Waiting for the man.

So last night I went to a BAFTA hosted Comedy Screenwriting Masterclass with the only person I could ever really call a collaborator, Flopsy. It was essentially a clips show for Sam Bain and Jesse Armstrong who you will probably know as the writers of Dead Meat and Peep Show as well as for dipping their hands into work with Armando Iannucci and Chris Morris. It was absolutely bloody fantastic. In a similar way to how I leave a gig desperate to go and make music I left the Q&A with the desire to go and write some sketches or a sitcom. I think it helped that it was held in the BAFTA building just off Picadilly Circus.

Another thing that Flopsy spotted is that where writers are concerned you don’t have to be the new up and coming fresh faces young guys. Bain and Armstrong had a long slog to get to their current position (and I must add it is very well deserved). It does put my mind at rest about getting a little older, the time it takes to find your rhythm as a writer is different to leaving school and sixteen and starting plastering and knowing all you could ever need to by twenty-one and starting your own business. That’s not to belittle plastering or plasterers in any way, if anything I envy their ability to do something of that calibre with their hands. The point is that learning to write is like brewing, you could always leave it a bit longer.

I think that’s my point, if that was a point. I’m lost. Bye.






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