Yesterday was my birthday (thinks: I shall have to update the profile).
I have a cousin who is exactly three days older than me (I also have a friend who's exactly 1 day older but that's not important here) and when I was younger it seemed the important parties were always hers. She lived nearer to the majority of our relatives so our birthdays were combined and took place at the familial epicentre.
This probably isn't actually true but that was the perception.
We had a joint 18th birthday but it was family and her friends mostly - then again I didn't really have a lot of close friends. (See I'm trying to be fair.)
When it came to my 21st I did have a group of friends and we partied away the evening in a large Victorian mansion somewhere in London which was also a recording studio and I spent the evening spinning the discs in a back room. On my own.
Tragic.
Then again I'm not one for big parties. My 30th passed unnoted, we were amused by my 40th, last year my 50th was pretty quiet and for various reasons I was unable to go my cousin's 50th.
The Teacher has a birthday a little over a week before me (she's younger and I'm not giving away the details) but the kids and I managed to make that one quite successful. Best organised one for years. She loves the Biederbecke trilogy and I got it on DVD for her (it's an Alan Plater masterpiece).
So yesterday was my 51st. To be honest we had decided that since we were both running around madly over the weekend (me shooting Monsters and she with the Boy at the BBC) we would defer even our meagre celebrations until next week - I'm to have an official birthday next Saturday.
Honestly I don't know what happened yesterday but it was one of the worst days that I and the Teacher have had in years.
Not on a personal level between ourselves, though it's true we were both tired, but the kids!
We have two of the best kids anyone could possibly want, not only can we take them to places, we can take them back and not to apologise. They are both decent and thoughtful. We almost never have to raise our voices, they never have tantrums (really), they like us and we like them.
But not yesterday.
I'm not going into detail but yesterday they turned into satanic abominations. The Daughter needed kid gloves and the boy needed the Riot Act.
Must be something in the water.
What's on the turntable? "I am the Law" by The Human League from "Dare" - not that I'm a massive Human League fan, but when it's free on Spotify...
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Getting personal
I haven't mentioned much of what I'm about on the personal front recently. My contract with the Open University comes to an end this week, but I am already set up with another contract in Sheffield starting from Monday.
I was particularly interested in the Sheffield job because it meant that I could live at home for a change. Something appreciated by all the family. It should be cheaper - unfortunately it isn't. From where I live to the job is less than 40 miles, a small journey by train - my favoured form of transport. But no. The Pennines are in the way and there's no easy way to do it. So I am forced to lease a car which eats up most of the money I would otherwise have had extra.
This is not to say that I'll be worse off or anything. It's just irritating. Plus the fact I will be wasting 3 hours of my day, every weekday, when I could be writing. Irritating.
Writing-related news
The work on Tec continues on target - dumped another two scenes I didn't much like and incorporated their plot-relevant content elsewhere in a much tighter format. As a general policy I cut back dialogue and action whenever I see something that could be expressed in less words - a by-product of my magazine editor experience where I was forever chopping out the deadwood from other people's prose - often turning complete paragraphs into a single short sentence.
Despite all this cutting back the script is the same length as it was before I started this process - which hopefully means it's getting packed with the good stuff.
The trailer for Monsters will hopefully be getting back on track after a short hiatus - with the producer being on holiday (and getting engaged) - and the director being so busy at work he couldn't do anything. Though he did watch Children of Earth and promises that he saw some neat tricks he's going to steal.
My search for a new illustrator for the Monsters OGN is not going very well at the moment, had a nibble but it didn't go anywhere. Trouble is my requirements are limiting - I'd really prefer an illustrator who knows Manchester.
In other news
The Daughter got her first "trial job" last weekend, at a country house hotel, serving at table like all good actresses. I would have said that they just did it to get some free staff, except they called her today for another event they're hosting on Friday. They'll pay her for that one. Still got a long way to go before she can afford to get to Borneo though. The other positive thing is that she can now put an actual job on her CV.
The Boy is gearing up for the CBBC Bamzooki TV show, they sent him the new software (as yet unreleased, and no you can't have it) the new format looks very exciting. He's been designing his new zooks and will be working with his team next week when they finish school. It also turns out that he's a rather good drummer (as well as playing sax and tenor horn) - I feign annoyance at how talented my kids are.
The Teacher is fine, and very pleased that she's steadily losing weight without dieting. Hope she doesn't go too far, I like my wenches cuddlesome.
What's on the turntable? "I wasn't gonna fall in love" by Carole King from "Love makes the World"
I was particularly interested in the Sheffield job because it meant that I could live at home for a change. Something appreciated by all the family. It should be cheaper - unfortunately it isn't. From where I live to the job is less than 40 miles, a small journey by train - my favoured form of transport. But no. The Pennines are in the way and there's no easy way to do it. So I am forced to lease a car which eats up most of the money I would otherwise have had extra.
This is not to say that I'll be worse off or anything. It's just irritating. Plus the fact I will be wasting 3 hours of my day, every weekday, when I could be writing. Irritating.
Writing-related news
The work on Tec continues on target - dumped another two scenes I didn't much like and incorporated their plot-relevant content elsewhere in a much tighter format. As a general policy I cut back dialogue and action whenever I see something that could be expressed in less words - a by-product of my magazine editor experience where I was forever chopping out the deadwood from other people's prose - often turning complete paragraphs into a single short sentence.
Despite all this cutting back the script is the same length as it was before I started this process - which hopefully means it's getting packed with the good stuff.
The trailer for Monsters will hopefully be getting back on track after a short hiatus - with the producer being on holiday (and getting engaged) - and the director being so busy at work he couldn't do anything. Though he did watch Children of Earth and promises that he saw some neat tricks he's going to steal.
My search for a new illustrator for the Monsters OGN is not going very well at the moment, had a nibble but it didn't go anywhere. Trouble is my requirements are limiting - I'd really prefer an illustrator who knows Manchester.
In other news
The Daughter got her first "trial job" last weekend, at a country house hotel, serving at table like all good actresses. I would have said that they just did it to get some free staff, except they called her today for another event they're hosting on Friday. They'll pay her for that one. Still got a long way to go before she can afford to get to Borneo though. The other positive thing is that she can now put an actual job on her CV.
The Boy is gearing up for the CBBC Bamzooki TV show, they sent him the new software (as yet unreleased, and no you can't have it) the new format looks very exciting. He's been designing his new zooks and will be working with his team next week when they finish school. It also turns out that he's a rather good drummer (as well as playing sax and tenor horn) - I feign annoyance at how talented my kids are.
The Teacher is fine, and very pleased that she's steadily losing weight without dieting. Hope she doesn't go too far, I like my wenches cuddlesome.
What's on the turntable? "I wasn't gonna fall in love" by Carole King from "Love makes the World"
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Happy endings
Although the Teacher only got about 3 hours sleep last night due to worry, the tactics we'd discussed actually worked. She found a suitable document, e-mailed it to the Headteacher. Plus others in her team, equally annoyed, had done their own research and pulled out all sorts of interesting and useful stats.
These all got passed on to the Ofsted inspector - who completely reversed her position and, though it's not official yet, awarded the best grade she was allowed to give. And was very complimentary.
The Teacher is very tired but much happier.
Thanks for your concern, peeps. It's a lesson in never bowing to the inevitable, no matter how battered you might feel.
I'm still making progress on the website I have to work on, spent another 3 hours on it this evening (since most interesting shows have finished their runs for the time being). Be able to get back to writing the real stuff soon. Tomorrow there will be a fairly selfish post about writing.
What's on the turntable? "Don't Interrupt the Sorrow" by Joni Mitchell from "The Hissing of Summer Lawns"
These all got passed on to the Ofsted inspector - who completely reversed her position and, though it's not official yet, awarded the best grade she was allowed to give. And was very complimentary.
The Teacher is very tired but much happier.
Thanks for your concern, peeps. It's a lesson in never bowing to the inevitable, no matter how battered you might feel.
I'm still making progress on the website I have to work on, spent another 3 hours on it this evening (since most interesting shows have finished their runs for the time being). Be able to get back to writing the real stuff soon. Tomorrow there will be a fairly selfish post about writing.
What's on the turntable? "Don't Interrupt the Sorrow" by Joni Mitchell from "The Hissing of Summer Lawns"
Monday, June 15, 2009
Open the vents
Grrrrr.
This is nothing to do with screenwriting.
Just got off the phone to the Teacher who is really upset. Her school is getting the Ofsted treatment. The Teacher is in charge of Foundation, the little ones. This type of unit is run according to the Government's EYFS guidelines. (Early Years and Foundation.)
It is actually pretty good and for the very young ones encourages learning by playing - "child-initiated learning" is the buzz phrase. You give them lots of things they can do, lots of different sorts of experiences and the children do them. They role-play, play with words, letters and numbers and so forth. The "teachers" are there to help, and to put in ideas for the kids to think about and try out. There are guided activities (what you might call "teaching") as well but these tend to be short.
So in comes this woman from Ofsted and thinks it's all a mess and nobody is learning anything, the Teacher is on for a barely Satisfactory rating when actually she is the one who goes round to other schools to help them put in EYFS, her work is exemplary and recognised.
Why does this woman not recognise this? Because she is a Secondary school teacher, Key Stage 3 = teenagers, and she knows nothing about EYFS.
Plus there is no appeal system, so this ignorant woman issues her dictat that says the Foundation stage is barely Satisfactory and that goes on the Teacher's permanent record and there is nothing that can be done about it.
Of course I'm angry. And frustrated because I'm not there, not that there'd be anything I could do even if I was. The only thing is to search the web for a Government document that is a simple guide to EYFS that she can show this stupid woman tomorrow.
I did suggest being all nice and saying "Oh gosh, what you're saying is very interesting - can you show me where it says that in the EYFS guidelines?"
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!
Still working on a Drupal 6 website, getting into the nitty-gritty now, but should be finished soon.
What's on the turntable? "Warning Sign" by Coldplay from "Rush of Blood to the Head"
This is nothing to do with screenwriting.
