Paul Schiernecker

Category: Other

  • What are the things people do when they aren’t writing a book?

    I’m one of those terrible people who just constantly goes on about the thing that they’re doing. I’m going to be wanky and call it ‘being an artist’.

    The problem is, everyone is doing something, and it’s very hard to get your voice heard. That’s why this morning I’ve conducted myself in a way I would usually hang, draw and quarter anyone else for by just spamming everything with links to my book’s page on Amazon. It’s here by the way. 
    Now I’ve told as many people as I think I can tell without getting really creepy about it I am left with the terrible lonely sensation of job completion. It’s an unusual thing, especially for me because I’m a sucker for never seeing anything through to a conclusion. There are so many things I leave up in the air that it feels strange to sit here knowing my product is complete and live and purchasable (for the very reasonable price of £4.99). 

    The thing is I’ve wanted to get Where Did All The Money Go finished so I could allow myself to get lost in another project, I think it’s just a bit too soon, like having my heart broken. I have so many other ideas, and I can’t wait to step away from the dick and fart jokes I imposed upon myself with WDATMG and Situation 1. The two most immediate projects are redrafting Visions Of Violet, the book I wrote for NaNoWriMo last November and finishing the comedy show I’m co-writing. Those are the top two, and then everything else falls in under that. 

    I can’t imagine a life where I don’t constantly have something to be getting on with, it’s how I choose to function and I’m very happy in that. 

  • Project 333 – one month in.

    So a month ago today I started on my own Project 333. 
    You’ll want to read that post first, it’s here. 
    Today I am allowing myself some adaptation to it all. 
    I will still keep 33 items of clothing in my wardrobe but the last month has taught me a little more about my wearing habits than I had expected. 

    I started with:
    7 t-shirts
    4 jumpers
    4 cardigans
    7 shirts
    2 pairs of jeans
    1 pair of shorts (because I’m hoping for a summer at some point this year)
    2 coats
    1 jacket
    1 blazer
    1 necklace
    1 earring
    2 pairs of shoes

    There are some of those items I am yet to wear, and I can put this down to any number of reasons. Despite limiting my wardrobe, I feel I have improved it. Each time I go to put something on, it’s something I want to wear, I don’t have to pile a bunch of stuff out of the way in order to get to ‘that’ t-shirt, or whatever else it may be.
    What I have learnt is that I do wear a t-shirt pretty much every day, with a combination of the other items I have allowed myself. This has left me with the dilemma of often running out of t-shirts (because if it is a running day I hadn’t set aside work out t-shirts). If the washing doesn’t get done for a week (as is often the case at Schiernecker Towers (we’ve got a lot going on)) then I am pretty stumped when it comes to choosing clothes. I have therefore given myself two extra t-shirts.
    Of course, under the rules of Project 333 I have to only wear 33 items. This means getting rid of something. Despite my clean looking cupboard there are still shirts and jumpers I favour above others so I have cut one shirt, and one jumper in favour of two t-shirts. I also fancy a change to the two pairs of shoes I allowed myself so I’m shopping in my long winter coat (which was a bit of an oversight for an April – July Project 333) and am getting my desert boots out. 

    When I am done with all this, I still don’t think I could go back to having as much stuff as I did. There are clear favourites, and on 12 July I am going to make a conscious effort to give as much away to charity as I can, and then make sure I have more of my uniform items. 

    Another issue I thought I would have is people noticing I am always in the same thing. That hasn’t happened once. I can go a week without repeating, two if I wear every t-shirt once, and every shirt once, but it hasn’t come to anyone’s attention, at least not to the point where they have commented on it. 

    If you’re thinking about doing this, joining in, then you should. It’s becoming a really interesting experience. It’s a very cathartic process and means you can shift focus to where it is needed.

  • 21.

    Today is my baby brother’s 21st birthday. 
    It’s really strange to think of him as an adult. I don’t know if I ever will truly be able to grasp it. He certainly doesn’t act like it a lot of the time. When I think about how we were when we were little, and how much I doted on him and how much he adored me in return, I’m saddened by the way things have to change but spending time with him, and my other brother, and their friends last night just shows that things changing is not necessarily a bad thing. We all have our own things going on, but when thrown together everything we have shared in the last two decades is inherent in it, it sits between us and it’s a fantastic thing to be a part of.

    I feel very lucky to get along with my siblings. I know far too many people who for a number of different reasons don’t have that same relationship. There really is nothing like a brother. 

     

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  • Proof copy of my book arrives.

  • To the marathon.

