Oh dear. I am being a recalcitrant blogger at the moment. Twitterfeed has, for some reason, just tweeted my last, old post, confusing everyone and reminding me to get back on the blog. But why have I been off air? I am still writing, dear reader – just not here. The exciting news is: I’m doing some of that old-fashioned scribbling for the printed page. I’m working on a book for FT Prentice Hall about online marketing.

And I’m looking for interesting case studies, so if you have a compelling story to tell about how you’ve successfully used online marketing – and especially social media – for your business, I want to hear from you! Some of these will go into the book, more on the website, and I’d also like to interview a few people for a pre-publication podcast.

The Book is called “Market Your Business Online”.  Or “Get Up To Speed with Online Marketing: What you need to know and do to grow your business”. Or something like that. We’re still discussing the title. Suggestions on a postcard please. It should come out around this time next year – but it will have its own blog before then, so look out for that.

Being a social media type, it has a focus on blogs, podcasts, Twitter, Facebook etc., as you would expect. All the things I lecture and run workshops on. But I also wanted to put these into the context of online marketing generally – things like getting your website right and using email marketing. Most of all, it is a practical, step-by-step guide to choosing and using the appropriate tools for your business.

There are plenty of fascinating think-books about the impact social media has had on our lives; and books on single tools, such as Twitter for business, Facebook for business, blogging for business etc. But if you’re a new business, and new to social media, you just want an overview of what’s out there, what’s right for you, ideas for some quick wins, and some pointers on how to use it right away – right? Well, if so, I hope you’ll find this book of some use.

Meanwhile, I’m on a bit of a schedule. I kicked things off with a week in Dartmouth last month, having decided I needed isolation, a nice view, strong coffee and a hearty breakfast in order to write. Turns out I was right, and got a lot done that week. I wrote partly about Twitter, which is how I ended up there in the first place. Twitter is one of those things that becomes more or less useful depending on who you follow – and I follow a number of writers. One of the ways you can use it is to ask people for help – as a sort of online support group. I tweeted:  “I want to go away for a week to focus on writing. Any suggestions?” and got a few replies back within hours, including from my Twitter friend Katharine, co-author of The Rough Guide to Food, who tweeted back: “@jonreed – suggest Alfrescos in Dartmouth – top flat – excellent breakfasts and coffee; big table , mini kitchen, overlooking sea and Dart”.

Perfect. I’m now also a big a fan of Café Alf Resco – listed in the Guardian’s top 10 places to have breakfast in the UK – and of Dartmouth itself. Handily for me, you can get a direct train from Woking, though the railway runs out at Paignton and you have do the last leg by steam train and ferry. It’s the perfect way to arrive, and a great place to get away from the office, phones, email, and feel like you’re having a bit of a holiday too as you look out to sea from the balcony, hammering away on your laptop. I managed to take a proper day off too, for a bit of literary tourism – a boat trip up the Dart to see Agatha Christie’s house, recently opened to the public by the National Trust.

I’ll let you know how it goes. For now, I’m feeling demob happy, since I’m about to take August ‘off’ to write. See you on the other side…

We don’t cope well with snow in the UK.  Everything’s been shut this week. Office workers have been skiving off for a ’snow day’ or several, kids of all ages have been building snowmen, and everything is bright, white and quiet. It’s a bit like Survivors, but without the deadly flu pandemic. And no one has looted Waitrose yet.

I’m sure other countries don’t suffer this affliction. I mean, do the Swiss never leave the house? Are Scandinavian schools permanently shut? Makes little difference to my schedule. I’m holed up in Reed Towers, managing the Grid, waiting for the thaw.

The CBL identifies and blocks the IP addresses of computers that send spam. Apologies if you received spam from any of my email addresses over the last week; I’m really not trying to sell you Viagra. The CBL told me I had a high volume spam sending trojan. The horror.

I’m very careful about Internet downloads and email attachments. I have had Norton on my laptop since I bought it, have it on the highest settings, use a firewall, do weekly full system scans, regularly update my virus definitions, and pay a not inconsiderable annual fee for the service. Imagine my surprise, then, to discover that standard anti-virus software such as Norton rarely detects something as serious as a trojan that could disrupt my business to the point of ruin. I mean, what is the bloody point?

I now know more than I ever wanted to about finding and removing trojans – and have successfully located and quarantined the vile spambot. The best advice I can offer if you’re ever in the same position is to use a marvellous piece of software called TrojanHunter to force out even tough, hidden, ground-in stains from your hard drive.

So, I’m now delisted from the CBL, I can send email again, and my system is clean. But it has set Project Jon back a few days, so I now have to work the bank holiday instead of taking some desperately needed time off. But, come Tuesday, I shall be doing something completely different…

To put it another way, I’m in that tricky stage of business development when there’s plenty of work coming in (good times) but not quite enough cashflow to outsource much of it (bad times). Result: a teetering in-tray and some very long hours. I’ve not worked such insane hours since I was a corporate slave.

Don’t get me wrong: I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love my job, and I love working for myself. And I don’t mind working long hours when it’s something that I like doing anyway, and when it’s a relatively temporary blip in my business cycle. But I am neglecting my friends terribly, and becoming a bit of a social recluse. I may have 316 friends on Facebook, but how many of them have I actually seen in real life lately? Not many.

