As I'm sat here, it's just gone half midnight. Pissing with rain outside, flashes of lightning through the curtains, the rumble of thunder. Some serious shit. At least all my beta work is done: I've done a peer read of a novella, and a beta for another novella - this from author/editor Andrew Wilmot. This holiday weekend, there's still shitloads to do, but I feel much better about the fact that now I've handled shit for everyone else, I can get back to MY work.
Last weekend, I was across town in Bishopsgate with the likes of Phil Sloman, Marie O'Regan, Paul Kane, Steve Shaw, David Watkins and (albeit briefly) Eric Ian Steele. Shop talk and hanging out. Anyhow. It was about a week before that that I was out in Dominican Republic for some R&R.
Be it known that I'm not a sun-worshipper, by any stretch of the imagination. My friend Ash had swung us time in a resort of palm trees, blue pools, poolside parties and thatched huts, along with other similar low buildings of bright colour to reflect light and heat. Let's not forget the peacocks roaming the resort, crowing and putting on display for the peahens. Mosquitoes. Dragonfly. Ducks and waders. Even an iguana.
The people in Dom Rep are friendly enough, the women are gorgeous: thick and curvy. The beaches were lively in the heat of the day: with people getting their tan on, playing on the beach or in the sea. I'd lounge in my room, basking in the air con, only to head to the beach in the late afternoon. Not only was it cooler, but there were less people. I'm not a people person at the best of times. Now, the weather grew cooler and I could sit in relative peace, watching the horizon as the waves crashed on the beach. But this was eastern exposure, which meant I wouldn't see a good sunset here: far from it. But I could see a good sunrise, if I rose early enough.
So I did. And for the last two mornings of the stay, I sat on the beach, watching the sunrise, humming Nirvana's "Come As You Are" to myself. I'm not quite sure why that song exactly - maybe because I'd being playing the bassline on the 4-string of late. And even though there were a few people on the beach at the ass-crack of dawn, it wasn't too many. I got to sit in peace and watch the sun break over the horizon. I came as I was. And it was beautiful. Because I don't ever really switch off from the author game, but yeah, this was peaceful. Beautiful.