Frustration is one of my biggest weaknesses. I've never been very good at dealing with it, if I'm perfectly honest, and experience hasn't helped me mellow in the slightest when I'm genuinely frustrated. I'm still prone to shouting at something for no apparent reason, other than it's there to take my frustrations out on.
Fortunately, I do have outlets that will help me to channel frustrations. One of these is watching the Town, although this often ends in me being even more frustrated. Another is going out in the garden and booting a football about for 30 minutes. I did this a couple of times this afternoon, and right now I'm feeling pretty good.
Today's frustration came about as a result of a misbehaving story. After having an idea, I couldn't get the opening scene to do what I wanted it to. Cue me trying way too hard, the writing deteriorating and, before too long, a grunt of annoyance aimed at the computer. How hard can it be to get into the head of a mother wanting to protect her kids? It's not tough to write a good opening few lines just go get the story started, so why isn't it going to do what I want it to as it is?
Anyway, I decided to take a break over lunch, listened to a couple of short stories, had a look at what was going on in the news, and then got back to work. The story still didn't want to play ball. It felt awkward and unwieldy, and frustration again reared its head. I wouldn't be so fussed if over the last couple of days I'd been writing fluently and this was the first block I'd had for a while, but that isn't the case. It's been a tough couple of days. Perhaps it's because I've been writing from a woman's point of view. Most women would agree that I really don't know how they think. Anyway, whatever the cause, writing's been difficult this last couple of days, and so I decided to give it up as a bad job for the afternoon and do something else.
Frustration is best worked out physically, I find. There's nothing that gets rid of that anger quite like putting my foot through a football and hearing the satisfying thwack as the ball flies into the nets I still have in the back garden (and which remain there for this very reason). Before too long, the frustration had gone to be replaced with just enjoying having a ball at my feet. I was trying my usual back garden tricks - drag-backs, stepovers, flicks with the outside of my feet, using my knees and shoulders to control the ball - and thoroughly enjoyed it, if I'm honest.
It would also be worth mentioning that I probably needed the exercise. I actually had to loosen my belt for the first time ever yesterday, and I did it again this lunchtime. My target is to be in shape when uni kicks off again at the end of September so I can actually play a few games for the Gooks this season. I was going to say 'make a telling contribution' but that'd be pushing my abilities a bit far. I might play my part, but I'm not going to score and create goals by the hatful.
Another thing worth mentioning is that this evening I'll be back in front of the iMac bashing out some flash fiction. I saw a website that isn't a paying market, but which interested me and I quite fancied seeing if I could get a bit of something on there, before going back to the previous idea I was working on and also starting work on an idea for an anthology I fancy writing for.
In the mean time, tea. I'm starving.
Tuesday, 31 August 2010
Monday, 30 August 2010
Podcasting and SF's health
It's been a while since I thought particularly hard about science fiction.
Well, that opening line scared off about half of the people likely to have a read of this post. If you're still around, carry on reading, especially if you've not really read SF before. You might read about something you may want to give a try. If you're already an SF fan, you might have heard all this before, if I'm perfectly honest.
A couple of weeks ago, a friend introduced me to Escape Pod, a science fiction podcast. I didn't subscribe straight away, instead waiting a couple of days and then downloading the latest edition. It featured Eugene, by Jacob Sager Weinstein which wasn't the most engaging of stories, if I'm honest. It featured a talking dog - for want of a better phrase, as it was a little more anatomically complex - in the police force. But what got me hooked was the discussion of the piece by the editor, Mur Lafferty.
It struck me then that SF is in good hands these days. It wasn't so long ago that I thought SF was in decline. The writers of the SF Golden Age were passing. Arthur C. Clarke - perhaps the greatest of them all - died in 2008. Philip K. Dick has been dead for more than two decades. Brian W. Aldiss is still alive, but well into his twilight years. Isaac Asimov is no longer with us. There are a handful of good - occasionally nigh-on great - popular SF writers, but compared to what the genre was thirty years ago, it didn't seem to be in the rudest of health. In the US especially writers seemed more interested in writing escapist fantasy rather than intelligent SF.