There are some Great Leaps Forward to come with the business(es) this year. More on that story later. I’m also taking bookings for more lecturing and speaking gigs well into next year. I’m writing more, despite having neglected my Publishing Talk blog dreadfully of late. I will be back on that blog – and on other blogs – soon. But I’m also writing non-digitally, for stuff that’s printed on paper (remember that?). Yet which also involves hammering away at the keys on my laptop.

It’s all good. It’s varied. It’s interesting. But Jonny is a dull boy at the moment. Please bear with me, and I will resurface soon. I promise.

I’m really not turning into a plane spotter. But if ever I can afford such an expensive hobby, I’d be the first to hop into a Cessna and move my seat and tray table into the upright position. It would certainly qualify as one of those non-digital interests I’m supposed to be taking up – but don’t hold your breath for any aerial photography on this blog just yet.

And I’m about to get one of those plug-in wireless modem things, so I shall soon be able to get on t’Internet wherever in the world there’s a mobile signal.

I can’t believe I spent so many years working on grim concrete industrial estates in the Thames Valley, where my only view was a banana factory, a Sainsbury’s depot or a motorway junction. Insane Ricky Gervaisery.

My friend Michele married Martin in Portmeirion – a relaxed and stylish affair, with perfect weather just in time, in a beautiful location (if the most inaccessible place in the UK). I travelled up with our mutual friend Barry, and we stayed in a neighbouring Welsh village, less renowned for its cult TV status.

Anyone familiar with The Prisoner will recognise the incongruous Italianate eccentricity of Portmeirion, known simply as The Village in the 1960s TV series. Number Six, played by Patrick McGoohan, is sent to the mind-bendingly surreal prison that is The Village when he quits his job as a spy. He never quite manages to escape – though I can’t imagine why: there’s a perfectly good train service from Minffordd. I gather they’re re-making The Prisoner next year, with Ian McKellen – though, sadly, without the original setting.

Portmeirion was the bonkers vision of one man: architect Clough Williams-Ellis, and was built between 1925 and 1975. It must have been big in the 70s – newly completed and with all that TV exposure – but it’s one of the few sights of North Wales I don’t remember from childhood, when, as for many West Midlands families, “holiday” meant “Welsh coast”. It’s a curious diamond in the surrounding slate-heap of out-of-season-even-in-season, closed for the summer seaside towns.

I’ve known Michele for about 10 years – though we initially met almost 15 years ago when I worked with her sister Linda in the Psychology department at Staffordshire University – those lazy, hazy, crazy days in Shelton. It was good to be reunited with Linda, and with various other friends and family of the bride and groom, whom I felt like I barely spoke to (how rude), such is the speed with which time flies on the Welsh coast.

In fact, between the time we set off from our charming B&B in Penrhyndeudraeth the next morning, and the time we arrived back in London, on a journey that almost started with the Ffestiniog Steam Railway, and took in a Brief Encounter style tearoom at Porthmadog station, time had accelerated from 1952 to 2008 at the speed of Marty McFly’s converted DeLorean. Must be something to do with that Cardiff-based Rift that Captain Jack keeps talking about.

But, most of all, it was good to see Shelly and Martin tie the knot – a couple more deserving of a happy-ever-after you’d be hard-pressed to find. Congratulations, Mr & Mrs Boustead!

(No sign of Mrs Trellis, though.)

UPDATE: My Flickr photos are now available.

Like much conceptual art, it requires a bit of curatorial explanation. It’s inspired by bipolar disorder (what we used to call manic depression). The black breeze blocks and gravel represent depression – and the slit windows the partial view of the bipolar personality an outsider sees. The bright green lettuce (yes, lettuce), which can be seen from all but one window, spilling out of a black box, is the ‘ecstacy’ of mania, with shards of coloured perspex representing the flashes of creativity often associated with the condition.

Is it a garden? I’m not sure I’d have it at Reed Towers. But it’s certainly striking and thought-provoking. I’ll look forward to more conceptual gardens at the Flower Show next year.

I’m really not stalking David Davies. The event was arranged months before his electoral eccentricity catapulted him from relative obscurity. With the by-election the same week, this became one of the hottest political tickets in town, though electoral rules prevented him talking directly about it. I didn’t manage to get my question about his voting record in, but there were several questions raised about his civil rights credentials.

Most entertaining of all were the leaflets handed out on the way in, listing ‘Questions that David Icke would ask David Davis if he was not banned from his meetings‘. Icke was one of the 25 candidates standing against him in the by-election, along with Mad-Cow Girl, Miss Great Britain and the Church of the Militant Elvis Party. Icke’s questions were quite sensible, too, with not a single mention of the lizard people. Whatever you think of David Icke, given that this was a debate on democracy, his final question was particularly pertinent:

Why will you not debate with me and why was I not even allowed to attend your public meeting with Bob Geldof last week even though I had a ticket booked?

Since then, Davis won the by-election. Of course. I still don’t really understand the point of it all. Maybe his strategy will reveal itself in the long term.