Sunday 29 September 2013

My Poor Neglected Blog...

This poor blog. This dusty little cranny of the interwebs. It crosses my mind every now and then, and I think about how I should post something now and again. I haven't written anything here since March, which is a bloody disgrace. Really, I should start posting, or just get rid of the damn thing.

So here's what I'm thinking...

I should expand the scope of this blog beyond it's primary purpose - posting about my books and the writing life - and look at the things that excite me in the rest of my dull little universe. Of course, among those would be my family. Having a wife, two very young children, and a rather boisterous dog, I have plenty to talk about. But I think that's more what Facebook is for.

The things I find interesting, and might want to talk about, include (but are not limited to):


I really, really like beer. If I wasn't already spoken for, I would marry beer. It would be a beautiful wedding. My interest has expanded beyond casual weekend supping over the last four or five years, largely inspired by my travels in the USA, tasting the variety and scope of local brews in every city and state. It's been a struggle to find interesting beers back home, but I've discovered a few decent outlets, as well as some terrific local brewers. My wife now has to endure me blathering on about bitterness, hops, mouth feel and such. Now you get to endure the same. If I revive this blog, expect beer reviews, rants against rubbish pubs, and maybe the odd tangental restaurant review. Oh, and I'm considering getting into home brewing, so that should provide plenty to complain about.


I have been journeying through a decade-long quest for the perfect steak. I mean, a completely obsessive search for the right piece of meat, the right method, the right seasoning, the right temperature, and on and on. I have three examples in my mind of truly great steaks that I've eaten in restaurants, and all my home efforts are measured against them. And I'm getting close. This is helped by the recent discovery that I live twenty minutes away from a source of some of the best aged beef in the world. Expect talk of sea salt flakes, flame grills, and Maillard reactions. Oh, and if I married beer, I'd have steak as my mistress.


Guitars are my first love. If I married beer, and had steak as a mistress, the guitar is that school romance that haunts my middle-aged dreams. I have many guitars, most of them cheap pieces and junkers that I've fixed up and customised. There's an ever-present space in my collection for something different. Right now, I'm hankering after a good versatile acoustic, one of the new EVH striped electrics, a PRS Custom 22 or 24, and if enough of you buy my books and a movie deal ever pays off, a Gibson Custom Shop Les Paul reissue. Expect discussions of guitars I'm in the process of mangling, the virtues of various alnico magnets, string gauges and many other things to make you yawn.


And there might be the odd mention of some dodgy old classic rock, or movies I like, and now and then, something about being a writer.

But no promises. This blog post could still be sitting here come Christmas, its promises unfulfilled.