In my defence, what's on the shelves at Waterstones in Huddersfield isn't necessarily the greatest selection. Intelligent SF readers in the region are at a premium, it would be fair to say, and when I was at college fantasy was all the rage amongst people who I sat around passing time with. And if it wasn't them, it was the literary snobs in English Literature who turned their nose up at anything if it hadn't won a Pulitzer. Hugos? Nebulas? Not for them.
That statement about the English Lit class is a little harsh to most of the class, really, but my point is that nobody read SF. Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke, Dick, etc, were all alien names, when I have the feeling that 30 years ago they were at least known and respected, if not widely read by 'literary' people.
I'm getting off-topic. The point is that I felt SF wasn't where it should be. Magazines had declined following the advent of easily-available internet on top of the decline of intelligent SF on the shelves of bookshops.
But I'm pleased to report that my fears are far from the truth. Yes, the SF magazine has declined over recent years. Until recently I didn't know where to pick up the biggest SF magazine in Britain, and if I wanted to get a copy of Interzone from the shops it would involve a trek to Leeds, a round trip of some 30-odd miles. However, we see short stories available on the internet, often for free. I downloaded a magazine in PDF form - The Literary Hatchet - the other day, and found it to be fairly high-quality. Perhaps the stories weren't to my taste, but there is good short fiction out there to be read.
Going back to Escape Pod, it's been brilliant to subscribe to it and have a new short story arrive in audio form for free once a week. Short fiction has been something I've neglected in the past, so having this available to me to listen to has been a godsend. I've been listening through the back episodes and subscribing to other podcasts as well - Pseudopod and Starship Sofa, the former of which is horror rather than SF - and what has struck me most isn't the high quality. It's been the passion of the people behind it, the labour of love that each and every story is.
I have a feeling that this sort of presentation is the future of SF. The passion of the people behind these podcasts - and the fact that they work in symbiosis with each other, rather than competing per se - leaves SF with a rosy future. Perhaps now we're seeing a lull, because some of these SF writers I've been listening to stories from are exceptionally talented people.
One thing is that the podcasts need donations to survive. As much as we all want to receive everything for free, people providing services do need to survive, and it's only right that writers and other contributors are paid for their work. I may not be able to donate right now (I'm a skint student, for heaven's sake), but once I'm financially stable, I'll probably be donating £5 or £10 a month. If each person who listens to it does something similar, maybe we'll see these podcasts improve and thrive even more than they are now.
So search for Escape Pod, Pseudopod, Starship Sofa and Cast Macabre (amongst others) on the iTunes Music Store, in the podcasts section. Subscribe. And enjoy. And many thanks to Matthew Dent for pointing them out to me in the first place.
Well, that opening line scared off about half of the people likely to have a read of this post. If you're still around, carry on reading, especially if you've not really read SF before. You might read about something you may want to give a try. If you're already an SF fan, you might have heard all this before, if I'm perfectly honest.
A couple of weeks ago, a friend introduced me to Escape Pod, a science fiction podcast. I didn't subscribe straight away, instead waiting a couple of days and then downloading the latest edition. It featured Eugene, by Jacob Sager Weinstein which wasn't the most engaging of stories, if I'm honest. It featured a talking dog - for want of a better phrase, as it was a little more anatomically complex - in the police force. But what got me hooked was the discussion of the piece by the editor, Mur Lafferty.
It struck me then that SF is in good hands these days. It wasn't so long ago that I thought SF was in decline. The writers of the SF Golden Age were passing. Arthur C. Clarke - perhaps the greatest of them all - died in 2008. Philip K. Dick has been dead for more than two decades. Brian W. Aldiss is still alive, but well into his twilight years. Isaac Asimov is no longer with us. There are a handful of good - occasionally nigh-on great - popular SF writers, but compared to what the genre was thirty years ago, it didn't seem to be in the rudest of health. In the US especially writers seemed more interested in writing escapist fantasy rather than intelligent SF.