    I am shattered. I just walked a mile to catch the train to London.
    I am going to watch the marathon today, and I am obviously being satirical, although I did have to pace it because I spent far too long lost in my own reflection this morning.
    Two very good friends are running today and I’m off to offer my own brand of enthusiastic support.
    I’m reminded of when one of them, L, asked me, two other friends and his brother in law, to come with him to the site of a skydive he was doing for the same charity he is running for today, Little Havens. We mercilessly bullied him for two hours, and his parting words were “just fuck off”. If he had died it would have made a fitting epitaph.

    As it turns out, both L and my other friend D are running for Little Havens. I wonder if they have met, I wonder if they have worked each other out yet. I wonder if they know they both know me. I assume so.
    Little Havens is a great charity. I did some work with them last summer, and wish I could do more. I always wish I could do more. For those who don’t know, they offer a hospice service for terminally ill children and an incredible support network for the families involved. Just describing it that far forms a lump in my throat.

    I had every intention of being with them today, although I did have vague hopes of running as well. I applied for a place last October but didn’t make the cut. In hindsight it could be a blessing because to date the furthest I have run is six miles, maybe I’ll be in a better state by next April. I know I’ll apply again later this year.
    There is also the issue of splitting my charity donations. This year I am trekking across the Sahara and raising money for The Prince’s Trust. People are reluctant enough to donate money they would otherwise be wasting to one worthwhile cause, let alone two. Next year I’ll have another crack at the marathon thing, and support a different charity. It’s hard to focus on any one when there is so much hardship.

    In terms of today though I am already so proud of L and D. They both applied under the assumption I would get a place and we could train and support one another. I’m there to support them, and to show them I am a man of my word. Far too many people I know have flaked today. TAW and I will be there though, screaming and waving like a right pair of cotton-headed ninny muggins.

    I went with L to register for the marathon on Thursday evening when I finished work. Registration was held at the Excel centre (“BACK ON THE DLR!” as I like to scream to the tune of Back In The USSR). There was a real buzz to the place as proper athletes sauntered about with the kind of prowess only superheroes should be able to exhibit when dressed solely in Lycra. There were stalls for specialist clothing, stalls for specialist dietary requirements, stalls for supplements, stalls for footwear. We stood about like a couple of comfy airsoles!

    As soon as registration was complete and we got outside, L asked me if I fancied a beer. I wondered ever so briefly if he should be drinking three days before the marathon. As soon as we got inside he asked the barmaid if they had a cigarette machine. He thinks he is the Sid Vicious of the marathon. I just don’t want him to become a statistic.

    I hope I get a good look at them today, and I hope they’ve vaseline’d every square inch of their bodies, and they should know everyone is supporting them.
    It’ll be like the end of Return Of The Jedi when Obi Wan, Yoda and Anakin/Darth are stood grinning at Luke.
    I’m talking Guinness Obi Wan and Shaw Anakin, I’m not buying all this CGI booster pack addition. Leave it be Lucas, leave it be.

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    Good luck today guys, and to everyone else taking part, and may the force be with you!

  • Project 333.

    Last night I went through my wardrobe and chest of drawers, packed up two thirds of their contents into two suitcases and put them in the loft.
    Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. It’s an experiment in the minimalist lifestyle.

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    For the last couple of months I have been harping on at people about the benefits of clearing out the junk and clutter which make up our lives. I haven’t done anything entirely foolish, I’ve stuck to an ethos to help me work out what to keep, and what to discard.
    It’s in part thanks to reading about The Minimalists. I haven’t reached the zen levels they continue to aspire to, but I do feel better without quite so much junk around.

    I have noticed it helps if I keep my work space free of items when I’m writing. They serve not only to distract me from what I should be doing but as a reminder that there are other things going on beside the world I am typing out.
    There are some things I still can’t let go of. My shelves are full of books and DVDS, despite having made several attempts to clear out stuff I don’t read or watch.

    My rule is, if I use it or I derive enjoyment from it, it can stay.

    So what is Project 333 and what has it got to do with the fresh luggage in the loft?
    The best description can be found on their website. As I said, it is an experiment. From my own point of view I have noticed there are items I don’t wear but don’t seem capable of throwing away like I have with everything else which adds nothing to my life.
    I read about Project 333 on Wednesday and knew straight away it was something I needed to do.
    The idea is you reduce your clothing (including shoes, jewellery and outerwear but not including sleepwear/loungewear or gym clothes) down to just 33 items, and use only those for 3 months.

    When I first read about it, I wasn’t sure how 33 items of clothing would look, and whether people would notice I always seemed to be in the same thing but having spoken to my brother about it last night he described it as being ‘ten outfits’ which makes sense, and is probably essentially what I wear anyway. Within that there are a number of combinations. The point is to take the things you like wearing, and only wear those items.
    It has the potential to be beneficial.
    If you buy any new clothes during the period you have to wait until the time is up to wear them so you weigh up whether it is worth the money and the wait. If anything gets damaged you can replace it but the aim is to be imaginative and work with what you have got.