Just got off the phone to the Teacher who is really upset. Her school is getting the Ofsted treatment. The Teacher is in charge of Foundation, the little ones. This type of unit is run according to the Government's EYFS guidelines. (Early Years and Foundation.)
It is actually pretty good and for the very young ones encourages learning by playing - "child-initiated learning" is the buzz phrase. You give them lots of things they can do, lots of different sorts of experiences and the children do them. They role-play, play with words, letters and numbers and so forth. The "teachers" are there to help, and to put in ideas for the kids to think about and try out. There are guided activities (what you might call "teaching") as well but these tend to be short.
So in comes this woman from Ofsted and thinks it's all a mess and nobody is learning anything, the Teacher is on for a barely Satisfactory rating when actually she is the one who goes round to other schools to help them put in EYFS, her work is exemplary and recognised.
Why does this woman not recognise this? Because she is a Secondary school teacher, Key Stage 3 = teenagers, and she knows nothing about EYFS.
Plus there is no appeal system, so this ignorant woman issues her dictat that says the Foundation stage is barely Satisfactory and that goes on the Teacher's permanent record and there is nothing that can be done about it.
Of course I'm angry. And frustrated because I'm not there, not that there'd be anything I could do even if I was. The only thing is to search the web for a Government document that is a simple guide to EYFS that she can show this stupid woman tomorrow.
I did suggest being all nice and saying "Oh gosh, what you're saying is very interesting - can you show me where it says that in the EYFS guidelines?"
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!
Still working on a Drupal 6 website, getting into the nitty-gritty now, but should be finished soon.
What's on the turntable? "Warning Sign" by Coldplay from "Rush of Blood to the Head"
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Cutting scenes
I mentioned recently somewhere (might have been this blog, might have been an email to someone - it all becomes a blur) that I like cutting abruptly between scenes. I take the principle of "enter late-exit early" as far as I can. And like to contrast scenes where possible.
This relates to the idea of audience "contribution", which is to say that you have to let the viewer / reader / whatever, fill in the gaps. You make a point of not showing everything. That's what subtext is about - the audience interprets what they hear. Sometimes you leave out entire characters (like "She who must be obeyed" from the Rumpole stories - the main character's wife who never appears). The audience creates the character in their own heads.
By entering late and exiting early you make the audience construct what came before and after in their heads - and that pulls them in tighter to the story. They are no longer a spectator, they are a co-creator. Of course it is a balancing act, and different people can create to different degrees of ability which is why people appreciate different things and different types of storytelling.
Although I've always done the scene-cutting thing fairly naturally, it was this article that showed I was on the right track. I tend to be analytical and try to reduce principles to their fundamentals. So if someone says "subtext" and someone else says "enter late-exit early", I do some thinking and ask questions like "are these things related?" and "what's actually going on here?" and then you get something interesting like the commonalities between those principles.
Thenyou test your theory by applying it to other aspects of screenwriting and say "well, does this principle of leaving stuff out so the audience puts it in apply to any other part?" And you might arbitrarily choose "Sound", are there any examples where sound is deliberately left out and the audience puts it in? Certainly. I've certainly seen one film where the sound of someone screaming was deliberately omitted (cinematically justified by having them behind glass). And I know I put that scream in.
And so on.
Anyway I was reading a posting on the Artful Writer - interesting forums though very firmly Hollywood oriented - where someone was discussing montages and someone else pops explaining that Sergei Eisenstein (Director, Battleship Potemkin) had analysed and categorised montages in the 20s.
One of his fundamental principles was that the cutting between images could be used to create conflict and that, of course, is the essence of drama. And you only need to watch Battleship Potemkin to see that theory in practice. He wasn't wrong. And it's another aspect to how as a writer we should consider how our scenes are cut, individually and one to the next.
One of the posters on Artful Writer didn't think that understanding how to edit sequences for the best emotional response was relevant to a writer - that's the editor's job isn't it?
It's relevant because our scripts have to make an impact on the reader (and ultimately the viewer). If we can achieve an Eisenstienian (as opposed to Einsteinium which is a radioactive transuranic element) quality in our writing then we will have a more powerful emotional effect on the reader, and hence stand a far better chance of going further and doing better.
Which has to be a good thing.
In other news
The Boy will be on Bamzooki! Excellent. Apparently they were very impressed with him. (Most people are.) The new series has a new style which requires them to be better in front of the camera, depending on what happens he could be there for just a day or possibly five days. Filming in September.
The Daughter received her Cosplay that she ordered from Hong Kong. Everyone heaves a sigh of relief. They required detailed measurements and it's really well-made. Of course, HK is where you can get a proper tailored suit in 24 hours so we shouldn't be too surprised but considering we ordered it less than two weeks ago, we're impressed. It looks like this.
What's on the turntable? "I could give you (a mirror)" by the Eurythmics from "Sweet Dreams"
This relates to the idea of audience "contribution", which is to say that you have to let the viewer / reader / whatever, fill in the gaps. You make a point of not showing everything. That's what subtext is about - the audience interprets what they hear. Sometimes you leave out entire characters (like "She who must be obeyed" from the Rumpole stories - the main character's wife who never appears). The audience creates the character in their own heads.
By entering late and exiting early you make the audience construct what came before and after in their heads - and that pulls them in tighter to the story. They are no longer a spectator, they are a co-creator. Of course it is a balancing act, and different people can create to different degrees of ability which is why people appreciate different things and different types of storytelling.
Although I've always done the scene-cutting thing fairly naturally, it was this article that showed I was on the right track. I tend to be analytical and try to reduce principles to their fundamentals. So if someone says "subtext" and someone else says "enter late-exit early", I do some thinking and ask questions like "are these things related?" and "what's actually going on here?" and then you get something interesting like the commonalities between those principles.
Thenyou test your theory by applying it to other aspects of screenwriting and say "well, does this principle of leaving stuff out so the audience puts it in apply to any other part?" And you might arbitrarily choose "Sound", are there any examples where sound is deliberately left out and the audience puts it in? Certainly. I've certainly seen one film where the sound of someone screaming was deliberately omitted (cinematically justified by having them behind glass). And I know I put that scream in.
And so on.
Anyway I was reading a posting on the Artful Writer - interesting forums though very firmly Hollywood oriented - where someone was discussing montages and someone else pops explaining that Sergei Eisenstein (Director, Battleship Potemkin) had analysed and categorised montages in the 20s.
One of his fundamental principles was that the cutting between images could be used to create conflict and that, of course, is the essence of drama. And you only need to watch Battleship Potemkin to see that theory in practice. He wasn't wrong. And it's another aspect to how as a writer we should consider how our scenes are cut, individually and one to the next.
One of the posters on Artful Writer didn't think that understanding how to edit sequences for the best emotional response was relevant to a writer - that's the editor's job isn't it?
It's relevant because our scripts have to make an impact on the reader (and ultimately the viewer). If we can achieve an Eisenstienian (as opposed to Einsteinium which is a radioactive transuranic element) quality in our writing then we will have a more powerful emotional effect on the reader, and hence stand a far better chance of going further and doing better.
Which has to be a good thing.
In other news
The Boy will be on Bamzooki! Excellent. Apparently they were very impressed with him. (Most people are.) The new series has a new style which requires them to be better in front of the camera, depending on what happens he could be there for just a day or possibly five days. Filming in September.
The Daughter received her Cosplay that she ordered from Hong Kong. Everyone heaves a sigh of relief. They required detailed measurements and it's really well-made. Of course, HK is where you can get a proper tailored suit in 24 hours so we shouldn't be too surprised but considering we ordered it less than two weeks ago, we're impressed. It looks like this.
What's on the turntable? "I could give you (a mirror)" by the Eurythmics from "Sweet Dreams"
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Squirrel love call
I'm not good with hot weather. A problem that's aggravated by the fact that I'm in a room built into the roof of a house, and it's south facing. The last few days I've been baking when I get back from work, and sleeping badly.
But with the heat off this evening I've been cooking. Unfortunately it's been doing stuff other than writing scripts. Letters, emails, text messages, blogs - all important, as it happens.
I had a really significant thought about screenwriting I wanted to share with you. I've forgotten it.
Did I mention that the Boy got through that last round of the Bamzooki audition system? Well, he did, now they've asked for a sample Zook to decide whether he is skilled at the construction aspect.
Inktip
Hm. I did wonder why the same company kept reading my logline on Inktip. then I remembered some of the instructions: when it comes to loglines they are counted when they come up in a search. So they might not actually be read. Obviously this company is looking for SF/Action/Female protagonist - but probably feature not TV.
Nature calls
So there I was walking home the other evening when I heard a strange sound. It comprised a sort of throat-grating "chuck chuck" followed by a painful sounding screech. I'm no expert on nature but I was fairly sure it wasn't a bird, or if it was I had no idea what sort. So I backed up and tried to find the source. It was in a tree. It was grey. Had four legs and bushy tail. Yes indeed, a randy buck squirrel looking for a babe squirrel to hook up with. Up there on a branch saying "look what a big brush I've got".
This morning there were a couple of squirrels hanging out close to the same spot. Near a river, she was playing hard to get. Isn't nature wonderful.
What's on the turntable? "The Return of the Blues Cowboy" by Jools Holland with his Rhythm and Blues Orchestra featuring Joe Strummer. If this album doesn't get you dancing then you're already dead. (I will dance in private.)
But with the heat off this evening I've been cooking. Unfortunately it's been doing stuff other than writing scripts. Letters, emails, text messages, blogs - all important, as it happens.
I had a really significant thought about screenwriting I wanted to share with you. I've forgotten it.
Did I mention that the Boy got through that last round of the Bamzooki audition system? Well, he did, now they've asked for a sample Zook to decide whether he is skilled at the construction aspect.
Inktip
Hm. I did wonder why the same company kept reading my logline on Inktip. then I remembered some of the instructions: when it comes to loglines they are counted when they come up in a search. So they might not actually be read. Obviously this company is looking for SF/Action/Female protagonist - but probably feature not TV.
