Sheppy's World

It is tempting occasionally to look back and read old blog posts. I don’t know whether it’s a need for comfort, or perhaps a sense that I need a reminder of how this retired world is supposed to be shaping up.

Whatever the reason it is clearly not working, as I am sitting here again. The pattern of false starts and denial continues, clarity and purpose remain elusive and it is starting to look rather like nothing is likely to change any time soon.

You may say that this is somewhat predictable and far from acceptable. I would wholeheartedly agree with you.

So let’s not go back, let’s not dwell on my inadequate efforts thus far and focus on what lies ahead.

Surely change and success are just around the corner!

There is, I guess, an inevitability about this post and its likely successors. I will make a commitment to doing better with my writing. I will bestow it with good intentions and publish it for all the world to see.

I will almost certainly fail.

A few weeks down the line I will produce yet another “mea culpa” regarding my failings and the world will exhale a collective, resigned sigh. Due process will have been followed and I will be no further forward. General disappointment will be embellished with knowing looks and the literary world will continue its inexorable orbit without any meaningful contribution from yours truly.

It is difficult to express how much it hurts to write this self pitying garbage.

Move on, you idiot.

They are ganging up on me, these tests of willpower and resolve. About a year ago, a friend gently enquired how retirement was going and in particular my writing. While informing me that my efforts were comparable to his in terms of their paucity, I had no real excuses. Time, he correctly asserted, was an asset that I possessed in vast quantities.

We were back again last night for the annual catch up. The sharing of cards, delivery of presents and ritual humiliation regarding my writing efforts may have finally hit their mark.

I attempted to divert attention to the failure of our respective good ladies to arrange a mid-year meet-up. This, however, was an abject failure and I was left facing an unassailable truth. Unless I find a way to reignite my literary ambitions, they may well end up on the compost heap of failed hobbies and daft investments of valuable time and money.

So here we are. The new year looms and I am no further forward. However, I will not despair and with the new year will come a new drive and determination. Honestly.

I have a friend, several in fact. One of these friends is also a budding writer and she has inadvertently dragged me back in front of the laptop.

Away for a weekend’s camping with friends from our amateur dramatic group, I was settled in by the campfire with a beer when Nat sidled up and grabbed the chair next to me. “Tim. I’ve been meaning to catch up with you for ages. How’s the writing going?”.

A simple enough question. Innocent, of course, but deadly in hitting the easy targets that are my lethargy & lack of direction. Nat clearly had no idea how badly it is going. She does now.

The “mea culpa” moment had arrived and there was nowhere to hide. I am comforted by Nat’s admission that she suffers equally badly. A little less so, perhaps, by our pact to do better and use each other as a sounding board for our mutual guilt.

Well I have to say that my first official foray into the exciting world of sound engineering was a great success. The audience loved our show and I learned a great deal along the way.

Less successful was the bolt-on opportunity to get involved with the lighting (LX). A cast member had access to some suitable gear and a ropey old laptop upon which to operate said illuminations. So far, so good.

It all went a bit downhill, however, when the limitations of the antique software and the expiry of two poorly old mice meant that juggling sound on my trusty Mac alongside the LX proved impossible. The anticipated seamless changes were clunky and unprofessional, at least compared to my expectations and it quickly became obvious that substantial learning by yours truly was necessary.

So, back to my friend that had recommended the magnificent QLab and my introduction to the world of DMX lighting control. The game is afoot, as a certain fictional detective might have said!

That’s what they say, whoever they are…

I happen to think they are right. Every day offers new opportunities to learn and contribute.

Here’s a “for instance”…..

I am a member of another drama group locally. We put on new works, generally by one of the two founders, along with adaptations of lesser known classics. Acting has long been a passion, musical theatre is great and I love the occasional supporting artist job that I manage to secure, but acting really is still “it” for me.

Unable to commit to the rehearsal schedule for the latest production, I offered to be stage manager and organiser of music & noises. We already have a set builder and a set designer and jolly good they are too.

And so to the learning opportunity. My mate that does this stuff professionally (extremely well, too) recommended a funky App for my so far under-stretched MacBook. I am now the proud user of a marvellous piece of software called “Qlab”. It is an absolute revelation and a joy to learn.

This play will enjoy magnificent sound effects, fabulous continuity music and a very satisfying period feel suitable to its 1930’s setting.

At least that’s the plan!

Guilt is a strange thing It can vary from a fairly low grade, “could have done better” type of guilt to a nuclear grade that can quickly become an addiction. Self flagellation is, it appears, a severe risk if you let yourself drift along that particular road. I sincerely do not intend for that to happen.

Recent evidence suggests that I am currently cruising in the slow lane of the guilt highway, but as we all know I am an addictive kind of chap and the risks appear obvious.

Best to do something about it now then, which I suppose is the underlying purpose of this post. The title points towards a lack of activity on here since before the better half & I headed off “down under”, but really it’s about the lack of direction that I am currently feeling. That is where the guilt starts to accumulate.

Someone once described early retired chaps as a bunch of busy fools. I never quite understood that until recently. Whenever quizzed on how I spend the time afforded by this recently acquired freedom, I trot out the usual platitudes about being busy, no idea how I found the time to work etc. etc. but in reality the statement about busy fools rings rather too true for comfort. It is true that there is much to do and there is little point listing it all here, but suffice to say that without direction and focus none of it really amounts to much.

A future post, I suppose, will have to be an honest assessment of the pro’s & con’s of where I am at.

Can’t wait!

I ran into a neighbour this morning. Not literally, obviously. It has become clear to me recently that this particular neighbour and I have much in common.

For a start we share the same name. We are possibly around the same age and appear to have a similar rhythm to our lives. Tim #2 as we shall call him is still gainfully employed, which of course I am not, however we share a love of the arts and appear to both be creative geniuses. Only this morning, in fact, we decided that we are the sole inhabitants of the “Timiverse”. No further evidence is necessary.

We have resolved to have coffee together, once the boss & I return from our much anticipated holiday “down under”, in an attempt to seek some common ground. We will then of course bring our talents to the eagerly waiting world.

I am firmly of the opinion that things happen for a reason and this chance meeting in the street is obviously destined to be the start of a hugely satisfying collaboration.

OK it’s time to climb down from the perch of pontification and make a start. I will write a murder mystery. It will rival the timeless works of Agatha and sell millions. Obviously.

What, you may ask, has caused this sudden spark of enthusiasm? Simple really. Last night I did what I never imagined I would have the balls to do. I shared a couple of these posts with a friend. He’s a published writer, albeit only a solitary magazine article on metal detecting so far, but he is now working on his first book and to me that makes him a pro. He claimed to enjoy what little I shared and gently exposed the uncomfortable truth that I need to get on with this as I actually do have it in me. To give up now would be a criminal, lazy waste of my efforts so far. Apparently.

You may be surprised, given the above, that I am actually extremely grateful to him. Piling on the pressure even further, apparently we are to share our finished works at some indeterminate future date.

The die, as they say, is cast.

Wish me luck!

My experience so far is that the pathway to successful writing is littered with the carcasses of false starts. It is a desolate boneyard of abandoned great ideas, haunted by the ghosts of good intentions.

My writing career seems to be in terminal decline before it has even started and I have little idea how to turn this particular tide. Perhaps I should write a biography of King Canute as he appeared to have about as much success as me in that regard.

I wasn’t expecting to achieve much with this post, other than to do something vaguely useful with my mind while I enjoy the final cold drops of coffee.

In the current wasteland of my creative genius I suppose that counts as some sort of progress.

Ho hum, on we go…more coffee??