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  • Saved.

    I would like to dedicate this post to the fine fellows who saved me from standing awkwardly in the corner of a nightclub last night and took me away to weed, Bram Stoker’s Dracula and talk of the future.

    It was one of those nights where no matter what I tried I just wasn’t going to get drunk, and dance about and have a whale of a time. It was good to see my friends, as it always is, but the dynamic of my favourite watering holes appears to be changing. There was a time when everyone in there looked so cool or mental that you felt you were really part of something, last night it was like a One Direction video. I guess it’s just further proof that I’m getting older, that things can’t stay the same and that we are doomed to repeat our mistakes.

    I’d been abandoned by my friends who were in the pursuit of girls with low self esteem when an old school friend spotted me, and said he was off if I wanted to walk back with him. I’m a firm believer in signs, and I took this as such. I wouldn’t say it was fate but when somebody offers a change in environment a lot of the time I will accept it (as long as it doesn’t involve leaving my beloved Essex). I think that comes from ‘accepting and building’ at Improv, that’s the basis of it all. You take whatever someone says, you accept it – ‘Yes, I will leave this disenchanted hole’ – and then you build – ‘Shall we get high?’ – incredible things can happen just on that basis.

    Got to bed at four after downing beans on toast, woke at ten and cracked on with some work.
    Accept and build.

  • Jack White – Hammersmith Apollo.

    I’m sat on the Hammersmith & City line. I’m as far west as it is possible to go, I have lost most of my weight in sweat and have just witnessed one of the best gigs of my life.

    It took me back to the first time I ever heard Hotel Yorba, it wasn’t like anything I had ever experienced. I knew it was new but it wasn’t the new metal or pop punk plaguing MTV2 and Kerrang, it sounded like an anthem I had heard before, it was so simple and yet so brilliant. Tonight I heard it live alongside tracks from White’s solo album Blunderbuss and hits from his previous incarnations The White Stripes and The Raconteurs. It felt like a gift to my former self to hear those songs live, something that pained me when The White Stripes split because I never got the chance to see them.

    The most noticeable thing on display tonight was White’s leadership, he knows exactly how to play to a crowd, how to draw people in and it isn’t by introducing every song with a corny story or by drawing the whole thing out, he just lets his brilliant songwriting abilities and his expert guitar playing do everything that needed to be done. His supporting band did not drop a beat, they were gathered around him, and watching like hyenas, ready for anything.

    It was a joy to be a part of, and White does things with a guitar that keep most musicians up at night.

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  • Mancrush Friday – Bob Dylan.

    Oh hear this Robert Zimmerman I wrote a blog for you.
    First person to get that reference wins a prize.

    I should probably clarify this by saying that I am mostly talking ’60s Dylan when I say I fancy him a bit – puppy faced troubadour haired folk singer to wire haired purveyor of psychedelia, that was his golden time, and it shows in his music. I’m not saying there is anything wrong with Dylan’s recent outputs, I enjoyed Modern Times and Together Through Life but it’s a world away from the power and the wonder of Blonde On Blonde, Freewheelin’ or Highway 61.

    I think what I love most about Dylan is his ability to change when nobody else wanted him to, he wasn’t happy being labelled a protest singer, or as a revolutionary and he saw what The Beatles were doing having grown up listening to American rock n roll records and thought to himself ‘I’m bringing that back home’ – hence the album title.

    He worked with so many incredible talents over the years and has released an incredible amount of records (not even taking into account the live and bootleg albums) but he has full support and adoration and is respected for his art. That’s a very difficult thing to accomplish, to be revered.

    I know he is not to everyone’s liking, I’ve tried to get countless people into his work, starting with the most accessible hits but it just doesn’t stick. Once you’re on Dylan though, you’re stuck.

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  • Done.

    So after a string of posts where I complained that I hadn’t got up and done something I finally managed to get up and do it yesterday. My first novel; Situation One, is now winging its way to the literary agency Darley Anderson for their perusal. I hope that they can spot something worthwhile in it, that someone there is on the same wavelength as me and that they can find it a market. It shouldn’t be hard, it’s the best book I’ve ever written.

    I don’t know where the push to actually send it off came from, I’ve been deliberating over minuscule changes to the dynamic of sentences for weeks now, and then worrying that my cover letter and synopsis didn’t come off right and in the end I just accepted that I’d written them, and there was a reason that I had written what I had and that was what should go off to the agents so that’s what has gone off. Once that envelope was sealed I was sure of what I was doing, I had the words ‘just do it already’ cycling round my head, those were my Grandma’s words of advice when months ago I griped to her that it was really hard work writing a book. I wish I could call her up and let her know that it’s done.

    The woman in the post office didn’t even congratulate me on my achievement, she just bunged a stamp on it and sent it off to the mystical world of the post office backroom where incredible things we could never even fathom occur. I asked for a proof of posting receipt just so she would know it was a big deal. Afterwards my girlfriend asked me how I felt.
    ‘I feel like it has taken a weight off, it’s out of my hands now’
    ‘That’s good’ she said, ‘are you crying?’
    Just for the record, I wasn’t crying. I had something in my eye, I think it was pride.

  • Further delays.