Nature calls
So there I was walking home the other evening when I heard a strange sound. It comprised a sort of throat-grating "chuck chuck" followed by a painful sounding screech. I'm no expert on nature but I was fairly sure it wasn't a bird, or if it was I had no idea what sort. So I backed up and tried to find the source. It was in a tree. It was grey. Had four legs and bushy tail. Yes indeed, a randy buck squirrel looking for a babe squirrel to hook up with. Up there on a branch saying "look what a big brush I've got".
This morning there were a couple of squirrels hanging out close to the same spot. Near a river, she was playing hard to get. Isn't nature wonderful.
What's on the turntable? "The Return of the Blues Cowboy" by Jools Holland with his Rhythm and Blues Orchestra featuring Joe Strummer. If this album doesn't get you dancing then you're already dead. (I will dance in private.)
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Miscellany
Yesterday's train was held up for about an hour en route, which meant I got lots more writing done on Tec. Now on 34 pages so I could, theoretically finish by tomorrow - writing 21 pages in two days is feasible - but I suspect it's a bit much with my weekend schedule.
I do sometimes wonder whether I'm justified in travelling First Class, I always use the cheapest option of First Class, but it's still not cheap. (Except when it's cheaper than standard, which does happen.) But then I think: I would be wasting hours of my time if I didn't. And I cannot work in the press of people that is Standard Class. So it's that or do nothing except maybe read.
Reading is fine, except: Because the train was late I missed my Manchester connection and had 50 minutes to kill. So I found myself in WHSmith desperate for something to read. I looked at the magazines: Nothing inspired me. I looked at the books. Nothing. Even though there are writers that I like with books I hadn't read, like Bill Bryson. I just had no enthusiasm for anything on display.
I was just walking out when Astronomy magazine caught my eye. I've always been interested in space, but my knowledge of current cosmological thinking was many years out of date. So I bought that, quite cheap too. Excellent, I could bury myself in some interesting cosmological theories and ideas including how a more accurate measurement of Hubble's Constant (the rate at which the universe is expanding) has ruled out various theories as to the nature of dark matter. Cool.
My Shooting People pitch of Monsters has yielded a communication from someone who hadn't read the script for that yet but had read Air and really liked it. Which was nice. There may be a future in that contact, we shall see.
Regular readers may have noticed that I have not mentioned the comic book version of Monsters for a while. This is because the illustrator has had to go off to Ireland for a while.
The Boy has been at SpaceCamp all week, building rockets that really go up. We had received a phone call from the school saying "don't go you haven't got a place" but the Teacher hadn't picked up the message. Since other kids hadn't turned up anyway the Boy got in. And his team came second out of 22 by the end of the week. (They had to do Dragon's Den-type presentations and all sorts.)
And then he got a call from CBBC saying that he was through to the next round of the Bamzooki TV show, so a good week for him.
The Daughter has been revising for her final A-Level exams starting on Tuesday but went to give blood yesterday (something she's been trying to do for several months). It all went reasonably well although, like the Teacher, she has veins that like to hide. Making it difficult to get the needle in. (I am physically incapable of giving blood - look, I just can't okay? Just writing that previous sentence about the needle made me feel woozy.) However the Daughter almost fainted three times afterwards so the Teacher had to go and collect her. She was advised to drink a lot more water before giving blood next time.
I was underwhelmed by the level of interest on Inktip yesterday and I'm seriously doubting anything else will happen before the end of my free trial.
What's on the turntable? (The daughter is talking about The Odyssey.)
I do sometimes wonder whether I'm justified in travelling First Class, I always use the cheapest option of First Class, but it's still not cheap. (Except when it's cheaper than standard, which does happen.) But then I think: I would be wasting hours of my time if I didn't. And I cannot work in the press of people that is Standard Class. So it's that or do nothing except maybe read.
Reading is fine, except: Because the train was late I missed my Manchester connection and had 50 minutes to kill. So I found myself in WHSmith desperate for something to read. I looked at the magazines: Nothing inspired me. I looked at the books. Nothing. Even though there are writers that I like with books I hadn't read, like Bill Bryson. I just had no enthusiasm for anything on display.
I was just walking out when Astronomy magazine caught my eye. I've always been interested in space, but my knowledge of current cosmological thinking was many years out of date. So I bought that, quite cheap too. Excellent, I could bury myself in some interesting cosmological theories and ideas including how a more accurate measurement of Hubble's Constant (the rate at which the universe is expanding) has ruled out various theories as to the nature of dark matter. Cool.
My Shooting People pitch of Monsters has yielded a communication from someone who hadn't read the script for that yet but had read Air and really liked it. Which was nice. There may be a future in that contact, we shall see.
Regular readers may have noticed that I have not mentioned the comic book version of Monsters for a while. This is because the illustrator has had to go off to Ireland for a while.
The Boy has been at SpaceCamp all week, building rockets that really go up. We had received a phone call from the school saying "don't go you haven't got a place" but the Teacher hadn't picked up the message. Since other kids hadn't turned up anyway the Boy got in. And his team came second out of 22 by the end of the week. (They had to do Dragon's Den-type presentations and all sorts.)
And then he got a call from CBBC saying that he was through to the next round of the Bamzooki TV show, so a good week for him.
The Daughter has been revising for her final A-Level exams starting on Tuesday but went to give blood yesterday (something she's been trying to do for several months). It all went reasonably well although, like the Teacher, she has veins that like to hide. Making it difficult to get the needle in. (I am physically incapable of giving blood - look, I just can't okay? Just writing that previous sentence about the needle made me feel woozy.) However the Daughter almost fainted three times afterwards so the Teacher had to go and collect her. She was advised to drink a lot more water before giving blood next time.
I was underwhelmed by the level of interest on Inktip yesterday and I'm seriously doubting anything else will happen before the end of my free trial.
What's on the turntable? (The daughter is talking about The Odyssey.)
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Touched
...and I probably am.
Thanks everyone for your kind words.
As I may have implied the Teacher and I don't actually expect much from other people (not meaning that in a critical way, but other people have their own lives). But that doesn't mean we aren't delighted when we receive something.
We certainly weren't expecting a present of any kind. I sent flowers to the Teacher's school, of course, although they apparently arrived in a box which was ignored - until the Caretaker noticed the box was a bit damp, then noticed "Interflora" and thought "Flowers".
At the weekend I had gone shopping as usual with the Boy early Saturday morning, and got him choose a 25th wedding anniversary card for him and the Daughter to give us. I had also spoken to the Daughter about "Doing something" - she had whined at me "but I don't know what to do, I haven't got any money".
Did I mention she wants to be an actress? Well, she had me completely fooled. (And, yes, that does take some doing, the Teacher and I can usually read those two like an open book.)
The Teacher was given a pair of tickets this morning. To "We Will Rock You", in two weeks, in Manchester.
The little sweetie had organised it and got my younger sister to buy the tickets, the money being contributed by parents and siblings.
I'm sitting here with a silly grin on my face.
What's on the turntable? "Morbio Gorge" by Gordon Giltrap from "Perilous Journey"
Thanks everyone for your kind words.
As I may have implied the Teacher and I don't actually expect much from other people (not meaning that in a critical way, but other people have their own lives). But that doesn't mean we aren't delighted when we receive something.
We certainly weren't expecting a present of any kind. I sent flowers to the Teacher's school, of course, although they apparently arrived in a box which was ignored - until the Caretaker noticed the box was a bit damp, then noticed "Interflora" and thought "Flowers".
At the weekend I had gone shopping as usual with the Boy early Saturday morning, and got him choose a 25th wedding anniversary card for him and the Daughter to give us. I had also spoken to the Daughter about "Doing something" - she had whined at me "but I don't know what to do, I haven't got any money".
Did I mention she wants to be an actress? Well, she had me completely fooled. (And, yes, that does take some doing, the Teacher and I can usually read those two like an open book.)
The Teacher was given a pair of tickets this morning. To "We Will Rock You", in two weeks, in Manchester.
The little sweetie had organised it and got my younger sister to buy the tickets, the money being contributed by parents and siblings.
I'm sitting here with a silly grin on my face.
What's on the turntable? "Morbio Gorge" by Gordon Giltrap from "Perilous Journey"
The Confidence Trick
Today is the 25th Wedding Anniversary of the Teacher and I.
We've been so busy we hadn't even thought about what we would do to celebrate. In some ways we don't really think it's necessary - we don't need to celebrate because we are who we are.
Does that make any sense?
Celebrating is what is expected, but both of us have spent our lives not doing what's expected, we don't need anyone's approval - except each other's.
Which brings me to the title of this blog.
You see, the Teacher said something to me which was, quite honestly, the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me in my entire life. A mere eight words. Not especially private but so packed with subtext that I was stopped in my tracks. She writes the best dialogue. Did wonders for my self-confidence. I won't say what the words were because they mean very little out of context - in fact they would seem corny.
There are several reasons we've lasted 25 years, but there's no "trick" that anyone else can employ: One is that we agree on almost everything (not to say we don't argue sometimes, but it's quite rare); we are so stubborn that we both decided long ago that nothing would get in our way; never taking each other for granted; and then there's the "L" word, though the word "Love" doesn't do any justice to what's between us.
So what's love got to do with it?
We met at a student party in Manchester (although I wasn't a student any more) - we were both friends of the person who was running it. My first words to the Teacher (she wasn't actually a teacher then, of course) were "I'm getting over a bad affair." "Oh, really?" she said, and left quickly. It was one of the two times in my life I've been drunk - though I was never so drunk as to forget what was happening.
It wasn't love at first sight but there was something about her. I did talk to her a bit later on but didn't ask her name. The following day I asked our mutual friend who she was. The mutual friend (who had been a girlfriend of mine at one time) seemed to think that we would be right for each other so gave me her number.
So I made dinner for the Teacher. She told me afterwards she'd had a long chat with the mutual friend about me and apparently I got a decent reference. I was safe to have dinner with, although the Greek mushrooms didn't work.
