set aside 6th February (tomorrow) as a kind of world wide men’s rights knees up, encouraging his fans to congregate in cities all over the world. There were meet ups planned for London, Manchester, Newcastle, Cardiff and Glasgow, until it soon became aware that these meet-ups would not pass without massive protest – this largely centred round Roosh’s claim that rape is OK on private property.
Roosh cancelled the meet-ups, claiming that he did not want his fans to be the target of ‘unattractive women’ and their followers.
Roosh was all over the papers for much of last week – the focus of vitriol from everyone from The Daily Mail to Anonymous, who threatened to publish addresses of Roosh and his family.
I can totally see why people find Roosh so repulsive as his views are both deeply misogynistic and completely insane. But perversely this week’s shit storm has been priceless publicity – how many MORE people know about Roosh than did last week? Millions of people who had no idea that he even existed will now be tuned in to his toxic world view. And some of them will probably be intrigued and buy into his bogus anti establishment status.
I am not saying that people shouldn’t be aware of the likes of Roosh – or other internet hate mongers – but I would be very interested to know how much traffic has been driven to his website. Rather a lot I would say.
Maybe sometimes the best response to a chronic attention seeker like Roosh is to starve him of the publicity he so obviously craves.
I would still like to speak to him – weirdly I emailed him at the end of last year. No response as yet; come on Roosh, what are you scared of….