Category: Other

  • NaNoWriMo Cometh.

    So there are now less than three weeks until National Novel Writing Month and I’m a ball of mixed feelings. I don’t think I’ll have any issues with hitting the 50k and due to the way my brain is structured I can’t help but panic that some of the content might not be all that because I’ve learnt through the recent redrafts of my short stories that I do have a tendency to get carried away, to bleed sentences together, to avoid the humble full stop. I’ve got seventy percent of it planned, I might just see what happens to the rest of it. It’s going to be a challenge, but I seem to love taking on a challenge recently.

    In other news it has been recommended that I find somewhere quiet to burrow away and work. I need to have an assessment this weekend because I think I’ve found the perfect spot, just need to get permission and do a bit of work getting it all shipshape.

    Back to the rain.

  • 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.

  • The Perks Of Seeing A Wallflower.

    Five years ago my friend Danny recommended a book to me. He told me that it was ‘the new Catcher’ knowing that it would launch us into one of our spirited debates on why you should never compare anything with Salinger. Once it was settled I put The Perks Of Being A Wallflower on my reading list and just after Christmas that year I read it in two days. I’ve read it every year since. It is one of those scary books that carefully encapsulates how you feel when you’re alone and vulnerable, how the human mind turns, and how we don’t think anyone could get under that and feel it too.

    Around this time last year it was announced that Perks had been green-lit to go into production. Danny and I were both skeptical until we learnt that Chbosky (the book’s writer) would be writing the screenplay, producing and directing. I can’t think of any writer who has managed to pull this feat off before, but feel free to correct me. When the leads were announced we were split on whether it would transfer to film, and how close to our imaginings it could be. That’s often the problem with book to film adaptations, they fall short and they aren’t how you pictured it. I had doubts about Emma Watson, thinking that she had only been chosen as a buzz actor following the last of the Harry Potter film franchise. Danny wasn’t happy that Percy Jackson (of Percy Jackson and the Lightening Thief) would be playing our beloved Charlie.

    In November last year Danny passed away. It was very sudden and I am still reality checking on a daily basis and wondering how that could have happened. That’s all I want to say on the subject for the time being.

    At Danny’s funeral his friend Sam read from Perks, the speech about feeling infinite when they drive through the tunnel. Each time I read the book I think of being sat in a crematorium in Southend and hearing those words echoing out. It was haunting before but now it rips my heart up each time.

    When the film was finally released my girlfriend asked me if I wanted to go and see it. I said that I needed to. She suggested that we buy a ticket for Danny as well, in memory. I said that I wanted Sam to come and we booked a date.

    From the opening credits my heart started thudding. The film had been built up so much inside my head and by the events of the previous year that it felt odd that the day had actually arrived when I could sit in a darkened cinema and watch the film we had talked about so much. As soon as Charlie started speaking tears started rolling down my cheeks and I sat perfectly still, trying to keep as quiet as possible, it was exactly as I had pictured.

    There were some scenes in particular that looked how I had imagined them, including the placement of the characters and the details of the rooms, it was incredibly accurate. When it came to the tunnel scene I was amazed to discover the song that was used. I won’t say what it is because it wouldn’t be the same as if you were there, but it’s a song that I love and it was perfect. In the book Charlie doesn’t ever reveal what the song they heard on that night was, but the fact Chbosky was in charge of the whole project makes me assume that it was what was intended from the first draft.

    The cast are absolutely spot on. I don’t think I could fault anyone but Ezra Miller in particular was superb. I’ll be amazed if he isn’t in everything from here on in, a complete turn around from We Need To Talk About Kevin, but I guess that’s acting. Paul Rudd was also excellent as Mr Anderson, despite the fact he was definitely referred to by his first name in the book.

    I don’t know where Danny is now. I’m not a particularly religious person, although I would say I were a spiritual one. I hope he was there last night. I hope he appreciated the fact that it wasn’t him that had to organise us going out for once. I hope it was how he had pictured it as well and I wish he could come back.

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  • ‘Glasses John!’

    Last night I was invited to a friend’s for dinner. This is a rare treat for me beyond the very capable hands of my dear Kate. The invite also extended to watching Magical Mystery Tour and probably drinking too much for a Monday night.

    What I enjoy about spending time with Johnny and Ali is that there is absolutely no effort involved in talking to them or being in their company, that’s a rare thing to come by, particularly when you’re rather taken with the idea that you are surrounded by idiots. They’re both very intelligent and wasted in this little seaside town and I think that’s a part of the draw. They aren’t people who haven given up and settled down to life in a cubicle, they have dreams and they enjoy life. They also cook up an amazing lasagne which I am also a fan of.

    As far as the film goes, there was obviously a lot of money going round in the sixties and Magical Mystery Tour is a surreal waste of it. I had previously heard that it has very little narrative but wow, just wow. I think Yellow Submarine made more sense.

    Right, I’m going to try and finish 1Q84 and listen to some Lennon, it’s his birthday you know.

    Peace.

  • Missed the train.

    Through no fault of my own (my iPhone music playlist took longer than anticipated) I missed my train this morning which means this post is coming live from the station rather than the usual reports between Wickford and Billericay.