We spent a few months getting to know each other and then the Teacher went to India for 6 weeks. When she came back I proposed (for the third time) and she accepted.
Is it love? I don't think so, at least not what most people think of when they say "love". It is more than love - more like a crystalline certainty and an unquestionable rightness. Impossible to describe.
We married less than a year later (we met December 1982, married May 1984). Neither of us could ever see the point of long engagements. An engagement is "an engagement to marry" so if you don't get married then you're living a lie. (We are two of a kind and can be very unsympathetic.)
The Teacher has no family (I mean no family) which is very sad, but I have more than enough for both of us. But then given our tendency for self-reliance this has never been an issue. Apparently I wouldn't have liked her mother (who had died shortly before we met), and her mother wouldn't have liked me.
The rest is 25 years of marital bliss ... well no. Who in their right minds wants "bliss"? Bleaugh!
Twenty-five years of stubbornly doing things our way. Making huge mistakes and pulling ourselves out of the holes we dug ourselves into.
But, you know, to hell with what's expected. Play the game your own way.
What's on the turntable? "White Fool" by Clannad from "Pastpresent"
We've been so busy we hadn't even thought about what we would do to celebrate. In some ways we don't really think it's necessary - we don't need to celebrate because we are who we are.
Does that make any sense?
Celebrating is what is expected, but both of us have spent our lives not doing what's expected, we don't need anyone's approval - except each other's.
Which brings me to the title of this blog.
You see, the Teacher said something to me which was, quite honestly, the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me in my entire life. A mere eight words. Not especially private but so packed with subtext that I was stopped in my tracks. She writes the best dialogue. Did wonders for my self-confidence. I won't say what the words were because they mean very little out of context - in fact they would seem corny.
There are several reasons we've lasted 25 years, but there's no "trick" that anyone else can employ: One is that we agree on almost everything (not to say we don't argue sometimes, but it's quite rare); we are so stubborn that we both decided long ago that nothing would get in our way; never taking each other for granted; and then there's the "L" word, though the word "Love" doesn't do any justice to what's between us.
So what's love got to do with it?
We met at a student party in Manchester (although I wasn't a student any more) - we were both friends of the person who was running it. My first words to the Teacher (she wasn't actually a teacher then, of course) were "I'm getting over a bad affair." "Oh, really?" she said, and left quickly. It was one of the two times in my life I've been drunk - though I was never so drunk as to forget what was happening.
It wasn't love at first sight but there was something about her. I did talk to her a bit later on but didn't ask her name. The following day I asked our mutual friend who she was. The mutual friend (who had been a girlfriend of mine at one time) seemed to think that we would be right for each other so gave me her number.
So I made dinner for the Teacher. She told me afterwards she'd had a long chat with the mutual friend about me and apparently I got a decent reference. I was safe to have dinner with, although the Greek mushrooms didn't work.
We spent a few months getting to know each other and then the Teacher went to India for 6 weeks. When she came back I proposed (for the third time) and she accepted.
Is it love? I don't think so, at least not what most people think of when they say "love". It is more than love - more like a crystalline certainty and an unquestionable rightness. Impossible to describe.
We married less than a year later (we met December 1982, married May 1984). Neither of us could ever see the point of long engagements. An engagement is "an engagement to marry" so if you don't get married then you're living a lie. (We are two of a kind and can be very unsympathetic.)
The Teacher has no family (I mean no family) which is very sad, but I have more than enough for both of us. But then given our tendency for self-reliance this has never been an issue. Apparently I wouldn't have liked her mother (who had died shortly before we met), and her mother wouldn't have liked me.
The rest is 25 years of marital bliss ... well no. Who in their right minds wants "bliss"? Bleaugh!
Twenty-five years of stubbornly doing things our way. Making huge mistakes and pulling ourselves out of the holes we dug ourselves into.
But, you know, to hell with what's expected. Play the game your own way.
What's on the turntable? "White Fool" by Clannad from "Pastpresent"
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Sounds like...
If I had any criticism of "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" - and I should like to point out that I loved it, Aaron Sorkin is a genius - it would be that every character was smart, each one had a wise-crack on their lips. Every single one of them.
But then I didn't watch it for realism I watched it for satirical brilliance. And that's what I got.
But sameness of characters is something that has bothered me recently - not sameness within a script, I know I don't do that but sameness between scripts. I have been creating these scripts and been concerned that my lead characters are all the same. I mean they're not actually the same but they have similar mind-sets.
Then something occurred to me this evening: they won't be played by the same actor (unless my cunning plan to have my daughter play all the lead roles comes to fruition). And every actor will bring something different to the different roles - so it really doesn't matter. (Heaves sigh of relief.)
I'm now up to 13 pages of Tec. It's going to need some tightening but this is only the first draft.
On the home front: The Boy's audition for CBBC show Bamzooki went very well yesterday, as far as I can tell. He's very calm, genuine and has no problem treating adults as equals (because most of the adults he knows treat him as an equal). Anyway he took the leadership of the group he was put in, without being "controlling" - he's a natural leader, like his sister, and his mother - fearlessly did the presentations that were required. And had no problem working with the camera - he'd had some previous experience of that when he auditioned for "Are You Smarter Than a 10 Year Old?".
I was in the other room with the parents who were all nice people - decent and caring, wanting their child to succeed but no pushiness, and happy that they've "had the experience".
Apparently the latest we'll hear is July.
What's on the turntable? Nothing, forgot to put some music on.
But then I didn't watch it for realism I watched it for satirical brilliance. And that's what I got.
But sameness of characters is something that has bothered me recently - not sameness within a script, I know I don't do that but sameness between scripts. I have been creating these scripts and been concerned that my lead characters are all the same. I mean they're not actually the same but they have similar mind-sets.
Then something occurred to me this evening: they won't be played by the same actor (unless my cunning plan to have my daughter play all the lead roles comes to fruition). And every actor will bring something different to the different roles - so it really doesn't matter. (Heaves sigh of relief.)
I'm now up to 13 pages of Tec. It's going to need some tightening but this is only the first draft.
On the home front: The Boy's audition for CBBC show Bamzooki went very well yesterday, as far as I can tell. He's very calm, genuine and has no problem treating adults as equals (because most of the adults he knows treat him as an equal). Anyway he took the leadership of the group he was put in, without being "controlling" - he's a natural leader, like his sister, and his mother - fearlessly did the presentations that were required. And had no problem working with the camera - he'd had some previous experience of that when he auditioned for "Are You Smarter Than a 10 Year Old?".
I was in the other room with the parents who were all nice people - decent and caring, wanting their child to succeed but no pushiness, and happy that they've "had the experience".
Apparently the latest we'll hear is July.
What's on the turntable? Nothing, forgot to put some music on.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Plan 9 (from Inner Space)
If you've never seen the real Plan 9 from Outer Space it's an experience that you shouldn't deny yourself. It is, arguably, the very worst film ever made - which makes it a classic, of course. It's not just the awful script, the awful acting, the totally awful "special" effects; it's the appalling direction, the appalling editing and the fact that on some of the days that they were filming the night scenes they forgot the night filter for the camera. But they filmed it anyway and cut it all together so that sections of the film flip from day to night and back. Truly bad.
But this isn't about that. It's about the fact I can't write short stories or short films.
I have been planning Tec. This is supposed to be a detective TV series, you know, the sort that has a new story every week. And I have that, I have the setting arranged so I can have a different story every week. Honest.
But those damn characters make a bigger story. I've been making notes about the various lead and supporting regular cast, bits of background and so on, so that when I start I'll have enough to be able to hear their voices saying the words I give them.
Writers deal in consequences "if that happens then that other thing will happen and then..." We guide those consequences in the direction that we want them to go for the most part.
So I'm writing back story: The protagonist is the sort of person who really wouldn't end up in prison, but she did and now she's out. She committed a cyber-crime that, while it doesn't actually hurt people (and certainly not in this case) Governments are paranoid about it and you get banged up for a long time in a high security prison.
The implications of this, and how she got there, are enormous. The consequences are huge. She's an interesting character with a hell of a past, which she can't escape from.
The end result of that is a story arc across all six episodes, intermingled with the story of the week. I'm not planning to write the entire series, as with Monsters I'll just write the pilot, but everything will be connected so I have to know what it is before I start.
So I'm planning and it keeps getting bigger.
Beyond character backgrounds I'm also doing ideas for plot arcs. Lots of this won't ever appear, and might become cancelled out by something else in the story as I write it. And new things will very definitely appear as I write.
There's still lots more thinking to do before it's time to start writing - after all I'm still wavering on the opening scene. I need that crystallised before I start. On the other hand I already have the final scenes at the end of Episode 6 decided.
Writing's a funny game.
In other news: The Boy has been cast as Fat Sam in the school production of Bugsy Malone next (academic) year. He already knows most of it as the whole family loves that film, it can be watched as many times as you like and still be fresh. The Daughter failed to get into any drama college for next year (though she met people who had been trying for years). The Oxford one she didn't like - they barely listened to her audition; RADA were too serious and completely failed to appreciate the humour in her contemporary audition piece; The Bristol Old Vic liked her a lot, told her she had excellent comic timing but said she was too young and weren't entirely happy with her Shakespeare interpretation (they also said come back next year). So she'll be going to Borneo instead, to push baby orangutans around in a wheelbarrow.
What's on the turntable? "Coinleach Ghlas an Fhómhair" by Clannad from the compilation "Pastpresent"
But this isn't about that. It's about the fact I can't write short stories or short films.
I have been planning Tec. This is supposed to be a detective TV series, you know, the sort that has a new story every week. And I have that, I have the setting arranged so I can have a different story every week. Honest.
But those damn characters make a bigger story. I've been making notes about the various lead and supporting regular cast, bits of background and so on, so that when I start I'll have enough to be able to hear their voices saying the words I give them.
Writers deal in consequences "if that happens then that other thing will happen and then..." We guide those consequences in the direction that we want them to go for the most part.
So I'm writing back story: The protagonist is the sort of person who really wouldn't end up in prison, but she did and now she's out. She committed a cyber-crime that, while it doesn't actually hurt people (and certainly not in this case) Governments are paranoid about it and you get banged up for a long time in a high security prison.