In my defence, what's on the shelves at Waterstones in Huddersfield isn't necessarily the greatest selection. Intelligent SF readers in the region are at a premium, it would be fair to say, and when I was at college fantasy was all the rage amongst people who I sat around passing time with. And if it wasn't them, it was the literary snobs in English Literature who turned their nose up at anything if it hadn't won a Pulitzer. Hugos? Nebulas? Not for them.
That statement about the English Lit class is a little harsh to most of the class, really, but my point is that nobody read SF. Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke, Dick, etc, were all alien names, when I have the feeling that 30 years ago they were at least known and respected, if not widely read by 'literary' people.
I'm getting off-topic. The point is that I felt SF wasn't where it should be. Magazines had declined following the advent of easily-available internet on top of the decline of intelligent SF on the shelves of bookshops.
But I'm pleased to report that my fears are far from the truth. Yes, the SF magazine has declined over recent years. Until recently I didn't know where to pick up the biggest SF magazine in Britain, and if I wanted to get a copy of Interzone from the shops it would involve a trek to Leeds, a round trip of some 30-odd miles. However, we see short stories available on the internet, often for free. I downloaded a magazine in PDF form - The Literary Hatchet - the other day, and found it to be fairly high-quality. Perhaps the stories weren't to my taste, but there is good short fiction out there to be read.
Going back to Escape Pod, it's been brilliant to subscribe to it and have a new short story arrive in audio form for free once a week. Short fiction has been something I've neglected in the past, so having this available to me to listen to has been a godsend. I've been listening through the back episodes and subscribing to other podcasts as well - Pseudopod and Starship Sofa, the former of which is horror rather than SF - and what has struck me most isn't the high quality. It's been the passion of the people behind it, the labour of love that each and every story is.
I have a feeling that this sort of presentation is the future of SF. The passion of the people behind these podcasts - and the fact that they work in symbiosis with each other, rather than competing per se - leaves SF with a rosy future. Perhaps now we're seeing a lull, because some of these SF writers I've been listening to stories from are exceptionally talented people.
One thing is that the podcasts need donations to survive. As much as we all want to receive everything for free, people providing services do need to survive, and it's only right that writers and other contributors are paid for their work. I may not be able to donate right now (I'm a skint student, for heaven's sake), but once I'm financially stable, I'll probably be donating £5 or £10 a month. If each person who listens to it does something similar, maybe we'll see these podcasts improve and thrive even more than they are now.
So search for Escape Pod, Pseudopod, Starship Sofa and Cast Macabre (amongst others) on the iTunes Music Store, in the podcasts section. Subscribe. And enjoy. And many thanks to Matthew Dent for pointing them out to me in the first place.
Friday, 27 August 2010
Quality control to room 34a
I wrote 4,000 words yesterday. This is quite a large number by my standards, and the shock of writing so much in one day has been so great that today has, in effect, been a day off. 300 words, some editing, plus this blog. Huzzah for consistency!
That quantity has got me thinking. It was all first draft writing, which is when I'm generally pretty careless with what I'm doing, but even so it seems to me that to write so much it has to be of fairly low quality. Not what it's going to be when I go back to that short story in a few weeks and redraft it. While it may only have taken a day to write everything I wanted in first draft form, second draft, when quality control suddenly makes an appearance (though it may not be noticed), will probably take four or five times that.
I find this frustrating, if I'm honest. When writing second drafts, I average 1,000 words a day, if I do 3-4 hours (or what I class as a full writing day). Does that much thought really have to go into it, to slow my writing speed by 750 words an hour? It's pretty common for me to not bother writing a second draft and just leave a first draft to ferment in a drawer in perpetuity, simply because I like to write fast.