    I feel a lot better today. Spent an hour in the bath last night watching We Bought A Zoo, then had some food and watched Elementary which is still holding its own. Then I fell asleep watching Freakanomics. Sort of wasted my Sunday a bit. This morning I got a lovely email regarding one of my short stories and that combined with a three mile run have put me in a good mood. Lets see how far it carries me.

  • Gummy mouth.

    Oh god. My head. I’m sat trying to get on the Glastonbury site to buy tickets. It’s just not working so I thought I would write. Woke up with Jocasta Devillenerve this morning, first time that has happened in six years.

    Yesterday I journeyed up to Norfolk to visit my friends Lucy and Mark who have just moved out of the big smoke. Their place is lovely. You know you’re doing something right when you have enough room for a music studio. We went to watch a band at a pub round the corner and I can’t remember a lot beyond that. Good times.

    I know I wasn’t the first to bed though which makes a change but I was the first one up and with nothing to do I cleaned and washed up the kitchen and then sat reading 1Q84 until everyone else decided to join me in the land of the living. There are a team of builders working on the house next door and I’m trying to put a thought together and it just isn’t happening.

  • The weekend starts here.

    Got to wake up with her which is obviously the best possible way to wake up. Now I’m just tucked up in her little flowery duvet while she cooks me breakfast. I can hear J-Dogg playing recorder through the wall and Stacey being so pleased we bought it for him.
    It is Saturday. The sky isn’t grey and today I’m off to Norfolk to catch up with some of my dearest friends.

    It’s been a while but they’re never out of my thoughts, a point captured by the fact that I am still writing about them in Where Did All The Money Go?
    I’m hoping everyone will be there and that it will be another classic night and that I don’t act too much as a camera and can be silly with them. What’s Kings Lyn like at this time of year? How many jumpers will I need?
    Must dash. I can smell eggy-wegs and great lomticks of bread.

  • Rejected into a corner.

    This week I’ve received back the last of the manuscripts I submitted to literary agents back in July/August(?)
    Just so you know, so there is no doubt in your mind, they were all a ‘thank you, sorry, no’ at the very most. The majority of them didn’t include the title of my work, some didn’t even bother to put my name on them, just photocopied another rejection letter, rammed it in my self addressed envelope and sent it back so I could beat it against the coffee table and complain about how I am a genius doomed to never be recognised in my own time.

    The fact is that I thought having my novel rejected would absolutely destroy me. I don’t handle criticism (or creative criticism as people will insist on calling it) well, to me it always seemed as though they were assaulting me and my brain and my efforts when in fact it’s just not to their liking. The Beatles were rejected by record companies, all of my favourite writers were rejected, so I just have to hold onto this one for a while and come at it from a different angle.

    The thing is I learnt a lot from writing Situation One, it’s taught me that when I put my mind to something I can do it, it’s taught me that a hundred thousand words isn’t as much as you think once you get into a flow, it taught me to read, appreciate and understand the work of other writers, to try and take from everyone whatever I can. It’s made me a lot more receptive to the world around me and the people around me so even if it was all just an incredible pipedream and that novel never gets beyond the select group of friends I have sent it round to, that is enough for me, because although I’ve been backed into a corner I will be coming out swinging with the next one.

  • Early to bed…

    …early to rise.
    Or so I was this morning. It turns out I do brilliant work at half five in the morning. I’ve split my short stories, created a table to show what stage each of them is at and redrafted and finalised the first one completely. I’m not entirely happy with it and its ready to go.

    The plan is to finish nine or ten other stories to join Night Of The Fridge Graveyard and then to self publish them, hopefully eventually having them up on Amazon. I’m really pleased with the progress I’ve made on them lately although I would like to be done before I start NaNoWriMo which I know is an incredible amount of pressure to put on myself but there is a plan for it all and realistically it would need to be finished by then for everything else to fall into place.
    No pressure. No trouble.

  • Let’s give this NaNoWriMo a go then.

    National Novel Writing Month.
    It’s coming for us and I am very much looking forward to it.
    First off it will give me a good chance to purge my current writing from my system. I’ve been writing about the same characters and setting for over a year now and I’m almost ready to put the lot to bed, just another fifteen thousand words (approx) to go. I’m hoping that will all be out of the way by November and then the fun can really start.

    I’ve setup my account with NaNoWriMo here, feel free to ‘buddy’ me. I’d like to have a wide selection of people through life, Tumblr, Twitter and my blog taking part and setting up a forum where we can all share our aches and pains. If you’re interested then now is the perfect time to start planning, you’ve got twenty-eight days of planning, plotting and character development to carry out before the meaty task of actually writing begins.

    This is my first year of attempting NaNoWriMo and I’m still juggling the logistics of writing two thousand words a day and holding down a full time job. I’m thinking about writing during my commute and evenings and weekends, and seeing how I’m going after a week.
    I’m also quite pleased with the story outline I’ve got, it’s an idea I’ve been kicking about since October last year when I was so wrapped up in Situation One that I couldn’t have contemplated pausing for something else, but as I said that’s aside now and I’m moving on. This November it’ll be a love story about chaos theory and terrorism, because I can never do anything straight down the line.

    Come join me though, it’ll be an adventure.