The implications of this, and how she got there, are enormous. The consequences are huge. She's an interesting character with a hell of a past, which she can't escape from.
The end result of that is a story arc across all six episodes, intermingled with the story of the week. I'm not planning to write the entire series, as with Monsters I'll just write the pilot, but everything will be connected so I have to know what it is before I start.
So I'm planning and it keeps getting bigger.
Beyond character backgrounds I'm also doing ideas for plot arcs. Lots of this won't ever appear, and might become cancelled out by something else in the story as I write it. And new things will very definitely appear as I write.
There's still lots more thinking to do before it's time to start writing - after all I'm still wavering on the opening scene. I need that crystallised before I start. On the other hand I already have the final scenes at the end of Episode 6 decided.
Writing's a funny game.
In other news: The Boy has been cast as Fat Sam in the school production of Bugsy Malone next (academic) year. He already knows most of it as the whole family loves that film, it can be watched as many times as you like and still be fresh. The Daughter failed to get into any drama college for next year (though she met people who had been trying for years). The Oxford one she didn't like - they barely listened to her audition; RADA were too serious and completely failed to appreciate the humour in her contemporary audition piece; The Bristol Old Vic liked her a lot, told her she had excellent comic timing but said she was too young and weren't entirely happy with her Shakespeare interpretation (they also said come back next year). So she'll be going to Borneo instead, to push baby orangutans around in a wheelbarrow.
What's on the turntable? "Coinleach Ghlas an Fhómhair" by Clannad from the compilation "Pastpresent"
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Coming of Age
I have done almost nothing for the last couple of days - well, when I say "nothing" it's not really nothing. Just not writing.
Today is the Daughter's 18th Birthday, she was out with her friends yesterday, seeing "Wolverine" followed by an all-you-can-eat Chinese. Then back for a sleep-over. She doesn't do clubbing and doesn't drink alcohol at all. Today we're off to a country fair, mostly horses and dogs. Tomorrow we'll all go and see "Wolverine" as a family.
The Teacher is working today, of course. Good teachers do rather more work than people give them credit for. (She was particularly annoyed at the report that came out last week about education "That's what good teachers do! And we've been doing it for years!" was her (edited) response.
In fact I didn't get to post this before so we went to the fair. We didn't have coats or hats and it was windy and rained a bit (we are usually better organised than this). But we decided to have a good time, so we did. As this is a country fair with dogs it means that dogs are allowed. So we took the puppy with us. I say "puppy", he is only about 1 year old but he's a good size and full of energy. Someone suggested the word "doglet" for a dog that's fully grown but not mature. We decided to put Toby in for one of the dog classes: the Teacher chose "Friendliest Dog".
The Daughter took him into the ring and encouraged him to wag his tail. That's not hard, he is a super-friendly dog and his tail is a dangerous weapon. He came 4th and got a rosette for doing the only thing he knows. Wagging his tail.
That's a terrible lie, for a dog he is very intelligent which is a bad thing in a male dog: The intelligent ones are the ones that try to take over the pack. And he often tries to move up the pecking order by arguing and has to be slapped down hard - for his own good. On the other hand he is very sweet-tempered.
Personally I really am more of a cat person, but I don't have a problem being the pack's alpha male for the sake of keeping the puppy happy. (Interesting fact: A wolf pack's alpha female won't mate with any male except the alpha male - which essentially makes it her choice if there are two equal contenders, which occasionally happens.)
On the writing side I have been thinking very hard. Although I am very keen to write Tec there is another spec script which could be very beneficial to my career - perhaps more so in the short term and it's potentially time critical. I'm not sure of the best course of action so I shall have to consult with my consultant.
What's on the turntable? Nuffink
Today is the Daughter's 18th Birthday, she was out with her friends yesterday, seeing "Wolverine" followed by an all-you-can-eat Chinese. Then back for a sleep-over. She doesn't do clubbing and doesn't drink alcohol at all. Today we're off to a country fair, mostly horses and dogs. Tomorrow we'll all go and see "Wolverine" as a family.
The Teacher is working today, of course. Good teachers do rather more work than people give them credit for. (She was particularly annoyed at the report that came out last week about education "That's what good teachers do! And we've been doing it for years!" was her (edited) response.
In fact I didn't get to post this before so we went to the fair. We didn't have coats or hats and it was windy and rained a bit (we are usually better organised than this). But we decided to have a good time, so we did. As this is a country fair with dogs it means that dogs are allowed. So we took the puppy with us. I say "puppy", he is only about 1 year old but he's a good size and full of energy. Someone suggested the word "doglet" for a dog that's fully grown but not mature. We decided to put Toby in for one of the dog classes: the Teacher chose "Friendliest Dog".
The Daughter took him into the ring and encouraged him to wag his tail. That's not hard, he is a super-friendly dog and his tail is a dangerous weapon. He came 4th and got a rosette for doing the only thing he knows. Wagging his tail.
That's a terrible lie, for a dog he is very intelligent which is a bad thing in a male dog: The intelligent ones are the ones that try to take over the pack. And he often tries to move up the pecking order by arguing and has to be slapped down hard - for his own good. On the other hand he is very sweet-tempered.
Personally I really am more of a cat person, but I don't have a problem being the pack's alpha male for the sake of keeping the puppy happy. (Interesting fact: A wolf pack's alpha female won't mate with any male except the alpha male - which essentially makes it her choice if there are two equal contenders, which occasionally happens.)
On the writing side I have been thinking very hard. Although I am very keen to write Tec there is another spec script which could be very beneficial to my career - perhaps more so in the short term and it's potentially time critical. I'm not sure of the best course of action so I shall have to consult with my consultant.
What's on the turntable? Nuffink
Monday, April 20, 2009
Soul ravioli
This is going to be a bit of a random post - hello to you if you followed the link from my Shooting People post.
I need another coffee.
The disadvantage of being a contractor is that there is that awkward time between jobs when you wonder whether you're going to get another one - and it happens every couple of months. I failed to get that Sheffield job. [sigh] The agent for the job was very put-out, in fact quite angry - she said "Perhaps he won't turn up, or he'll be rubbish."
He probably won't be rubbish. But contractors often don't turn up - apparently.
So today I shall to spend a big chunk of time contacting agencies and generally job hunting. I reckon we have about a month of money before things get tight. Trouble is the Teacher is a terrible worrier - well, no, actually she's extraordinarily good at worrying.
The Daughter is at her RADA audition this week, the Boy is not jetting off to any foreign countries in the forseeable future - but he's started working his way through the book of saxophone solos. Amazing how good the sax can sound even when it's not being played brilliantly - and he's not bad.
Oh, we all went to see "Monsters Vs Aliens" - it's fun. Most of the jokes are for adults but there's plenty of visual stuff for younger kids. The opening sequence introducing Susan and her situation is probably a couple of scenes too long but once you're past those the pace is pretty solid.
I should also mention we saw it in 3D. Excellent, some of the scenes (like the Rings of Saturn in the opening) were just wonderful.
Of course you can't believe anything I say - after all I preferred "Space Chimps" to "Wall-E", but I do have a reason. Of course Wall-E was technically beautiful but it is not the protagonist who beats the antagonist in the story. Wall-E has no desire to change anything, except make Eve like him, if he had not been in the story what would have changed? "Chimps" had a clear protagonist/antagonist conflict and structure.
I really liked Wall-E - I just thought Chimps was a better story. And funnier.
After the film I said to the Boy: "What was the film about?" "About her learning that she can do anything she wants" he says wisely. As I have mentioned previously, he's got a natural feel for TV/Film even at 11 years old, he also has a great sense of humour (he's been brought up on the right material).
The family were eating ravioli - the Daughter says "What's in ravioli?" with perfect timing the Boy growls "Your soul." Hilarity ensues. (Did I mention we are the Non Sequitur Family?)
Of course our kids are doomed. Can't remember what we were watching but it was an interview with some actor who's father was a screenwriter and mother was a teacher. A devastating combination - they are doomed to a life in entertainment. (Especially as the Teacher is also a writer, and I have been known to teach once in a while.)
Must get on, got the household chores to do, jobs to apply for - and screenplays to write.
(Hm, just had a call about a job in Brussels - not ideal, I suspect the pay won't be enough to cover the costs and taxes are higher.)
What's on the turntable? "You Better You Bet" The Who. Would you prefer to be a Mod or a Rocker?
I need another coffee.
The disadvantage of being a contractor is that there is that awkward time between jobs when you wonder whether you're going to get another one - and it happens every couple of months. I failed to get that Sheffield job. [sigh] The agent for the job was very put-out, in fact quite angry - she said "Perhaps he won't turn up, or he'll be rubbish."
He probably won't be rubbish. But contractors often don't turn up - apparently.
So today I shall to spend a big chunk of time contacting agencies and generally job hunting. I reckon we have about a month of money before things get tight. Trouble is the Teacher is a terrible worrier - well, no, actually she's extraordinarily good at worrying.
The Daughter is at her RADA audition this week, the Boy is not jetting off to any foreign countries in the forseeable future - but he's started working his way through the book of saxophone solos. Amazing how good the sax can sound even when it's not being played brilliantly - and he's not bad.
Oh, we all went to see "Monsters Vs Aliens" - it's fun. Most of the jokes are for adults but there's plenty of visual stuff for younger kids. The opening sequence introducing Susan and her situation is probably a couple of scenes too long but once you're past those the pace is pretty solid.
I should also mention we saw it in 3D. Excellent, some of the scenes (like the Rings of Saturn in the opening) were just wonderful.
Of course you can't believe anything I say - after all I preferred "Space Chimps" to "Wall-E", but I do have a reason. Of course Wall-E was technically beautiful but it is not the protagonist who beats the antagonist in the story. Wall-E has no desire to change anything, except make Eve like him, if he had not been in the story what would have changed? "Chimps" had a clear protagonist/antagonist conflict and structure.
