Tag Archives: blogging

Mr Point’n’Shoot?

Mr Point’n’Shoot is the photographs-only blog that I’ve decided to start. It’s in the early stages, but I’ve thrown a few pictures on it – just to get it out there in the blogosphere. So there is something to see – including an About page. If you fancy a look, just click Mr Point’n’Shoot now!

Tooty’s Been Thinking

Look at the following picture…

There goes Tooty, out in the frosty morning air, with two of his bridge cameras nestling together in his camera bag. See the lengths he goes to to bring you lovely pictures of stuff. Then, having digested that, look at this…

Well bugger me there he goes again – braving terrible winter conditions with his pockets crammed with waterproof compact cameras. What a guy. Which brought him to thinking about this blog. As much as readers swoon over his fabulous scripts and wondrous tales of derring do – not to mention Tooty the Chef of course; he couldn’t help but notice that it’s this sort of thing…

…that float reader’s boats as much as this sort of thing…

…or, dare I say it, this sort of thing…

So, he thought, how would it be for you – the reader of this blog – if he were to start a second blog that featured only the results of his photo-snapping exploits out in the real world? Stuff like this…

Sounds okay? Want him to do it? If so, he’ll take your positive comments and clicks on the Like button as approval, and looks forward to delving through his ENORMOUS back-catalogue. It’s about the only thing of his that is enormous*, except perhaps his over-inflated opinion of his talents. Comment and click at your leisure.

*Actually there is his prostate gland; but he doesn’t liked to boast; just dribble.

Call Me Irresponsible

Call me irresponsible at your liesure. Refer to me as a country bumpkin even. Or an old fool. Failing that – ‘a complete twonk’ or ‘high-end wally’, would suffice. Any of the above would be fitting.

“Oh, no, Tooty.” I hear you gasp, “What have you done?”

What I’ve done is this: I had completely forgotten that anyone can read this blog. Once upon a time it bore a content warning beneath the header. But over the years – what with the child-friendly versions of the Earplug Adventures replacing the foul-mouthed originals – and more and more ‘safe’ blogs about photography and cooking appearing, I’d allowed that warning to disappear. Well now it’s back – up there, beneath the header. Take a look. It doesn’t absolve me from responsibility for the Revel in the Ribaldry and Bare-Assed Chef posts, but at least it has warned the more sensitive – and just plain ‘young‘ – readers off. Oh dear, I do feel guilty. Sorry, Dulcy.

P.S Darn it: now I can’t use that ‘dildo’ extract from Danglydong Dell Diaries! I was looking forward to that.

Gone – But Not Forgotten

Every so often it becomes neccessary for me to remove lovingly crafted posts from this blog. I do so because I have a data limit of 3GB. As I approach this limit, WordPress suggest that I pay extra for more space: so something has to go. On this occaision it’s three beloved Earplug Adventures. To be precise it’s this three…

I’m sorry to see them go. But fear not, because they live on as E-Books, which are  available at most e-book retailers, including all the big boys. 

Curtains? No: But I’m Having Second Thoughts

By chance I discovered a post of mine that dated  from September 2017. It was titled Curtains For The Earplug Adventures? And this is how it looked…

Fear not, Earpluggers: the Earplug Adventures will continue, though at a reduced pace henceforth. Had I written this post yesterday, the title would have been a question mark short. In fact it would have been replaced by an exclamation mark. Yesterday I all but decided to quit writing my photo-novels entirely; but, being a sensible fellow (beneath this tomfoolery), I chose to give myself twenty-four hours to cogitate upon the subject.

“Oh, Tooty, what could have caused this almost-monumental decision?” I hear you cry into your coffee / beer/ wine / vimto / lavatory bowl. “Why, oh why, would you want to deny the world your fabulous literary/photographic delights?”

Well the evening hadn’t started well: I’d wanted to watch Star Trek: The Original Series, but the magic box beneath my TV said: “No – not unless you want me to stop recording either Bones or Medium.” Then the cistern in my bathroom decided to form a small boating lake on the floor beside the lavatory. So things weren’t going well when I decided to Google myself. Naturally (having punched in Tooty Nolan) I found page after page of my nonsense on sale – often on sites that I’d never heard of (and which make me wonder why I’m not receiving the royalties I might be due). Then I discovered that back in my dark depressive days – or 2013 to be more precise – I’d joined Goodreads. I’d even posted some book extracts there. Then I noted the absence of my 2014 novel Silent Resistance, and duly elected to add it to my listings there. But when I began a casual meander through the book in search of a suitable extract, I discovered that during the subsequent three years – all of which have been Earplug Adventures years, I might add – I’ve become a lousy writer. No wonder I felt the need to abandon my third Causality Merchant novel – Broker Me No Future: I can’t write anymore.  And what was it that I found in Silent Resistance that so disillusioned me? It was this paragraph…

When morning finally revealed the new day it was quite unlike those of recent times.  Although the sun was winter-weak, wisps of steam rose from the sodden wooden walls of a nearby barn into a perfectly clear azure sky. Likewise the early morning mist that slowly retreated from the surrounding fields and dissipated into nothingness. And the broad leaf trees of a distant thicket shone in glorious shades of orange and yellow, and were perfectly counterpointed by the sombre greens of a scattering of conifers amongst them.

I breathed deeply in the clear country air – something that was becoming more and more prevalent since the demise of industry, the motor car, and people. I could almost imagine that this was one year previous, and soon my sister would join me as I searched through the orchard for late fallers.

My reverie was interrupted by the arrival of Colin in the farmyard. He was studying the AA roadmap as he trudged from the farmhouse.