    I mentioned the concept to my Sahara buddy Terri and she didn’t seem keen on the idea of limiting things off in such a way although she concluded she probably only wore 33 items in her wardrobe (not including jewellery, shoes or outerwear).
    To be honest I can appreciate the whole idea may be easier for men than it would be for woman. There isn’t quite as much focus on men’s fashion, or it doesn’t seem to hit me anyway. I think it is entirely doable for anyone if you think through your choices.
    This is Terri’s wardrobe:

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    I had to think about what would be happening in the next three months and what needs I would have, clothing wise, between now and then. I am fortunate in that I can wear what I like to ‘the office’ so I don’t have to worry about Burton suits and comedy ties and smart shoes and fake Barbour jackets and whatever else people who work in offices seem to wear.
    The only thing I have extensively planned for the next three months is when I go to Glastonbury in June. I will probably be wearing t-shirts and jeans, and surprise, surprise, that’s what my 33 are composed of.

    So here’s what I have to work with for the next 91 days.
    7 t-shirts
    4 jumpers
    4 cardigans
    7 shirts
    2 pairs of jeans
    1 pair of shorts (because I’m hoping for a summer at some point this year)
    2 coats
    1 jacket
    1 blazer
    1 necklace
    1 earring
    2 pairs of shoes

    Unless I have made a massive oversight I think this is all I ever wear, and all I should need for the time being.
    If the combination doesn’t work after a month I may jiggle a couple of items, but try to keep on the magic 33.

    I’ll keep you updated on my progress and if you are interested I recommend you visit Project 333 for more information and support.

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  • ‘David Bowie Is…’ Exhibition – V&A Museum.

    The three albums which define my early childhood are REM’s Monster, David Bowie’s Hunky Dory and Jason Donavan’s Ten Good Reasons. Luckily for all concerned I became disenfranchised with the latter before I was ever asked what my favourite albums were.
    The first two, meanwhile, are entirely down to my parents, who would permeate bathtime with glam rock hits by The Sweet, T-Rex and David Bowie.
    They saw Bowie on his Glass Spiders tour. Being that I was busy being a baby they didn’t take me with them, a gripe I have kicked up with them ever since. The reason I mention all this is to show how deep the lightening bolt runs, how indebted I am to David Robert Jones, and how much it meant to me when my own Lady Stardust managed to get us tickets for the exhibition of his extensive work and wardrobe at the Victoria & Albert Museum in South Kensington.

    The first two things to be aware of about the exhibit are as follows; the audio guide was put together by Tony Visconti and is like aural sex, and you aren’t allowed to take photos. If you were then it would have taken us five hours to get around rather than the two and a half hour lap time we managed.

    The exhibition covers Bowie’s career from his fledgling performances as Davie Jones and the King Bees right the way through to The Next Day. Along the way the provided headphones pick up sensors linked to particular events, videos or interviews and play them through. It’s amazing to think it is all the product of one man’s imagination and the literary depths he pulled from. Beforehand I was unaware Diamond Dogs was Bowie’s attempt to create his own dystopian landscape after being refused the rights to make a musical based on Orwell’s 1984.

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    There are so many aspects to Bowie both as a performer and as a man. It’s incredible to see it all collated, and to wonder where it has been hiding for all of these years. Why the cocaine spoon he used during his Ziggy phase isn’t on a revolving plinth in the British Museum is beyond me.
    I think one of the nicest things to see was the range of people drawn in, admiring his work, his art, his prowess. It’s not something many are able to do. Everything the man has ever done has been with nothing but self respect and grace, he’s never said to much, he’s never been in it for the money and it shows because a decade on from Reality, people were ripping each other apart to get hold of the new Bowie album.
    I read a review in The Guardian which claimed the exhibit was in some ways a way of cashing in or was just a promotional tool for the album but if the exhibition were to open anywhere and at any time it would receive exactly the same reaction. The same could be said for the album.

    One of my favourite pieces was the room dedicated to Bowie in film. There’s a small cinema area screening scenes from his various on screen appearances; as Tesla, as Warhol, as Jareth. There’s a handwritten note from Jim Henson which accompanied the first draft of Labyrinth, for which Bowie was always in mind for, plus his crystal ball.