People who know me won't be too shocked to find I have no patience when it comes to writing second drafts. But it's something I'm determined to teach myself (until I get bored of it, obviously). It's something I need if I want to make my way as a writer. One published short story doesn't really cut the mustard, and I have some ideas I think are saleable, so patience is a must to get that quality in. Starting tomorrow* I'm going to be working my way through a few first drafts, starting to work on second drafts.
Hopefully, the required quality injection will arrive, and before too long the quality will ally itself with quantity to satisfy my impatience to be cracking on with things.
* - unless Town lose to Charlton, obviously.
That quantity has got me thinking. It was all first draft writing, which is when I'm generally pretty careless with what I'm doing, but even so it seems to me that to write so much it has to be of fairly low quality. Not what it's going to be when I go back to that short story in a few weeks and redraft it. While it may only have taken a day to write everything I wanted in first draft form, second draft, when quality control suddenly makes an appearance (though it may not be noticed), will probably take four or five times that.
I find this frustrating, if I'm honest. When writing second drafts, I average 1,000 words a day, if I do 3-4 hours (or what I class as a full writing day). Does that much thought really have to go into it, to slow my writing speed by 750 words an hour? It's pretty common for me to not bother writing a second draft and just leave a first draft to ferment in a drawer in perpetuity, simply because I like to write fast.
People who know me won't be too shocked to find I have no patience when it comes to writing second drafts. But it's something I'm determined to teach myself (until I get bored of it, obviously). It's something I need if I want to make my way as a writer. One published short story doesn't really cut the mustard, and I have some ideas I think are saleable, so patience is a must to get that quality in. Starting tomorrow* I'm going to be working my way through a few first drafts, starting to work on second drafts.
Hopefully, the required quality injection will arrive, and before too long the quality will ally itself with quantity to satisfy my impatience to be cracking on with things.
* - unless Town lose to Charlton, obviously.
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
Insert Z-Cars theme here
Last football blog for a while, promise.
Town play in the second round of the League Cup tonight. After a 1-0 win at Carlisle a couple of weeks ago, thanks to Jordan Rhodes' 90th minute strike, we drew Premier League side Everton away. Initial feelings of 'great draw, we can win that' have drifted away over the past couple of weeks to being a feeling of 'we're going to get hammered'. Anything other than a 5-0 walloping will be celebrated like we won the World Cup. With Kevin Sharp in the team.
I'm looking forward to the trip over, if I'm honest. Goodison Park is a ground I haven't been to yet, and, by my reckoning, will be the 45th ground I'll have seen a match at. By all accounts, it's a proper old ground, creaking and full of character. It's no Saltergate, seeing as it hosts Premier League football week in week out, but it's probably the only ground around to have a church in one corner.
I like grounds with character, or at least with something different. St James' Park, Newcastle, is a brilliant ground for being something different, modern as it is. The Riverside Stadium, Middlesbrough, is on the opposite end of the scale, being an identikit stadium. You can change the colour of the seats and be in the Walkers, the Keepmoat, the Liberty Stadium, the Cardiff City Stadium... You get the point.
Our own ground, the Galpharm, is nothing like the above, thankfully. It's been imitated, but never bettered. The Galpharm can legitimately lay claim to be one of the most important grounds in football history, as it dragged ground architecture away from the post-Hillsborough depression and into the 21st century. At least, until whoever decided to build the Riverside made it a soulless bowl that everyone would copy. The arches on the roofs of the stands are iconic at the Mac (as I still call it), and the way the stands are shaped like segments of orange makes it instantly recognisable.
Going back a year or two (or 16 and a bit, seeing as that's when the last match was played there), Leeds Road was the first ground I ever took in a match. Town played Plymouth Argyle. We won 1-0, courtesy of a man I would see score a few times more: Andy Booth. The ground itself was, by that point, falling down. It had virtually none of the splendour that had seen it become one of the leading grounds in the country. It was still an awesome arena in its size; apart from a roof over the East Terrace, it was essentially still the same ground that 67,037 had crammed into in the early 30s to watch a Cup match between Town and Arsenal (Town suffered the usual big crowd nerves, and went down 1-0). But only 6,000 were in the ground on this day, making the terraces quiet. If I had one wish, it would be to see Leeds Road at its best, when 40,000 would regularly go through the turnstiles and when the East Terrace was somewhere the noise would be unreal (according to my dad, Simon Inglis, and the Old Grounds website). The first night of the Denis Law lights, v champions Wolves, would be a good one to pick.
