Cycling vs. driving - Part IV

It’s official: my car is gone. Well, it’s still in my driveway, but it’s untaxed and the MOT test is long overdue. And I’ve just noticed there are spots of mould growing on the steering wheel. Yes, it’s been a while since I’ve driven it or anything else on four wheels. For at least three months now, I’ve been using my bicycle for 100% of my travels. Long-time readers will know that I’ve been working my way toward this arrangement for a year or two - ever since this post. I like what this change in lifestyle has done for me, not only physically but psychologically. Last winter, the thought of cycling to work in the morning was unbearable. Now, I simply put on my gloves and grab the bike without a second thought. There’s something to be said for embracing a state of mind that isn’t constantly seeking the greatest personal comfort every moment.

The bike has held up pretty well for the six months I’ve owned it, except for a couple of minor quibbles. The pedals (something you rarely have to think about replacing) were useless. The plastic on both of them broke in half after only two months; of course, I am over seventeen stone in weight, but still. I replaced the pedals with a pair of mean-looking bear-trap-style metal ones from my old bike. More recently, my brakes started working poorly. In my usual lazy manner, I let it slide, until one morning a car decided to reverse out of a driveway while I was cruising down a hill towards it. I couldn’t stop, but I could veer. But the moron’s windows were all misted up, and he just kept coming. I was literally one or two inches from having an accident - the closest I’ve ever been. That experience was enough to make me check the brake pads. I discovered they were worn right down to the metal. Naturally, I’ve now got new ones fitted now. Once bitten, as they say.

At this time of year, it’s pretty dark while I’m pedalling to work at 8.15, likewise when I’m heading home at 4.15. In my usual lazy manner, I’ve been making the journey with no lights. Well, despite the fact that none of my not-quite-an-accidents have been related to darkness, I thought it best to rectify the situation and avoid any unpleasant surprise visits to Craigavon Area Hospital.

No regrets. Bicycles rock.

POD People rates Chion 9/10

Chion has just received its sixth review, this time by novelist Emily Veinglory at POD People. She rated the novel 9 out of 10 and said:

I read a lot of mediocre books, but this wasn’t one of them. Seamless, engaging and appealing … Chion is effortless to read and the story unfolds strong until an ending that is perhaps too pat in some ways but still manages something of a clever twist.

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DeLorean: A dream within reach

Some of you know I have a thing about DeLorean cars. It’s based on nothing more concrete than a childhood memory: I recall being about ten years old, glued to the TV set, watching a documentary on the now-infamous car, and wishing I could own one. The power of nostalgia compells me to love this car today; I can’t help it.

There were only ever about 8,000 DeLorean DMC-12 cars made, 6,000 of which are believed to still be in circulation, most in the USA. Now and again, I tap the name of the car into eBay. Occasionally they show up for sale, in various locales and conditions. I never seriously thought I would have an opportunity to own one. However, last week, one of these cars showed up in County Down, of all places - just a short drive from where I live. The car was described as pristine condition, and had had its original rust-proof stainless steel panels painted black by one of its owners. I liked this unique look a lot. DeLorean Noir! Bidding began at £10,000, but with a reserve of who knows what.

So I started thinking, was it truly possible for me to buy this car? Well, the only way for me to raise the funds was to remortgage my house. It’s not as drastic as it sounds. I have a pretty small mortgage currently. More importantly, was it worth it? Let’s say the total cost came to £15,000. Fifteen grand just to make driving feel like piloting an X-Wing Fighter. Since I’m currently getting around on a bicycle (and intending to keep on doing so), the car would be for special occasions only - largely kept in storage, free from wear-and-tear, retaining its classic status for a long, long time. Again, I have to ask, is it worth spending fifteen grand to own a car that you will hardly ever drive?

At the end of the day, it wasn’t money that put me off; the car would retain its value over time and could be re-sold whenever. I opted out because I thought long and hard about what owning something like this does to your mind. I pictured myself driving with acute paranoia about damaging the car. I pictured myself parking in public, leaving the car there and going shopping, constantly worried about someone deciding to run a key along the side of the door because the car is so eye-catching. This mental issue can be summed up in one Bible verse: “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). What the verse is saying is that the things we own form attachments to us, or rather we form attachments to them. It’s a basic, unavoidable principle of human life, rooted in our own greedy natures. We care deeply, usually too much, about what we own. Naturally, the less you own, the more your heart is free to set itself on what’s important in life. Bottom line: I don’t want to become the kind of person who owns all sort of pretty things and worries about them constantly. That’s what the DeLorean would provoke in me. In my youth, I had a terrible collector’s mentality for books and videos. I seem to have grown out of it, to the degree that I hardly ever buy anything these days. If I buy a DVD, I’m usually thinking about its resale value on eBay! I’m glad about that and I don’t want to be lured into materialism again. Maybe I have a better grasp on my mortality than I used to.

So I let the DeLorean go. All things considered, I would be better served pursuing my dream of one day owning a boat. On the surface, it sounds like the same pursuit as the DeLorean, but what I’m really after is the experience of life on water, away from civilisation and close to nature. And experience is far more valuable the ownership of rare treasures. After all, if we get to take anything with us to the afterlife, it will be our memories of what we did in this life.

Chion wins International Print-on-Demand Book Award

My novel Chion gained a stunning review in April 2007 on a site specialising in self-published novels: The PODler. Today, The PODler announced Chion as its book of the year - the International Print-on-Demand Book Award - out of 29 titles reviewed in 2007. There were plenty of A-rated titles that could have won, not least of which was the very successful Antarktos Rising by Jeremy Robinson. But I’m pleased as punch that my little baby was picked.

Flash fiction: “Mind Out of Time”

I’ve recently become fascinated with the phenomenon of “flash fiction,” that is, fiction that is ultra-short, anything from a single sentence to 1,500 words (although opinion on the upper limit varies). I’m presently enjoying reading an anthology of such stories called FlashSpec. Flash fiction is not to be confused with the notion of syphoning a scene from a longer work. Flash fiction is supposed to have a coherent plot, just like regular fiction. One skill is in deciding what material to show the reader and what to merely infer. Another is in composing vivid descriptions with a brutal economy of words.

An idea for a new short story struck me a few days ago. I started thinking about the complexity of it, and all the scenes I would have to include. And then I asked myself, what really do I want the reader to remember from this? And the answer was, I want you to remember the novelty of the idea and the twist in the tail. So I got on a different track mentally, figured out what I could summarise and infer, as well as what I wanted to show, and I began. I found that I took to the flash style instantly and had a great time writing the story. It’s also a nice feeling when you start something and finish it the very same day.

I showed the story to my friend Earl, who is often kind enough to edit my fiction. I was a little apprehensive about it, because recently he edited the first chapter of a novel I’m toying with, and he brought to light so many flaws that I started feeling deflated about the sheer scope of the task ahead. But it turns out that Earl loved this new story, and the only edits needed were minor ones. I may have found a style that suits me better than long-form prose.

Here’s “Mind Out of Time,” if you’d like to read it. Let me know what you think, positive or negative.

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