    The exhibition is one of the most startling and encompassing things I have experienced and it was made all the more powerful by the fact it felt so exclusive within my own headphone world.
    Within us all are those separate parts, the characters who want to glam up, and those who want to shy away. Bowie managed to cross back and forth between the two, teaching people it was okay to dress up, to want to look and feel and be different. It’s in part inspired a movement and a realisation and I’m so glad to have felt the bolt strike me.
    It seems a million miles from BBC reports of the time addressing Bowie as some kind of (space) oddity and questioning his popularity, sexuality and performance.

    We all need those small acts of rebellion and Bowie helped a lot of people to accept theirs.
    Today I am wearing my girlfriend’s earring. It will mostly go unnoticed but to me, I’m a rebel rebel.

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  • It’s all happening.

    I am pleased to announce things seem to be storming forwards on the short stories front. I have found an amazing designer to put together something, and I am really impressed with how well he has read the vibe of the book and come up with something unassuming which should make people turn back to it and go ‘Ohh, that makes a whole lot more sense’.
    I finished redrafting at about half three this morning and instantly sent the book to as many people as I could find in my inbox who might be interested. This morning even more people on Facebook and Twitter have expressed an interest so I’m hoping I will have something to show for all these restless nights.

    I think when it’s all finalised I might take a little break before starting in on the next thing. I have so many plans and so many things to do but I can’t keep going like this. I’ll take Easter to relax, and think about how my lot killed your Lord and then I will start in on the next phase of operation Schiernecker.

    My thanks to everyone who now has a copy of Where Did All The Money Go? in their inbox.
    I look forward to your thoughts, tips, reviews, whatever.

    Peace&love.

  • Little privileged us.

    It’s hard to think of yourself as being privileged. We are raised to want, to crave, to keep up with the Jones’s.
    if you were to be placed in a line of privilege however, against everyone else in the world, I think you would be surprised.
    There are so many people in the world who spend every day trying to make it through, just trying to survive that day. Making sure they can get enough food to get by. Trying to ensure they have somewhere to sleep.
    The fact we don’t need to worry about those things means we are privileged.
    It should be a right for every person to have shelter and fresh water but unfortunately that isn’t the world we live in yet.

    When you think about it, the tenner you donated to Comic Relief because Harry Styles crying and holding a baby with malaria made you cry is the tip of the iceberg of what you could afford to give.
    There are so many occasions where I look through my bank statement and can’t work out why I needed to withdraw yet more funds. If we all just took a moment to think about how wasteful we are, and how lucky we are then maybe it would push us all to give a little more to people who can’t order in a Domino’s when they ‘can’t be bothered to cook’ or buy a new shirt or dress for each weekend so they don’t look the same in their Facebook photos.

    We are selfish. We could do so much more. Why don’t we?

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  • Good things come to those who….

    Tick followed tock followed tick followed tock.
    Black and white footage of horses on the incoming surf.
    A pint of the black stuff.
    There’s a lot to be made of it.
    As a nation, and especially as a generation we are far too impatient for our own good. I look around and see people buying things on credit because they couldn’t possibly wait until they actually had the money themselves. I see people paying over the odds for a product they won’t use before it drops into the sale. I see girls who can’t wait for their hair to grow so pay out ridiculous sums of money for real hair extensions. I wonder if we wouldn’t all be a bit better off if we didn’t jump in to our decisions as quickly as possible.

    Of course there’s a time for action, I’m not saying every choice in your life needs to be sat upon but the majority of the money we spend is wasted, and a lot of that I believe is down to an inability to wait. Tired of wasting too much money in the weekend immediately proceeding my monthly payday I decided whenever I wanted something I would add it to a wish list instead of buying it straight off. A month later I could decide if it was something I still wanted or whether it had just been a passing fancy. The fact of the matter is by the time you reach your mid-twenties you are pretty set for the things you need, and everything else is simply something you want.
    I want more books. I have shelves full of them but I want more.
    I want a new car, but until I can afford one and until my current ride (Pancetta) is no longer fit for purpose that simply won’t happen.
    I want a house, but until I have the money I am entirely stuck.

    Another example is the kind of benign platitudes that fill Facebook of a Monday morning.
    ‘Want to stay in bed’
    ‘Why isn’t it the weekend’
    ‘Sometimes I wish I could gun down everyone in my office like the Boomtown Rats song’.
    Without the week you are so dreading you cannot get to a weekend. Without getting up and facing that Monday morning you claim to be dreading there will be no Saturday or Sunday. Without going to work there will be no money for you to waste on that weekend.
    The ugly truth is most people spend the week griping about how it isn’t the weekend yet and then fill their bodies with drink and drugs to a point they forget the majority of the weekend anyway.

    When you strip all of the wants away, there is really only a very limited amount you actually need to keep going.
    Stop just taking. Start waiting.