Woodshedding into winter...
It’s autumn, and tis the season for knuckling down, so this week I’m making the final tweaks on the book I’ve been writing for aaaaaaaaages before I send it off. Wish me luck...
With the constant stream of AI-slop swilling around the internet, including staggeringly shitty art, fake bands, and the rise of AI therapists and girlfriends (purlease), I’m dedicating this Substack to the joy and power of humans doing and making stuff together.
I’m feeling extra inspired about the future of humanity (yes, really) because I’ve just returned from a fantastic week, teaching a residential writing course at the Arvon Foundation with 16 brilliant students of all ages and backgrounds, all totally committed to writing great books. If you don’t know, Arvon is the UK’s leading creative writing organisation with three centres in the UK - Devon, Shropshire and Yorkshire. The latter two are former homes of playwright John Osborne and poet Ted Hughes, and all the houses are sublime places to spend a week. I’ve tutored at Arvon every year for the past decade after being brought into the fold by the inimitable Ian Marchant (do follow his Substack). Arvon is a very special organisation. Founded by a pair of hippie poets in the late ‘60s as a reaction to the stultifying methods of teaching English in schools, it’s now a big player - with Arts Council funding and an impressive list of high-profile tutors. But it’s always managed to retain a whiff of its counter-cultural beginnings, and it remains an open, welcoming, and truly creative place to work. They run courses for all kinds of writing and writers - from poetry and screenwriting to memoir and fiction, so if you’re at all interested in putting words on a page, come and give it a go - the vibe is good.
Bluegrass to the rescue
If like me, and any other sane person in the 21st century, you wake up wondering, ‘What version of hell greets us today?’ then please read my recent article about playing music with others, and why it could save America. OK, maybe that’s a tad optimistic but there is something to be said for the almost magical power of a bluegrass jam. Would Donald Trump and Elon Musk be such maniacal, power-crazed a-holes if they had spent their formative years playing bluegrass? Nope, I don’t reckon. Instead they’d be like the rest of us pickers: skint, slack-jawed and hunched over a banjo, trying to nail Foggy Mountain Breakdown at 155bpm - and the world would be a better place for it. My article appeared in New Humanist magazine, the journal for the Humanists Society - and it’s really about connecting with others, even when we might not see eye to eye.
Book recommendation: Greyhound by Joanna Pocock
I was thrilled to provide the musical accompaniment for the launch of this book. Joanna is a friend of mine and an award-winning author. Her new book, Greyhound, tells the tale of her two journeys across the US by Greyhound bus, 17 years apart, charting the decline and fracturing of American society amid her own personal story of becoming a mother. It’s a fascinating and often heartbreaking read, especially, if like me, you grew up with a deep love and admiration for the USA and its music, literature, art, design and optimism of the 20th century. But Greyhound goes way deeper than a misery memoir and it’s been garnering some great reviews. My musical accomplice and boat neighbour, Angie and I have a duo called Old Hen, playing old-time fiddle & banjo music at events, and we were delighted to provide some suitably down-home sounds to launch the book into the world.
Join me in 2026
I am currently in the process of finalising a very exciting writing course/retreat for late June/early July 2026, which will take place on the island of Jura off the west coast of Scotland, with my author/adventurer buddy, Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent (do follow her Substack too). In an incredible coup, we will be hosting the course in the house where George Orwell wrote 1984 - and there is space for just seven writers to join us. This is a super-rare opportunity - it’s a privately owned home and not available for rent or open to the public. So hit me up FAST if you want in. More deets coming soon.
If you can’t make it to Jura, we’re also running our Wild Writing Weekend again in Wales. May 15-17th 2026. It’s a blast and always sells out within a week, so drop me a line if you’re up for this one.
Thanks for being part of my Substack gang. Keep in touch, tell me what you’re up to, and wishing you many lo-fi adventures of your own.
Adios from the banks of the Thames, and keep on rockin’ in the free world.
Can’t wait for the new book!
I'm looking forward to reading your new book Lois and adding it to my collection of your previous ones. Best wishes Alan Coates (your aging fan)