Kirkland Ciccone

Author of Happiness Is Wasted On Me, writer of Scottish fiction, auld punk, bookshop botherer, library lurker, and tea swigger. This is my blog.

The New Abnormal

I haven’t been able to update my blog in a while for a few reasons. Chiefly, my beloved dog passed away. I knew it was coming, but that doesn’t make it easier, does it? I’m fine, but the world feels very strange. It feels strange anyway, with the Lockdown happening around me, but little moments that not even Lockdown could take away are suddenly gone. My routine is forever changed. I don’t need to wake up at a certain time to take my dog out. When I pass the pet food aisle in the supermarket, I can keep walking without pausing to buy her dinner. Her water doesn’t constantly need replenished. She’s not here to sit by my feet as I write. But it had to happen. She was fifteen and very ill, despite being healthy her entire life. Old age gets everyone and everything, doesn’t it? She fell asleep immediately, so quickly even the vet seemed surprised. Her heart was weak, apparently. I never knew that, if only because she was always very happy. Goodness, she never barked. I can count the amount of times she barked in fifteen years in two hands. I’ve been writing in short bursts, which is what I tend to do anyway. The world is slowly returning to (ab)normal but life will be very different for me now matter what happens.

My debut novel for adults is still coming in October. Have you pre-ordered it yet? With bookshops starting to open again, I’m looking forward to getting out there. Happiness Is Wasted On Me is the first but certainly not the last adult novel I’ve written. There’s another one. Unfortunately (or fortunately) it’s a Covid-19 novel, but a funny one. Is that something people would be interested in? Will publishers be interested? What if it doesn’t sell? I’ll attempt it anyway. I started work on something new last week. It’s been easier for me to fill my time with work and reading. Oh God, the amount of books I’ve read during Lockdown. I finished off Filth yesterday. Irvine Welsh is brilliant when he’s inspired. It’s disgusting, repulsive, vile, filthy…and very funny. Will I burn in hell for enjoying myself while reading it?

I’ve had my poor iPod working overtime too. Annie’s back. One of my favourite artists is back with a new album after a ten year gap. Annie never disappoints. Her new single American Cars is sublime. Just perfect. I’ve also been listening to Dubstar, Siouxsie And The Banshees, Sleeper, and The Fall. They suit my current mood, which isn’t as bleak as I’m making it sound. It’s nothing that a good haircut and some time in Glasgow, Stirling, or Edinburgh can’t fix. Goodness, even the simple pleasures of going to a pal’s house to watch a film and have a cuppa or a takeaway have been robbed from me and everyone else in the world. While chatting with Alex (Nye, the author and a good friend) we decided we’d meet as soon as the cafes opened. I’ve been speaking to other friends and we all agree we want to see each other. Not long now, I keep telling myself. Not long now.

One response to “The New Abnormal”

  1. Spoilt Victorian Child

    Ah, Kirkland. Sorry to hear about your dog. Hope things pick up for you. Sending hugs. Normal is overrated, anyway.

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