Bloody Matchmaking (And Some Better News)

Bloody Matchmaking (And Some Better News)

There are some people in this world who insist on matchmaking. As soon as you’re distracted, or otherwise out of the way, they’re introducing you to their friends — or worse, introducing your friends to their friends, until you find yourself confused as to how, exactly, they met, let alone went off without you.

I have a friend like that. Their name is Gravity.

I don’t know how long Gravity planned this particular operation, but the moment I stepped out of consciousness for a second, they took that chance to introduce my nose to the laminate flooring of our living room. At great speed, without any warning whatsoever. And then, because Gravity is nothing if not thorough, they ensured there were lots of bloody babies as a result of this encounter.

Mostly just shocked, since I had absolutely no memory of going splat — I’d been dizzy, and then I’d been on the floor, with blood everywhere — I yelled for my dad. I’m not sure what I’d have done if I’d been alone, either because I was at uni or because my parents were out, but fortunately that wasn’t the case and Dad was able to mop up the blood, take me to the minor injuries unit at the hospital, and ascertain that if my nose was broken, it was only a tiny crack and there wasn’t anything they could do about it.

Somewhere, Gravity must be disappointed, because my nose has not developed a lifelong love for the floor. In fact, the continuous pain every time I so much as nudge it is definitely cockblocking that particular relationship. Don’t get me started on my chin, which I must also have landed on…

As breaks go, it wasn’t too major. My nose isn’t visibly wonky, or even visibly swollen, at least not more than it usually is. I wasn’t allowed to drink tea for the rest of the day, a true tragedy because I went splat while on my way to make a cup of tea, and thus my quest was well and truly scuppered by the fall. I also still can’t touch my nose without it really hurting, and I keep forgetting and wiping my eyes and nudging it with a knuckle.

I’ve learned something very important: to hurt a character it isn’t necessary to actually torture them. Just knock them face-down onto a hard floor. That’ll do the trick, even if I never appreciated exactly how much a nose could hurt until I fractured mine.

This traumatic ordeal didn’t exactly put me in a good mood, and it comes in the wake of feeling rubbish all week. Actually, I’m going to blame the meds withdrawal for the dizziness that caused the injury in the first place. It hasn’t been a productive or enjoyable few days; I’ve read less than usual, written barely anything until yesterday, and haven’t even been able to get through all of Daredevil season two yet because my headaches have been too bad.

But there’ve been a few pieces of good news.

Firstly, one of my poems appeared in volume 034 of The Dawntreader, a quarterly poetry magazine. The poem is called Lullaby for Lleu and is inspired by the story of Blodeuwedd, from the Mabinogion. While I don’t take the medieval Welsh modules that ASNaC offers, I’ve always been fascinated/terrified by Blodeuwedd — I distinctly remember nightmares brought on by The Owl Service by Alan Garner when I was a lot younger. You can read the poem here. While not a paid piece, it’s still nice to have some publishing credits under my belt, and it’s encouraged me to start looking for more poetry magazines to submit to.

Perhaps more excitingly (depending on your perspective), for the first time in years I have enough shelves for all my books. Admittedly, many of them are stacked horizontally or in other space-saving Tetris-like formations, but the overflow shelf in the corridor that was previously absolutely full now has a shelf and a bit free. Which is … awesome. At the most recent count, I found I own about 443 books, which is a lot of books to fit in one relatively small bedroom, and it’s only by the addition of yet another shelf that this current situation is possible.

I’ve been asking my dad if he’d build me another shelf for a while now (he built my main shelves, the white ones seen in the background of my videos, and most of my other wall shelves are his work, although IKEA can take the credit for one of the standing units and a few others have a similar provenance). However, wall shelves aren’t easy to put up in our house because of pipes or thin walls or not wanting to put books against an outside wall due to damp and so on and so forth.

I came up with the idea to build a unit that would stand on top of my chest of drawers because in my old room (next door) I had a similar piece of furniture. It would be practical, economical with the space available, and not too complicated. The four-day Easter weekend is DIY heaven, so we headed out to B&Q yesterday, bought some wood, and Dad built it. I’d like to say I helped, but mostly I just fetched and carried and occasionally held pieces of wood still.


The result is a fairly simple unit that gives me an extra shelf (I was previously using the top of the chest of drawers as a makeshift shelf anyway, but this is neater and more practical) and allowed me to tidy up my other non-fiction shelves — there are pictures on the “Shelfies” page of my book blog.

Finally, I added a couple more chapters to Bard on Wattpad, and redesigned the cover about five times. The one currently on the site was my second redesign, but I had a bunch of failures that came after that too because what I wanted was just a little bit too elaborate for my complete lack of photo-editing skills. Recent chapters include the realisation that Lynn’s pockets are apparently endless; I also noticed that Lynn tends to just do stuff for the sake of it, like hacking into satellites without a clue what she’s going to do next. It’s a personality trait that entertains me, and should have lots of potential later in the book.

No, I still don’t really have a plot, but I’m gradually building on the bare bones of one.

second new cover for bard(2)

So, I think that’s all my news for the last few days: a published poem, a new shelf, some more writing, and a broken nose. I don’t know if I’ll write between now and flying out to Canada on Tuesday, so if not, I hope you have a great Easter weekend whether you celebrate it or not and I’ll see you soon.


8 thoughts on “Bloody Matchmaking (And Some Better News)

  1. You know I think we have the same friend. Gravity, along with his (her?) buddy Ice, worked together to introduce my cheek to the Sidewalk a year ago. Broke my face. I didn’t even get a cool black eye out of it.

    1. Gravity, what a dickhead. I didn’t get a black eye either, which I guess is just as well because I’m about to fly to Canada and with everything that’s been going on I expect security will be extra tight — best if I look like my passport photo! I actually don’t have any visible face bruises, despite the nose and chin pain. I don’t bruise very easily, it turns out.

  2. Hope your nose heals up nice and swiftly, and that your new shelf was sort of a recompense. I’m lucky enough that my new Christmas bookshelf was big enough to hold all the overflow and now has room for more! Which I am definitely not taking as any sort of challenge…

    1. But now you guys have your own house rather than an army one, you can start to build a collection without fearing you’ll have to leave half of it behind in two years, right? You should definitely take it as a challenge…

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