“Hey,” he called, “I’ve found a route back that doesn’t involve us going anywhere near anywhere we’ve already been. It’s a bit ‘round-the-houses…”

“Circumbendibus.” I interrupted.

“Circum-what?” He inquired as he came to a dead stop.

I repeated the word. “It means ‘round-the-houses.” I explained.

I think he was going to argue, but it being early in the day he thought better of it.

“Oh, right.” He said as he recommenced walking towards me. “Well I’ve found a route to that co-operative of yours that shouldn’t take too long – just as long as nothing gives us gip.”

It was my turn to exhibit ignorance. “Gip?” I said.

“Trouble. Pain. Inconvenience.” Colin explained. “A broken leg would give you gip; but in another way so would a broken-down car.”

“Got it.” I said. “Gip bad: we no want.”

“Yeah.” Colin responded – his expression clearly indicating that he thought I’d gone mad.

But any opportunity for us to swap examples of our personal lexicons was interrupted by the bus engine stuttering into life.

“How’s the fuel supply?” I shouted to Kylie as she leaned out of the driver’s window to wave hello.

After giving her dashboard a quick scrutiny she called back, “Loads. More than we need to get us where we want to go.”

“And afterwards?” I pressed.

Her face dropped. “Who says there’s gonna be an afterwards? We’ll worry about that when the time comes.”

I nodded without replying: it was time to rouse the others.

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2014

Well there you have it. I need…no MUST…get back to that standard of story telling. So, from now on, it’s less earplugs and more ‘proper’ writing – if I still can of course. A good place to start would be that unfinished novel. Now I wonder where I’ve stashed it away.

P.S This book is available as an e-book pretty much everywhere (take your pick), and as a paperback and e-book at Lulu (see Lulu logo on side bar).

Well it didn’t happen, did it? I didn’t dig out Broker Me No Future after all. But since my broken promise to myself that feeling has returned. I know where the unfinished manuscript is: I found at the bottom of my shoe basket recently. I am gonna do it. Honest! So sorry, Earpluggers, I think the little silicon guys will need to take a back seat for a while. Let’s see if I can still write. Watch this space!

 

Dwindling Numbers

Having the misfortune of being a literary genius and international author of vast repute, it’s not often that I find the time to drag my attention away from all the wondrous creations that have sprung from my ageing, yet still fertile imagination and actually scan the WWW for signs of life, particularly in the blogs that I used to follow in the early days (when I was still relatively new to this blogging thing). Well today I found that time and I was shocked. They’ve been (mostly) deleted or abandoned. Their creators, it seems, had simply given up in the face of planetary indifference. So I took a wander through more recent blogs. In many cases their authors are lamenting about falling readership. Some are considering calling it a day. Others remind me of the old axiom: ‘If it isn’t working, try something else’. This gave me cause to pause, as it were, in the pursuit of readership and – hopefully – commensurate book sales. I logged on to my publishers’ web site and checked out my book sales. Ten books sold in July – seven of which were freebies. Not good. Then I compared the numbers of visitors to this blog. Disappointment turned to concern; despite the fact that the number of ‘followers’ have continued to slowly increase, those reading my literary and photographic efforts have fallen spectacularly. People really do seem to be giving up on the Internet – or at least WordPress. In May 2017 I had 3600 visits. The same month in the following year saw only 1800 readers call by. This May I got just 524 visits. By June I was down to 302. I know Summer is never a good time: people have other things to do; so I was slightly relieved to discover that July hasn’t been quite so bad. As of the moment I’m up to a heady 767 hits. On Flickr figures are better; but I can’t post stories and comedy there – although I do air a few Earplug Adventure photos to mix it up a little. So, with dwindling numbers, I’m beginning to question the logic of continuing HamsterBritain.com. But I don’t want to stop promoting my serious fiction, hamster-fiction, or earplug silliness. That would be a crime against humanity – wouldn’t it? Maybe it’s time to try something else. Any suggestions?

Tooty

It’s the Earplugs Fifth Anniversary! Well Nearly.

Mooching back through my few remaining ‘old’ blog posts, I found this, from August 2014…

As you’ve probably guessed, it’s been a little quiet at work recently. Although this is an unfortunate situation, I’ve made it tolerable by allowing my creative juices to flow and doing what I do best – that is thinking up really silly rude stuff. The result – The Ear Plugs.

tooty nolan holds picture

Whadda ya think so far?

I can’t believe I’ve been shooting these daft pictures and writing this ridiculous prose for a full half-decade. Interestingly, the rude aspect of the stories was shelved early on. I don’t know if that’s good or bad. But, whatever, the Earplug Adventures continue to roll. Honestly, don’t I have something better to do?

And the question still stands: Whadda ya think so far?

Re-Blog: Preparing to Dash Through a Forest of Triffids

I first posted this a handful of years past. Having discovered it among the older files, here it is again…

Thank you, John Wyndham, for the inspiration.

triffids

Had I not read the works of the aforementioned, I would never have written Silent Apocalypse.

Annotation: Strange that, at the time, I didn’t add the cover photo. Not feeling particularly mercenary, I guess. Maybe I’d sold a couple of copies that week. Well I don’t have that luxury now: let’s put that right!

And just for good measure…the sequel!

Pretentious? Moi?

There I was, Googling myself, when, hey presto, I discover that I’m one of those wise asses who expound their opinions and display spurious knowledge upon the Internet. I wrote this, upon someone else’s blog, in 2014…

“No two writers are alike. I’m not sure that one writer (however successful) can really teach another ‘how to do it’. In the end we all find our own voice.”

Have you read my stuff? Earplugs and hamsters, for heck’s sake. How pretentious can I get?

Oh yes – that pretentious!