Anyhow, moving back on to this evening's match. Everton are a good team. In fact, Everton are a very good team. They're the highest-ranked side in the competition at this point, and Town have our work cut out just to not get hammered. On the other hand, we have a strong spine and have enough in the tank to cause an upset. Gary Naysmith's return from a ban will balance the back four. Roberts will most likely return to the left wing. We can cause an upset if we believe it.
I'm setting off at 4.30 for the 8pm kick-off. With me will be food, an iPod, and Old Man's War. See, I linked it to writing (sort of).
Town play in the second round of the League Cup tonight. After a 1-0 win at Carlisle a couple of weeks ago, thanks to Jordan Rhodes' 90th minute strike, we drew Premier League side Everton away. Initial feelings of 'great draw, we can win that' have drifted away over the past couple of weeks to being a feeling of 'we're going to get hammered'. Anything other than a 5-0 walloping will be celebrated like we won the World Cup. With Kevin Sharp in the team.
I'm looking forward to the trip over, if I'm honest. Goodison Park is a ground I haven't been to yet, and, by my reckoning, will be the 45th ground I'll have seen a match at. By all accounts, it's a proper old ground, creaking and full of character. It's no Saltergate, seeing as it hosts Premier League football week in week out, but it's probably the only ground around to have a church in one corner.
I like grounds with character, or at least with something different. St James' Park, Newcastle, is a brilliant ground for being something different, modern as it is. The Riverside Stadium, Middlesbrough, is on the opposite end of the scale, being an identikit stadium. You can change the colour of the seats and be in the Walkers, the Keepmoat, the Liberty Stadium, the Cardiff City Stadium... You get the point.
Our own ground, the Galpharm, is nothing like the above, thankfully. It's been imitated, but never bettered. The Galpharm can legitimately lay claim to be one of the most important grounds in football history, as it dragged ground architecture away from the post-Hillsborough depression and into the 21st century. At least, until whoever decided to build the Riverside made it a soulless bowl that everyone would copy. The arches on the roofs of the stands are iconic at the Mac (as I still call it), and the way the stands are shaped like segments of orange makes it instantly recognisable.
Going back a year or two (or 16 and a bit, seeing as that's when the last match was played there), Leeds Road was the first ground I ever took in a match. Town played Plymouth Argyle. We won 1-0, courtesy of a man I would see score a few times more: Andy Booth. The ground itself was, by that point, falling down. It had virtually none of the splendour that had seen it become one of the leading grounds in the country. It was still an awesome arena in its size; apart from a roof over the East Terrace, it was essentially still the same ground that 67,037 had crammed into in the early 30s to watch a Cup match between Town and Arsenal (Town suffered the usual big crowd nerves, and went down 1-0). But only 6,000 were in the ground on this day, making the terraces quiet. If I had one wish, it would be to see Leeds Road at its best, when 40,000 would regularly go through the turnstiles and when the East Terrace was somewhere the noise would be unreal (according to my dad, Simon Inglis, and the Old Grounds website). The first night of the Denis Law lights, v champions Wolves, would be a good one to pick.
Anyhow, moving back on to this evening's match. Everton are a good team. In fact, Everton are a very good team. They're the highest-ranked side in the competition at this point, and Town have our work cut out just to not get hammered. On the other hand, we have a strong spine and have enough in the tank to cause an upset. Gary Naysmith's return from a ban will balance the back four. Roberts will most likely return to the left wing. We can cause an upset if we believe it.
I'm setting off at 4.30 for the 8pm kick-off. With me will be food, an iPod, and Old Man's War. See, I linked it to writing (sort of).
