By the way, I’ve moved house.

Whoops.

That’s quite a big thing, right? Something I should have said earlier?

Yeah, so I’ve moved house. From Edgbaston, Birmingham to Lightmoor, Telford.

It’s a lovely little Bournville Village Trust Development. There’s no sirens, no needles left on the ground, no shouty neighbours, no buzzing doorbell at all hours of the night, no wind whistling through the gaps in the window.

It’s the middle of a little terrace of three houses on the first part of the development.

If you want my new address to send Christmas cards or large parcels of DVD’s etc drop me an email.

I’m taking part in #twitpanto (18th Dec 3.30pm GMT) and I’m playing “Much the Millers Son”.

It seems that Much doesn’t really have anyone in the way of parents so I’m putting together a list of famous Millers that Much can look up to.

First on my list is “Windy Miller” from the TV shows Camberwick Green & Chigley. (It’s a nice excuse to have a picture of Windy Miller on my blog)

Frederick Miller – (born Nov. 24, 1824) was a brewery owner who founded the Miller Brewing Company in 1855. He was born in Germany, and died of cancer on May 11, 1888. He is buried in the Calvary Cemetery in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Without him, we’d have no Man Laws and Budweiser would have a monopoly on our favorite drink.

Frank Miller – (born Jan. 27, 1957) an American writer, artist and film director best known for his film noir-style comic book stories. He is one of the most widely-recognized and popular creators in comics, and is one of the most influential comics creators of his generation. He created Sin City, Batman: The Dark Knight Returns, and Daredevil.

Glenn Miller – (born Alton on March 1, 1904 — presumably Dec. 15, 1944) was an American jazz musician and bandleader in the swing era. He was one of the best-selling recording artists from 1939 to 1942, leading one of the best known “Big Bands.” During World War II, while traveling to entertain U.S. troops in France, his plane disappeared in bad weather. His body was never found. Miller’s signature recordings — including, among others, “In the Mood”, “Tuxedo Junction”, “Chattanooga Choo Choo”, “Moonlight Serenade”, “Sun Valley Jump”, “String of Pearls”, “Little Brown Jug”, “Pennsylvania 6-5000″ (named for the phone number of New York’s Hotel Pennsylvania, whose ballroom was Miller’s primary venue) — are still familiar refrains, even to generations born decades after Miller disappeared.

Johnny Miller.

Sienna Miller.

Arthur Miller.

Wentworth Miller.

Any more?

Just so you don’t think I’ve been resting on my laurels and skipped off having fun, I’m still writing blog posts, I’ve just taken up residence in other places.

The Greenbelt Blog generously allow me to write stuff that connects up the creative and spiritual dots in my life.

I recently wrote about a slow crafts exhibition in Birmingham that connects neatly with the theme from the festival this year. I’m going to pop along & take some photos & blog about it.

I’ve also done a number of posts for Birmingham It’s Not Shit. Which is an awesome honour to do as it’s a great website.

I started by asking people to “give me hell” and told the story of how I got to Birmingham. (Ish)

The gave my suggestions for the Birmingham Book Festival.

I also suggested people make their views heard about the new plans for the Birmingham Gateway.

I accidently started a campaign to get the inventor of Cluedo recognised by the local civic society.

Finally I gave some highlights of the forthcoming “get ready to shout” festival.

No resty laurels for me.

I didn’t mean I was actually dead.

Just wanted to clarify that.

I’ve been busy, not pushing up daises.

It’s one of those really familiar cliché images in a hospital drama, doctor giving CPR as others around them look on wondering at what point the doctor is going to join the rest of us and realise the body on the slab is no longer a person.

I’ve reached that point of realising the idea I’m trying to pump life into is just that, an idea. Not a living breathing thing but just a clever idea, a nice idea, an idea with energy to it and one that inspires but it’s not something I can keep giving heart massages to.

I’ve got to climb down off the stretcher, quietly say “shit” to myself and walk away.

I’m walking away from organising Fail Camp. Doesn’t mean it’s dead, it’s not a new idea, it’s a nice idea and someone else can pick up leading it.

It’s hard to face your own failure in this regard, it’s hard to fail so publicly, part of me wishes I’d failed on a huge scale, this is a bit of a damp squib- a blog post late at night, sneaked out. The fail camp blog & twitter stream will still exist, the expectation of my peers strangely met and missed. The energy and enthusiasm misdirected.

So, for the fail camp purists out there who advocated moving the venue at the last moment and not telling anyone, I’ve just gone one better: I’ve failed at making fail camp happen.

Conceptually it’s beautiful, personally it’s a tad frightening.

Part of me would prefer we all pretended the idea never bubbled out into the ether. That same part has an instinct to run away and hide. That same pretending hiding part would also like you to never mention it to me.

But there’s another bit of me, a bolder, brassier bit that wants to examine these feelings from all sides, walk round the shape of failure, feel it up close, press my nose against it’s glassy surface and huff on it to see if I fog it.