I really liked Wall-E - I just thought Chimps was a better story. And funnier.
After the film I said to the Boy: "What was the film about?" "About her learning that she can do anything she wants" he says wisely. As I have mentioned previously, he's got a natural feel for TV/Film even at 11 years old, he also has a great sense of humour (he's been brought up on the right material).
The family were eating ravioli - the Daughter says "What's in ravioli?" with perfect timing the Boy growls "Your soul." Hilarity ensues. (Did I mention we are the Non Sequitur Family?)
Of course our kids are doomed. Can't remember what we were watching but it was an interview with some actor who's father was a screenwriter and mother was a teacher. A devastating combination - they are doomed to a life in entertainment. (Especially as the Teacher is also a writer, and I have been known to teach once in a while.)
Must get on, got the household chores to do, jobs to apply for - and screenplays to write.
(Hm, just had a call about a job in Brussels - not ideal, I suspect the pay won't be enough to cover the costs and taxes are higher.)
What's on the turntable? "You Better You Bet" The Who. Would you prefer to be a Mod or a Rocker?
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Unsettled
Here I am in my parent's house North of London. I've already had an argument with my Dad [sigh]. Had no e-mail for over 24 hours but now connected with the help of parent's neighbours - with their approval.
Came down on the train yester-eve, and spent the time figuring out the plot structure for Running using one of Jeff Kitchen's writing tools (called Sequence-Proposition-Plot - I'm not going to explain it - get the book). This is another tool for ensuring your plot is tightly focussed and doesn't have extraneous stuff lying around. It also makes you actually look at your plot.
I don;t know about you but I sometimes pretend I'm working out the plot when I'm not really, I'm just fiddling around.
I've signed in to ScriptFrenzy but need to get some pages written today - I'm currently on about 6 pages a day required to finish in time. If I write more than that each day then I'll make things easier as I approach the end.
Feeling a bit low because, though I am pleased for all the scribosphere Red Planet finalists who've been invited to Tony Jordan's masterclass - I'm not one of them. Disappointing.
Clearly: Must Try Harder.
Better stop prevaricating and get writing... (must just get the progress bar set up).
(The interview in Sheffield seemed to go okay, but I never seem to do well in the interviews up north - is it because I have a posh southern accent?)
Later that evening...
The progress bar isn't working ... perhaps Google have changed the interface.
Anyway, I've been writing like a man possessed and knocked out 5 pages in the last 90 minutes. With the pages I've already done that brings me up to 16 pages. So my average (for reasons of mathematics) has dropped from 6 pages a day down to 5.6 pages a day. But from now on I really must exceed that and write at least 6 per day.
What's on the turntable? "Amarok" by Mike Oldfield
Came down on the train yester-eve, and spent the time figuring out the plot structure for Running using one of Jeff Kitchen's writing tools (called Sequence-Proposition-Plot - I'm not going to explain it - get the book). This is another tool for ensuring your plot is tightly focussed and doesn't have extraneous stuff lying around. It also makes you actually look at your plot.
I don;t know about you but I sometimes pretend I'm working out the plot when I'm not really, I'm just fiddling around.
I've signed in to ScriptFrenzy but need to get some pages written today - I'm currently on about 6 pages a day required to finish in time. If I write more than that each day then I'll make things easier as I approach the end.
Feeling a bit low because, though I am pleased for all the scribosphere Red Planet finalists who've been invited to Tony Jordan's masterclass - I'm not one of them. Disappointing.
Clearly: Must Try Harder.
Better stop prevaricating and get writing... (must just get the progress bar set up).
(The interview in Sheffield seemed to go okay, but I never seem to do well in the interviews up north - is it because I have a posh southern accent?)
Later that evening...
The progress bar isn't working ... perhaps Google have changed the interface.
Anyway, I've been writing like a man possessed and knocked out 5 pages in the last 90 minutes. With the pages I've already done that brings me up to 16 pages. So my average (for reasons of mathematics) has dropped from 6 pages a day down to 5.6 pages a day. But from now on I really must exceed that and write at least 6 per day.
What's on the turntable? "Amarok" by Mike Oldfield
Sunday, April 05, 2009
On the run
The 60th wedding anniversary party went off smoothly. I was required to make a speech as eldest child present. I was going to prepare but was shoved in front of 30 assorted relatives (20% of whom I had never met) before I got a chance to think about it.
So I improvised. According to the daughter people laughed in all the right places. Phew.
Families are funny things, aren't they? I always found the TV sitcom the Royle Family to be unwatchable - I thought it was really funny, but I couldn't watch it. Because it's far too close to the reality of my relations for comfort - even though it's set in Manchester not London.
Here's the thing: I'm a Londoner even though I've lived North of Watford for over 30 years. I've never lost my accent - kinda. Technically I'm a cockney. I lived in the centre of London (and I mean Westminster) for the first 5 years of my life: in two rooms in a family of 5, toilet down the hall, only cold running water (also down the hall), gas lighting - well, maybe not that bit.
Slums, but good quality slums.
Then we moved up and out. Straight to the suburbs. Detached house with 9 rooms. It would have been culture shock but I was only 5. My accent softened and when I went to university it went "posh". And still is. Unfortunately my poor northern kids have "posh" accents. Their school friends assume they must be rich. Stereotypes.
Anyway I have an enormous London family on my mother's side. It's a matriarchy, the women are strong - the men are - well - less so. They do as they're told. Of course it can go to extremes. I have a cousin (naming no names) she has four brilliant kids. No husband. Never had one and, as far as I can tell, she never wanted one. I'm not entirely sure how many fathers are involved but it's 3 or 4.
I had an uncle, rough London working-class bloke, loved opera - the real stuff.
So we had a relatively small gathering of the clan, my sister couldn't come over from Australia because she's just had an operation, my mother's brother is in the Far East on business. Only one of my father's sisters could make it, others being ill. Well, they are getting on.
I saw my wife and kids - first time in three weeks! Oh yes! Then four hours later had to say good bye again. Well, I'll be seeing them on Friday and for the next few days after that. Until I find the next contract.
The daughter is having her second audition for drama college tomorrow, in Oxford. It'll be good practice for her RADA audition in a couple of weeks.
So, I was at work again today, the website goes live tomorrow evening. Still a ton of stuff to do but my brain was seizing up by the evening. I felt a bit guilty about leaving when others were still working, but I had been there a good couple of hours before them. And work at least an hour a day longer than anyone else. Hmm, justifications not working, still feel guilty.
You might think with the pressure that I don't have time for writing - actually it's mostly the blogging that gets in the way :-)
If I get to be a professional writer I'm going to have to get a First Class season ticket to, say, York and back and write on the train. It's a lot easier. This evening, on the train, I got out my trusty notebook and decided I needed to figure out what's wrong with Running. So I did.
I'd been thinking about it and realised that, although I have a beginning and I have an idea of an end I really haven't got it straight in my head. So I chose a tool from my writer's toolbox: Writing backwards.
This is one of the excellent tools from "Writing a Great Movie" by Jeff Kitchen, and involves starting with the end and working backwards stating exactly what caused the step before - it helps you create a joined-up plot. Of course as I was doing it for the plot as a whole I only had about 8 steps in it but even then it clarified the sequence and made me think about some new ideas.
I also want to analyse it in terms of the 36 Dramatic Situations to see if there's anything interesting I can plumb into the story to generate more emotion. (I've already got lots of sacrifice - scacrificing self for an ideal, sacrificing loved ones, yummy stuff, but sacrifice is easy, what about Conflict with a God?)
I'll be getting my professional feedback notes on Unit X Wednesday or Thursday which is just fine as I'll be a bit tied up tomorrow with the website launch.
Anyway peeps, be careful out there, and keep on writing.
What's on the turntable? "China girl" by Bowie from ... "Let's Dance"? Brilliant song, drippping with irony.
So I improvised. According to the daughter people laughed in all the right places. Phew.
Families are funny things, aren't they? I always found the TV sitcom the Royle Family to be unwatchable - I thought it was really funny, but I couldn't watch it. Because it's far too close to the reality of my relations for comfort - even though it's set in Manchester not London.
Here's the thing: I'm a Londoner even though I've lived North of Watford for over 30 years. I've never lost my accent - kinda. Technically I'm a cockney. I lived in the centre of London (and I mean Westminster) for the first 5 years of my life: in two rooms in a family of 5, toilet down the hall, only cold running water (also down the hall), gas lighting - well, maybe not that bit.
Slums, but good quality slums.
Then we moved up and out. Straight to the suburbs. Detached house with 9 rooms. It would have been culture shock but I was only 5. My accent softened and when I went to university it went "posh". And still is. Unfortunately my poor northern kids have "posh" accents. Their school friends assume they must be rich. Stereotypes.
Anyway I have an enormous London family on my mother's side. It's a matriarchy, the women are strong - the men are - well - less so. They do as they're told. Of course it can go to extremes. I have a cousin (naming no names) she has four brilliant kids. No husband. Never had one and, as far as I can tell, she never wanted one. I'm not entirely sure how many fathers are involved but it's 3 or 4.
I had an uncle, rough London working-class bloke, loved opera - the real stuff.
So we had a relatively small gathering of the clan, my sister couldn't come over from Australia because she's just had an operation, my mother's brother is in the Far East on business. Only one of my father's sisters could make it, others being ill. Well, they are getting on.
I saw my wife and kids - first time in three weeks! Oh yes! Then four hours later had to say good bye again. Well, I'll be seeing them on Friday and for the next few days after that. Until I find the next contract.
The daughter is having her second audition for drama college tomorrow, in Oxford. It'll be good practice for her RADA audition in a couple of weeks.
So, I was at work again today, the website goes live tomorrow evening. Still a ton of stuff to do but my brain was seizing up by the evening. I felt a bit guilty about leaving when others were still working, but I had been there a good couple of hours before them. And work at least an hour a day longer than anyone else. Hmm, justifications not working, still feel guilty.