    Rather than getting everything wrapped up and sorted yesterday I decided to spend an awful lot of time working on my new music project. While this isn’t the worst use of my time, and it was on the agenda for this week sending off my novel was supposed to come first because the sooner it is off, the sooner I get published,write the screenplay, retain the merchandising rights, write the soundtrack, become a millionaire. See, I’m not as all over the place as I make it seem, there is a definite goal, good intentions.

     

    Today I am going shopping though. It’s payday, one of only twelve days a year when my account is in credit. Next week I’m off to Paris so I need to make sure I’ve got enough striped shirts and pencil thin moustaches to see me through. I’m kidding. Usually I’m one of those people who just gets by with what he’s got but holiday is something else. That’s a very British attitude isn’t it. People save all year for their holidays, and that is what this feels like, like I’ve earned it. So I’m going to get some Euros, and possibly some clothes and then take my beloved for lunch, because it’s payday, and I’m avoiding work.

  • Delays.

    I had every intention of sending my novel off yesterday, I just about managed to get the synopsis done before I drifted off into a world of other things to avoid it. That included recording about eight new songs (as basic guitar and vocal tracks) so I can build on them later. The reason I haven’t sent the novel off yet is that I just don’t think it’s ready. This may be my fear of failure kicking it or it may be genuine. My worry is that this is the only chance Situation One will get to be told, if it hits a brick wall I will write something else, I’ll roll out of it but my story gets dropped and that would piss me off.

    The amount of stuff that has gone on in my life while I was working on that book means that it is more than just a piece of writing to me now, although it descriptively covers a part of my own history the things I have gone through since, and as a result of it feel more important. For this not to be published would feel like not only was my University life being condemned (because that’s the period of my life the book is about) but everything I’ve done since, where it has got me, the friendships it has made, all come to nothing. I know that’s not the case but that’s the way it has built up in my head and it’s a very hard thing to shift. I don’t want this story to fail and I have to give it the best chance, I have to read through it again, and make sure it is the best telling it can be of what happened. I owe that to the friends who were there, whether they know about it or not, and I owe that to myself.

    So here goes, 174 pages of A4 to read, and a synopsis to review.
    Wish me luck.

  • Shame – an almost review.

    Last night I finally got to see Shame, the 2011 film directed by Steve McQueen starring Michael Fassbender as Brandon, an outwardly successful thirty something struggling with an addiction to sex.

    It’s an unusual topic for a film I suppose because it’s not something that people are wholly comfortable in accepting or discussing, it’s often seen as being an excuse to not commit to any one person or for acting like a complete bastard. The film leaves little to the imagination in terms of the physical act while simultaneously drawing little more out of the story than is necessary. The backstory of Brandon and his sister Sissy (portrayed brilliantly by Carey Mulligan) is never fully explored despite suggestions that it will be or possibly should be.

    The film is beautiful, using long wide shots which can’t fail to impress, the amount of action coming in and out of these scenes is worth taking account of, the city of New York is the perfect backdrop to show just how lonely one man can be despite his varied encounters and success professionally.

    If you aren’t opposed to strong use of the male genitalia as a story telling technique then it is definitely worth checking out.

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  • Dedicated Follower of Fiction.

    Today marks the start of my two weeks down time from office work. I have set it upon myself to continue to work, because I am still trying to be who I can be, the game is afoot as Shakespeare famously wrote. The reason being that I am finally happy with my novel, I have spent the last year writing it, crying over it, and fine tuning it and it’s ready for the off. I’ve also taken the time to research a number of literary agents and publishers and have shortlisted a few who should be receiving my manuscript within the next week. These are exciting times for me. It’s the culmination of a dream I’ve had since childhood, to be a published author but it’s only in the last two years that I’ve realised it’s what I want to do completely, and that little else satisfies me in the way that sitting on my own in the dark, hammering away at the illuminated keys does.

    Today I must write up the additional information that needs to go with the first three chapters for submission and then it should be all go on Monday. I can’t wait to hear back, even if it’s just a rejection, because that’s not what matters, it’s all a part of the progress and the process and I feel happy within and without. I am at peace.

  • Mancrush Friday – James Franco.

    Last week I mentioned how Jason Schwartzman had a similar appeal to me as that of James Franco so I thought it only fair he had his turn in the spotlight.

    I guess I first saw Franco as Harry Osborn in Spiderman but it was when somebody lent me a copy of the biopic about James Dean in which he stars as the lead that I first started to become interested in his abilities as an actor. Not to say Spiderman isn’t great, or that his performance wasn’t but its a hard thing to get anything serious from, and he was a bit mopey. I was going through a massive James Dean phase at the time and the fact there was somebody living who had played him took on a whole new meaning (like when I saw Toyah Wilcox as Peter Pan in panto).

    From then on I looked out for Franco and have thoroughly enjoyed his recent bout with Hollywood biggies like Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes and 127 Hours. You have to take it back to his appearance in Apatow’s cult TV series Freaks & Geeks to see where it all started though, and to see why his relationship with Rogen in Pineapple Express seems so spot on.

    Another thing about Franco is the strings to his bow, he’s not only an actor but also a writer (with one published collection of short stories Palo Alto to his name, a scholar, a dancer, a filmmaker… That’s something that inspires me a great deal, someone who could sit back and accept that he’s a big screen star but goes out for that challenge, continues with his education, keeps pushing his abilities and what his fortunate position has made him able to afford. What a guy!

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Paul Schiernecker

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