Yes, I’m sad to let go, yes, it does feel a bit of a waste.

But I’ve grown through the process (as you’d hoped I would). I had a number of really beautiful moments I cherish with Pete Ashton. He’s a genius, a do-er and a great guy to work with. Don’t worry, Pete, cakes are coming your way. I’ve made sure this one is dead before I walk away.

Only it wasn’t, you know, a secret. Last year I was visiting my brother’s church in Basingstoke and a lovely lady with curly hair got up to talk about herself & share a bit of her journey. Someone leaned over and said “She’s Blind” and then added “She’s an MBE”. I think I pulled one of those “Oh ok” faces I pull when I’m never really sure what to respond with.

What came next was five minutes of deeply entertaining, inspirational kick arse story. Little gems of great business sense dropped alongside an interesting personal story. No advance education, kicked off a business at 25 with no money and progressively failing sight from reitnitis pigmentosa and now employs over 100 people at her telemarketing company Great Guns Marketing. 

Liz Jackson MBE is appearing on the first programme in the new series of The Secret Millionaire. (Wednesday 16th September 2009 at 21:00 on Channel 4.)

Liz is a Christian and I’m interested to see how that is put across in the show- having seen Liz in action I know that she won’t be able to get through the show without mentioning the importance of her faith to her. It’ll also be interesting to see how people around her react to her as a disabled person, the usual secret millionaire formula will have to be tweaked a little I imagine.

(As a total aside- My brother has managed to convince me to refer to his job as being a “dot joiner” rather than a “war monger” and I’m sure Mum would say he “works in computers” but he’s still calling me a “tofu eating, Guardian reading liberal”. Some things never change, eh?)

Liz got sent to Lewisham to live in a flat and make contact with several charities before revealing her true identity and giving away thousands on pounds. I love the show normally, inspiring stuff, with someone as interesting as Liz will make this a ‘must see’ programme.

My bookshelf, originally uploaded by benjibrum.

I desperately need to thin down my collection of books.

I can’t look for a new place to live & forever wonder “Will there be enough room for my books?”.

I’m also a bit loathed to just dump a few hundred books onto a charity shop, so here’s the idea:

How about I open up my flat to you, my lovely friends, and you can come & take a book or two you like & you make a fitting cash donation to a charity of my choosing. That way I know my babies are going to a loving home & I know people will be curious about what’s on my bookshelf.

Maybe have some nibbles, wine, that sort of thing. Cake can be served on the balcony.

Of course, my signed books and first editions won’t be up for grabs. They’ll be hidden away somewhere very very safe so no one gets confused & helps themselves to those.

Would you come to an event like this?

Greenbelt 2009 AS 1555, originally uploaded by Greenbelt Festival Official Pictures.

I got an email yesterday reminding me I’d not written on my blog about my experiences of Greenbelt this year.

It’s me chatting as part of a panel discussion coordinated by the lovely people at Shipoffools.com

It was a real honour to be asked to join two other wonderful panelists trying to talk honestly/funnily about some of the difficult bits in the Bible. It wasn’t easy.

From this picture you wouldn’t think I was slowly coming down with festivalistis, was quite badly sunburned & had been on my feet most of the weekend beavering away with the Literature programme. I was tired, I was all talked out but put a mic in my hand and I’ll happily share my thoughts with whoever will turn up and look like I’m enjoying it. (You can see that my mouth is going but the eyes show I’m not quite sure where it’ll end up)

I must confess I was really scared in the run up to the festival. Anxiety dreams scared. Wake up screaming scared. I know that probably sounds a little over the top but it’s what I felt, it was authentic to the moment I found myself in and bears little relationship to the relaxed looking, chatty guy bathed in pink light at the top of this post.

I walked a lot of steps during the festival- I did a massive (for me) 81,492 steps during my time at the festival which averages out at 11,641 steps a day. Yikes!

I met lots of really switched on and interesting people. I kept being overwhelmed by the willingness for punters to stop and chat to me about the literature programme, gather their responses to this year and their brains ticking over to next year.

I’ve learned all the little things I need to be sure to remember for next year.
Stuff like: if we’ve got a projector, make sure there’s a laptop or that everyone knows to bring their own rather than just bringing a data stick. Making sure I’ve got every phone number possible for contributors in my phone and the phone is charged to the max.

That sort of thing.

Will blog content later.

I got a poke in the ribs during my time away at Greenbelt from a couple of people wondering how my self imposed booker prize challenge was going.

It’s been ticking along nicely. Gently chomping my way through the books.

Then today they went and announced the shortlist.

I could cry, I’ve read none of those yet. I’ve got Wolf Hall at home and it’s frightening how long it is.

Any book that needs more than one family tree to explain relationships and a potted history is probably going to kill me.

#fountainwatch, originally uploaded by benjibrum.

I put in an FOI request though WhatDoTheyKnow? & got a sort of helpful response.

You can see that response in all it’s glory here: http://www.whatdotheyknow.com/request/victoria_square_fountain_leak