Monday, 23 August 2010
This post is rated 18, probably
So Sky Sports News has disappeared off the telly thanks to Rupert Murdoch being a money-grabbing so-and-so. This has nothing to do with today's blog, other than it annoys me and therefore I have to mention it. I also have to mention that it's probably going to result in an upsurge of writing activity because I'll no longer be distracted by Natalie Sawyer telling me that Samir Nasri is out of Arsenal's clash with Birmingham. Bah!
I'm actually writing about the fact I'm managing to scare myself with my writing at the moment. In the past I was a fairly genteel, non-violent, non-sexy writer. The worst you'd get would be an action scene from a '12' rated film, with relatively little blood and certainly no sex or bad language. In fact, it was all a bit boring.
A couple of weeks ago I had an idea. I won't go into too much detail about the idea as I think that, with a bit of tweaking in the second draft, it's definitely stands a chance of publication. But I was surprised what I was writing. A foul-mouthed Geordie lass was in it, absolutely starkers from the very first word. There was blood. There was even the suggestion of some seriously non-U scenes at the end. In short, it was at the very least a '15'. And I really don't know where all of it came from. It isn't as if I was reading anything too violent or sexy, and yet my subconscious had managed to come up with this idea.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, and I sat down this afternoon with half-a-dozen stories on the go at once. I pulled my usual trick: I ignored what was in progress and moved on to the latest in a long line of ideas I've had this summer. And it's yet another one with language, sex, violence and other. This time, it's even more disturbing; once again, no details (partly because I don't want to scare people until they read the thing itself), but the themes are something I've rarely come across in real life, so why is my subconscious coming up with these ideas?
In between times, there have been one or two ideas which have been in a similar vein of darkness. My writing's always been pretty bleak (to match my mental outlook, in all honesty), so it's not too much of a surprise to find characters who are outsiders plotting murder and what have you, but at least in the past their motives were for more than just the heck of a particular thing. It's not that I'm worried, but I'd be interested in knowing where this new level of darkness has come from.
I'm actually writing about the fact I'm managing to scare myself with my writing at the moment. In the past I was a fairly genteel, non-violent, non-sexy writer. The worst you'd get would be an action scene from a '12' rated film, with relatively little blood and certainly no sex or bad language. In fact, it was all a bit boring.
A couple of weeks ago I had an idea. I won't go into too much detail about the idea as I think that, with a bit of tweaking in the second draft, it's definitely stands a chance of publication. But I was surprised what I was writing. A foul-mouthed Geordie lass was in it, absolutely starkers from the very first word. There was blood. There was even the suggestion of some seriously non-U scenes at the end. In short, it was at the very least a '15'. And I really don't know where all of it came from. It isn't as if I was reading anything too violent or sexy, and yet my subconscious had managed to come up with this idea.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, and I sat down this afternoon with half-a-dozen stories on the go at once. I pulled my usual trick: I ignored what was in progress and moved on to the latest in a long line of ideas I've had this summer. And it's yet another one with language, sex, violence and other. This time, it's even more disturbing; once again, no details (partly because I don't want to scare people until they read the thing itself), but the themes are something I've rarely come across in real life, so why is my subconscious coming up with these ideas?
In between times, there have been one or two ideas which have been in a similar vein of darkness. My writing's always been pretty bleak (to match my mental outlook, in all honesty), so it's not too much of a surprise to find characters who are outsiders plotting murder and what have you, but at least in the past their motives were for more than just the heck of a particular thing. It's not that I'm worried, but I'd be interested in knowing where this new level of darkness has come from.
Saturday, 21 August 2010
Further to yesterday's blog...
We lost. We were 2-0 up, Smithies made a mistake and we ended up losing 4-2.
Oh well.
It does have to be said that Down At The Mac is practically in meltdown about it. Why is it so hard to get perspective into Town fans? Yes, we lost, but we did lose to a good team with three very talented players up front. We won't go up against a more talented front three all season. We still have some very good players even if they had an off-day. We are still only 3 games into the season, with 43 to play.