You might think with the pressure that I don't have time for writing - actually it's mostly the blogging that gets in the way :-)
If I get to be a professional writer I'm going to have to get a First Class season ticket to, say, York and back and write on the train. It's a lot easier. This evening, on the train, I got out my trusty notebook and decided I needed to figure out what's wrong with Running. So I did.
I'd been thinking about it and realised that, although I have a beginning and I have an idea of an end I really haven't got it straight in my head. So I chose a tool from my writer's toolbox: Writing backwards.
This is one of the excellent tools from "Writing a Great Movie" by Jeff Kitchen, and involves starting with the end and working backwards stating exactly what caused the step before - it helps you create a joined-up plot. Of course as I was doing it for the plot as a whole I only had about 8 steps in it but even then it clarified the sequence and made me think about some new ideas.
I also want to analyse it in terms of the 36 Dramatic Situations to see if there's anything interesting I can plumb into the story to generate more emotion. (I've already got lots of sacrifice - scacrificing self for an ideal, sacrificing loved ones, yummy stuff, but sacrifice is easy, what about Conflict with a God?)
I'll be getting my professional feedback notes on Unit X Wednesday or Thursday which is just fine as I'll be a bit tied up tomorrow with the website launch.
Anyway peeps, be careful out there, and keep on writing.
What's on the turntable? "China girl" by Bowie from ... "Let's Dance"? Brilliant song, drippping with irony.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Blog me a river
What a day ... turns out I will not be going home this weekend because I will be working on the day job website, launch is in less than two weeks. It's coming together and I now have two designers to make the things I'm creating look pretty. It's going to be close, but it always is.
But I won't see the boy who, after his jaunt to Norway, is now off to France for two days. (He's going to Italy in a year with the Scouts.) Nor will I get to hear him playing some of the new music I bought him for his sax (100 Sax solos and Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah). What an instrument the saxophone is, it sounds good even when he's not playing it well.
And I don't get to see the daughter who's heading for her first Drama college audition next week, Bristol Old Vic - which is the course she'd really like to get on to, they do tons of real performance throughout the course. Second choice is Oxford (not the University) because they only take about 15 students per year. Finally RADA - not that she'd object to being offered a place at RADA, but you're not even allowed to do any public performance for the first two years.
And I don't get to see the wife which is no fun at all.
Had a conversation with Philip Shelley today about my stupid idea.
For UK TV you are supposed to create something powerful that demonstrates your own unique voice. You are not expected to produce spec scripts of existing shows (unlike in the US). However the chance of you getting your own original work produced is rather small, so someone has to take a chance that you can write with correct voices for someone else's show.
This very thing was mentioned by Toby Whithouse in his Q&A - for the episodes of Being Human that he didn't write he chose two experienced writers that he knew could duplicate the character voices. And that is totally sensible and logical.
In the UK and the US no one will read a spec script for This Brilliant Show if they are the producers of This Brilliant Show because of the potential legal problems. But in the US you can write a spec for That Other Brilliant Show and send it to This Brilliant Show. Because it can be safely read and the producers can see whether you got the voices right for the other one.
But not in the UK. They don't want spec scripts from any existing show they want Your Original Voice. Which means new writers have a difficult time proving they can duplicate voices from existing shows.
So I had a stupid idea.
What if, I thought, I wrote a short script combining two sets of characters from different shows in a plot that could never happen? Something completely ridiculous that demonstrates I can write other people's characters? (Or not, as the case may be, but let's be positive.)
I asked Philip if he thought I could do that. He thought I probably could.
So, what the hell, I damn well will. It's currently called Which of the West? and is loosely based on the Wizard of Oz but combines three (yes, three!) popular UK TV shows in a 10 minute script. When I've finished it (and if I like it) I shall make it publicly available.
What's life if you can't have fun!
It also turns out that Philip would like to introduce my writing to people who don't produce SF and Fantasy TV, which means he can't send Monsters or Air. So I shall be writing the pilot for a series my wife and I have been kicking around for a couple of years - which isn't SF or Fantasy but is my other favourite genre: Detective. It will have the working title: Tec. (And that's a pun.)
Running is on hiatus (again) basically it's just not ready for the Linehan Poo. Hm, I've checked the reference but it doesn't really explain the Linehan Poo very well: Comedy writer Graham Linehan compared writing to having a poo - if it's not ready then you will have a hard time producing anything, but when it is ready ... you get the idea. It's a perfect analogy. I hate it.
What's on the turntable? "One Vision" by Queen from "A Kind of Magic", the soundtrack to the brilliant Highlander - though the TV series was better.
But I won't see the boy who, after his jaunt to Norway, is now off to France for two days. (He's going to Italy in a year with the Scouts.) Nor will I get to hear him playing some of the new music I bought him for his sax (100 Sax solos and Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah). What an instrument the saxophone is, it sounds good even when he's not playing it well.
And I don't get to see the daughter who's heading for her first Drama college audition next week, Bristol Old Vic - which is the course she'd really like to get on to, they do tons of real performance throughout the course. Second choice is Oxford (not the University) because they only take about 15 students per year. Finally RADA - not that she'd object to being offered a place at RADA, but you're not even allowed to do any public performance for the first two years.
And I don't get to see the wife which is no fun at all.
Had a conversation with Philip Shelley today about my stupid idea.
For UK TV you are supposed to create something powerful that demonstrates your own unique voice. You are not expected to produce spec scripts of existing shows (unlike in the US). However the chance of you getting your own original work produced is rather small, so someone has to take a chance that you can write with correct voices for someone else's show.
This very thing was mentioned by Toby Whithouse in his Q&A - for the episodes of Being Human that he didn't write he chose two experienced writers that he knew could duplicate the character voices. And that is totally sensible and logical.
In the UK and the US no one will read a spec script for This Brilliant Show if they are the producers of This Brilliant Show because of the potential legal problems. But in the US you can write a spec for That Other Brilliant Show and send it to This Brilliant Show. Because it can be safely read and the producers can see whether you got the voices right for the other one.
But not in the UK. They don't want spec scripts from any existing show they want Your Original Voice. Which means new writers have a difficult time proving they can duplicate voices from existing shows.
So I had a stupid idea.
What if, I thought, I wrote a short script combining two sets of characters from different shows in a plot that could never happen? Something completely ridiculous that demonstrates I can write other people's characters? (Or not, as the case may be, but let's be positive.)
I asked Philip if he thought I could do that. He thought I probably could.
So, what the hell, I damn well will. It's currently called Which of the West? and is loosely based on the Wizard of Oz but combines three (yes, three!) popular UK TV shows in a 10 minute script. When I've finished it (and if I like it) I shall make it publicly available.
What's life if you can't have fun!
It also turns out that Philip would like to introduce my writing to people who don't produce SF and Fantasy TV, which means he can't send Monsters or Air. So I shall be writing the pilot for a series my wife and I have been kicking around for a couple of years - which isn't SF or Fantasy but is my other favourite genre: Detective. It will have the working title: Tec. (And that's a pun.)
Running is on hiatus (again) basically it's just not ready for the Linehan Poo. Hm, I've checked the reference but it doesn't really explain the Linehan Poo very well: Comedy writer Graham Linehan compared writing to having a poo - if it's not ready then you will have a hard time producing anything, but when it is ready ... you get the idea. It's a perfect analogy. I hate it.
What's on the turntable? "One Vision" by Queen from "A Kind of Magic", the soundtrack to the brilliant Highlander - though the TV series was better.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Sleepy in Reading
Neighbours. The real ones, not the TV soap.
Every Thursday the person who lives in the flat below me watches TV until 00:40am. He probably doesn't think the TV is on loudly, perhaps it isn't. But it's too loud for me. I like silence when I'm trying to sleep - or, at least, not something that might make sense.
I can't hear any word clearly enough to understand, but I can here that it is conversation, and it keeps me awake. Until 00:40. Then he'll switch it off.
Why? I mean, why 00:40? What is the magical significance of that time?
Still, I'm prepared this week - the 3rd week. Last week I was so tired you'd think I'd sleep anyway, but I just don't work like that.
Curiously it's the only thing about which my wife and I significantly disagree. To her having Radio 4 playing is "background". To me it is in-yer-face "foreground". To me music is background and it helps me concentrate (except when it has to be played at full volume - and let's face it, some things do). To her, it's irritating. She hates silence. I love it.
Apart from that we' re perfectly compatible - unfortunately for our poor children. We agree so completely on pretty much everything else that if a child tries the "asking the other parent" trick, they will get the identical answer for the identical reason. In fact they don't bother any more.
So I have 50 minutes to go. I made sure I got a good night's sleep last night. Still tired, of course, but not like I was last week. I've put on a CD that takes the requisite hour to complete.
Apart from during my computer-less-ness yester-eve, this week I have mostly been writing a treatment for Monsters for submission to the Cheltenham Screenwriter's Festival Scriptmarket. I wrote most of it Monday and finished it on Tuesday. This evening I took the editing pen to it and started ripping stuff out.
I'm really not sure about it, as it seems very disjointed. I do a lot of cutting between different people and locations often in quick scenes. It works well in its fully written-out form (I think it's quite televisual, and people who know seem to agree), but it doesn't seem to translate well to prose form. I'm trying to keep the flow natural and begin new scenes with something that naturally guides the reader. But I'm not a happy bunny.
I keep looking at it objectively and feeling that it really doesn't work. Oh well.
I'm going to keep writing until it gets to midnight and then post this blog. Then I shall write at least one more blog which will come through tomorrow afternoon - and maybe another for the weekend. Hm, Blogger seems to be 3 minutes behind my clock.
Another minute gone. Read "A Minute Passed".
Not long now.
(I wonder what the folks back home are doing...)
(We're not doing anything!)
Right.
What's on the turntable? "Sirius" by Clannad from "PastPresent"
Every Thursday the person who lives in the flat below me watches TV until 00:40am. He probably doesn't think the TV is on loudly, perhaps it isn't. But it's too loud for me. I like silence when I'm trying to sleep - or, at least, not something that might make sense.
I can't hear any word clearly enough to understand, but I can here that it is conversation, and it keeps me awake. Until 00:40. Then he'll switch it off.