But no, according to DATM the manager has to go (even though the players were at fault for the goals), we need to be nastier, we have to sacrifice style, we have to bring in a target man, McCombe isn't good enough, we're exposed without Naysmith at left-back, Pilkington only gets in the team because he's a manager's favourite, Theo should have come on...
Watch us win in midweek against Premier League Everton and all the cracks be gone and for us to be marching to the title again.
Congrats to Peterborough, by the way. Sounds like the better team won over the course of 90 minutes.
Oh well.
It does have to be said that Down At The Mac is practically in meltdown about it. Why is it so hard to get perspective into Town fans? Yes, we lost, but we did lose to a good team with three very talented players up front. We won't go up against a more talented front three all season. We still have some very good players even if they had an off-day. We are still only 3 games into the season, with 43 to play.
But no, according to DATM the manager has to go (even though the players were at fault for the goals), we need to be nastier, we have to sacrifice style, we have to bring in a target man, McCombe isn't good enough, we're exposed without Naysmith at left-back, Pilkington only gets in the team because he's a manager's favourite, Theo should have come on...
Watch us win in midweek against Premier League Everton and all the cracks be gone and for us to be marching to the title again.
Congrats to Peterborough, by the way. Sounds like the better team won over the course of 90 minutes.
Friday, 20 August 2010
Oh when the Town...
A couple of years ago I went down the A1 to watch Huddersfield Town take on Peterborough. Town had suffered a shocking start to the season under Stan Ternent. We were battling at the bottom, despite a summer spending spree which had brought in 11 players and seen much of the previous season's deadwood shipped out. Posh, on the other hand, were going well with their talented side, and were on the fringes of the play-offs.
What unfolded that afternoon is something nightmares are made of. In almost 17 years of watching Town, I've yet to see a side with less passion, less fight, less ability. Peterborough were a decent side, granted, but Town were simply awful. Part of this is down to the team selection. We played 4-5-1, with Liam Dickinson as a lone striker, Jim Goodwin at right back, Andy Holdsworth on the right wing and Matt Glennon in goal. We were shapeless and disorganised, and we paid for it. We lost 4-0.
It's hard to think about days like that when you're a football fan. They inspire a dullness in the pit of your stomach. Saying it feels like a death is going too far, but certainly games like that have you on the edge of tears just thinking about the state of the team you love. Looking back, there are very few games where I've felt anything similar. Losing 4-1 at Oldham 6 months previous to the Peterborough game was one of those days. A few days later, manager Andy Ritchie had got the sack. Macclesfield away, another 4-0 gubbing, is another occasion, although Town reacted to this and went on a run of just 4 defeats in 26 matches, eventually winning promotion via the play-offs.
Peterborough away is one of the top 3 for awful afternoons watching Town. Misery was compounded in the dying seconds when Chris Lucketti was sent off for a professional foul, and manager Ternent came out at the end with his now-infamous Christmas dinner statement. A 0-0 draw on the Tuesday to Yeovil and a 3-2 win over basement side Crewe weren't enough to save the Turnip's job, and he goes down in Town folklore as probably the worst manager the club has ever had.
But my point is that since that day Town have progressed beyond recognition. Two weeks after Ternent left, caretaker manager Gerry Murphy guided Town to a magnificent 2-1 victory at local rivals Leeds, a result that set Town on the winning trail. Eventually, Lee Clark was appointed manager, and guided Town to 9th that season.
Several notable incomings and changes were made between Ternent's departure and the end of the campaign. Goalkeeper Matt Glennon was dropped in favour of hot prospect Alex Smithies - who hadn't even been on the bench under Ternent. Holdsworth reverted to right-back, Goodwin to central midfield. Michael Collins returned to the first team and hit 10 goals from midfield. Incoming was wingman Anthony Pilkington for £500,000 from Stockport. In my opinion, this boy is the best player in League One. He's two-footed, powerful, blessed with great vision and technique.
Last season, even more progress was made. Town finished 6th and lost in the play-offs. The squad was so different from the Ternent days that it's hardly believable that under 2 years were between the end of last season and Ternent's departure. Right-back Lee Peltier, central defender and captain Peter Clarke, strikers Jordan Rhodes and Lee Novak are just a handful of examples of where the club has progressed in its playing staff.
Tomorrow, Town go to Peterborough for the first time since that 4-0 thrashing. The side will have only one survivor: winger Gary Roberts. 1-11, Town are stronger, and Peterborough will be a real test for the new team. Luckily, even if we do get thrashed 4-0, we won't have the sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach reserved for hopeless situations. We've progressed to the point where we're unrecognisable from the perpetual underachievers of the last decade. This is a team ready to go back to the Championship.
Come on, Town!
Now, back to the writing.
What unfolded that afternoon is something nightmares are made of. In almost 17 years of watching Town, I've yet to see a side with less passion, less fight, less ability. Peterborough were a decent side, granted, but Town were simply awful. Part of this is down to the team selection. We played 4-5-1, with Liam Dickinson as a lone striker, Jim Goodwin at right back, Andy Holdsworth on the right wing and Matt Glennon in goal. We were shapeless and disorganised, and we paid for it. We lost 4-0.
It's hard to think about days like that when you're a football fan. They inspire a dullness in the pit of your stomach. Saying it feels like a death is going too far, but certainly games like that have you on the edge of tears just thinking about the state of the team you love. Looking back, there are very few games where I've felt anything similar. Losing 4-1 at Oldham 6 months previous to the Peterborough game was one of those days. A few days later, manager Andy Ritchie had got the sack. Macclesfield away, another 4-0 gubbing, is another occasion, although Town reacted to this and went on a run of just 4 defeats in 26 matches, eventually winning promotion via the play-offs.
Peterborough away is one of the top 3 for awful afternoons watching Town. Misery was compounded in the dying seconds when Chris Lucketti was sent off for a professional foul, and manager Ternent came out at the end with his now-infamous Christmas dinner statement. A 0-0 draw on the Tuesday to Yeovil and a 3-2 win over basement side Crewe weren't enough to save the Turnip's job, and he goes down in Town folklore as probably the worst manager the club has ever had.
But my point is that since that day Town have progressed beyond recognition. Two weeks after Ternent left, caretaker manager Gerry Murphy guided Town to a magnificent 2-1 victory at local rivals Leeds, a result that set Town on the winning trail. Eventually, Lee Clark was appointed manager, and guided Town to 9th that season.
Several notable incomings and changes were made between Ternent's departure and the end of the campaign. Goalkeeper Matt Glennon was dropped in favour of hot prospect Alex Smithies - who hadn't even been on the bench under Ternent. Holdsworth reverted to right-back, Goodwin to central midfield. Michael Collins returned to the first team and hit 10 goals from midfield. Incoming was wingman Anthony Pilkington for £500,000 from Stockport. In my opinion, this boy is the best player in League One. He's two-footed, powerful, blessed with great vision and technique.
Last season, even more progress was made. Town finished 6th and lost in the play-offs. The squad was so different from the Ternent days that it's hardly believable that under 2 years were between the end of last season and Ternent's departure. Right-back Lee Peltier, central defender and captain Peter Clarke, strikers Jordan Rhodes and Lee Novak are just a handful of examples of where the club has progressed in its playing staff.
Tomorrow, Town go to Peterborough for the first time since that 4-0 thrashing. The side will have only one survivor: winger Gary Roberts. 1-11, Town are stronger, and Peterborough will be a real test for the new team. Luckily, even if we do get thrashed 4-0, we won't have the sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach reserved for hopeless situations. We've progressed to the point where we're unrecognisable from the perpetual underachievers of the last decade. This is a team ready to go back to the Championship.
Come on, Town!
Now, back to the writing.
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