Why? I mean, why 00:40? What is the magical significance of that time?
Still, I'm prepared this week - the 3rd week. Last week I was so tired you'd think I'd sleep anyway, but I just don't work like that.
Curiously it's the only thing about which my wife and I significantly disagree. To her having Radio 4 playing is "background". To me it is in-yer-face "foreground". To me music is background and it helps me concentrate (except when it has to be played at full volume - and let's face it, some things do). To her, it's irritating. She hates silence. I love it.
Apart from that we' re perfectly compatible - unfortunately for our poor children. We agree so completely on pretty much everything else that if a child tries the "asking the other parent" trick, they will get the identical answer for the identical reason. In fact they don't bother any more.
So I have 50 minutes to go. I made sure I got a good night's sleep last night. Still tired, of course, but not like I was last week. I've put on a CD that takes the requisite hour to complete.
Apart from during my computer-less-ness yester-eve, this week I have mostly been writing a treatment for Monsters for submission to the Cheltenham Screenwriter's Festival Scriptmarket. I wrote most of it Monday and finished it on Tuesday. This evening I took the editing pen to it and started ripping stuff out.
I'm really not sure about it, as it seems very disjointed. I do a lot of cutting between different people and locations often in quick scenes. It works well in its fully written-out form (I think it's quite televisual, and people who know seem to agree), but it doesn't seem to translate well to prose form. I'm trying to keep the flow natural and begin new scenes with something that naturally guides the reader. But I'm not a happy bunny.
I keep looking at it objectively and feeling that it really doesn't work. Oh well.
I'm going to keep writing until it gets to midnight and then post this blog. Then I shall write at least one more blog which will come through tomorrow afternoon - and maybe another for the weekend. Hm, Blogger seems to be 3 minutes behind my clock.
Another minute gone. Read "A Minute Passed".
Not long now.
(I wonder what the folks back home are doing...)
(We're not doing anything!)
Right.
What's on the turntable? "Sirius" by Clannad from "PastPresent"
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Bleaugh
A good old-fashioned word that.
Feeling a bit "bleaugh" this evening, for various reasons: I'm not at home seeing my family this weekend (I'll be in Birmingham seeing friends - which is nice in itself, but...). My son is off on a school trip to Norway tomorrow and will be gone for a week. We still have our financial problems and will have for another month until I start getting paid for the work I'm doing now.
Daughter slipped on the ice and hit her head today on her way to college, so went back home and stayed there - but didn't call to say she'd hurt herself. Parents worry especially after it's too late to have done anything about it. She only missed English - which she is exceptionally good at anyway.
As a quick aside from bleaughness: the daughter is 17 (nearly 18). We have a big puppy and I usually take him for his last-thing-at-night walk. A couple of weeks ago we were all going to bed and the wife mentioned taking the dog for a walk and I muttered about having to take him, because the daughter certainly can't (late at night, dark). The little smarty-pants says "Why? Are you worried I might kill someone?" Which, of course, she is perfectly capable of doing in rather interesting ways. She's safer than I am. (Except I didn't slip over on the ice, even though Reading was slick with it this evening. Is that tempting fate too much?)
Anyway, I bought the wife and daughter a copy of "When Harry Met Sally" (£4 at Morrisons) before I left, so they can have a girlie evening when I'm away. I love that film. "Pecan Pie"
I should be writing but I can't see how to write the last bit of the action sequence in Unit X yet.
Sometimes I wish I could switch on the TV and watch something completely mindless. But I haven't got a TV and my Rubbish Internet is too slow to even listen to audio on iPlayer, never mind watch video.
Instead I pulled out a London street atlas that I bought on Monday to see how to get from Paddington to Oxford Street. It covers pretty much all of the Greater London area and I ended up looking at Romford and the little bit of Hornchurch that falls off the edge of the page.
Why? Because I spent my days from age 5 to 18 there. The house I lived in wasn't on the map, but I peered and squinted and spotted my secondary school half on the map. And my Junior/Infant school as plain as can be. The school all my sisters went to is there. The train station which used to have a fish and chip shop outside it, where I (on only one occasion) used my dinner money to buy fish and chips instead. I was never much of a rebel.
If you give a damn, I used to live here. (I have to use the non-interactive version because of Rubbish Internet.)
I went to art evening classes at the Polytechnic on Ardleigh Green Road, and got some good enough to sell. I played in Haynes Park, it had woods and a 9-hole golf course. I crossed the railway line on a footpath to go to piano lessons (I never got good at that). Had two friends on Staverton Road. And another friend across in Parkstone Avenue who's Dad was very well off and the house was huge. Between our road and Lewis Road there's a river that ran along a u-shaped concrete bed. During the summer we used to explore it, walking along it. In winter it often filled to the top of the concrete channel. Next door to us lived girls I fancied at different ages (Julie in one direction, Caroline in the other). Next to one of those was a family where both parents were child psychologists who had two children that were the worst behaved I ever met. After all the children had left home my parents moved to Grosvenor Road. And then away completely.
And at the railway station there was a zebra crossing where I slipped over on ice.
Gosh, memories.
So I'm feeling bleaugh - it's not that I want to go back to those years, oh dearie me no, it's just making me feel sad. I'm reinforcing the mood I was already in: Matching my "loss of family" (as it were) with "loss of places".
And I'm tired too, which doesn't help.
Pathetic really.
Plus the fact we haven't heard about Red Planet yet, and I was right, the BBC people didn't have their meeting yesterday so there's no decision on whether they want Winter (ha-ha-ha, how ironic they couldn't make a decision because of the winter weather, gosh, I'm so funny) - at least my contact was kind enough to let me know. But I'm screaming with impatience inside.
A wise man said (something like) "It's okay to feel down once in a while, just don't let it go on too long."
So I really better snap out of it.
Meanwhile, in other news, Oli discussed something very close to my heart, and I've been trying all evening to post a comment but my Rubbish Internet keeps messing it up. Grrrr.
Oh, is my time up? Well, thanks for listening. Same time tomorrow?
What's on the turntable? "Legend in my Living Room" by Annie Lennox from "Diva"
Feeling a bit "bleaugh" this evening, for various reasons: I'm not at home seeing my family this weekend (I'll be in Birmingham seeing friends - which is nice in itself, but...). My son is off on a school trip to Norway tomorrow and will be gone for a week. We still have our financial problems and will have for another month until I start getting paid for the work I'm doing now.
Daughter slipped on the ice and hit her head today on her way to college, so went back home and stayed there - but didn't call to say she'd hurt herself. Parents worry especially after it's too late to have done anything about it. She only missed English - which she is exceptionally good at anyway.
As a quick aside from bleaughness: the daughter is 17 (nearly 18). We have a big puppy and I usually take him for his last-thing-at-night walk. A couple of weeks ago we were all going to bed and the wife mentioned taking the dog for a walk and I muttered about having to take him, because the daughter certainly can't (late at night, dark). The little smarty-pants says "Why? Are you worried I might kill someone?" Which, of course, she is perfectly capable of doing in rather interesting ways. She's safer than I am. (Except I didn't slip over on the ice, even though Reading was slick with it this evening. Is that tempting fate too much?)
Anyway, I bought the wife and daughter a copy of "When Harry Met Sally" (£4 at Morrisons) before I left, so they can have a girlie evening when I'm away. I love that film. "Pecan Pie"
I should be writing but I can't see how to write the last bit of the action sequence in Unit X yet.
Sometimes I wish I could switch on the TV and watch something completely mindless. But I haven't got a TV and my Rubbish Internet is too slow to even listen to audio on iPlayer, never mind watch video.
Instead I pulled out a London street atlas that I bought on Monday to see how to get from Paddington to Oxford Street. It covers pretty much all of the Greater London area and I ended up looking at Romford and the little bit of Hornchurch that falls off the edge of the page.
Why? Because I spent my days from age 5 to 18 there. The house I lived in wasn't on the map, but I peered and squinted and spotted my secondary school half on the map. And my Junior/Infant school as plain as can be. The school all my sisters went to is there. The train station which used to have a fish and chip shop outside it, where I (on only one occasion) used my dinner money to buy fish and chips instead. I was never much of a rebel.
If you give a damn, I used to live here. (I have to use the non-interactive version because of Rubbish Internet.)
I went to art evening classes at the Polytechnic on Ardleigh Green Road, and got some good enough to sell. I played in Haynes Park, it had woods and a 9-hole golf course. I crossed the railway line on a footpath to go to piano lessons (I never got good at that). Had two friends on Staverton Road. And another friend across in Parkstone Avenue who's Dad was very well off and the house was huge. Between our road and Lewis Road there's a river that ran along a u-shaped concrete bed. During the summer we used to explore it, walking along it. In winter it often filled to the top of the concrete channel. Next door to us lived girls I fancied at different ages (Julie in one direction, Caroline in the other). Next to one of those was a family where both parents were child psychologists who had two children that were the worst behaved I ever met. After all the children had left home my parents moved to Grosvenor Road. And then away completely.
And at the railway station there was a zebra crossing where I slipped over on ice.
Gosh, memories.
So I'm feeling bleaugh - it's not that I want to go back to those years, oh dearie me no, it's just making me feel sad. I'm reinforcing the mood I was already in: Matching my "loss of family" (as it were) with "loss of places".
And I'm tired too, which doesn't help.
Pathetic really.
Plus the fact we haven't heard about Red Planet yet, and I was right, the BBC people didn't have their meeting yesterday so there's no decision on whether they want Winter (ha-ha-ha, how ironic they couldn't make a decision because of the winter weather, gosh, I'm so funny) - at least my contact was kind enough to let me know. But I'm screaming with impatience inside.
A wise man said (something like) "It's okay to feel down once in a while, just don't let it go on too long."
So I really better snap out of it.
Meanwhile, in other news, Oli discussed something very close to my heart, and I've been trying all evening to post a comment but my Rubbish Internet keeps messing it up. Grrrr.
Oh, is my time up? Well, thanks for listening. Same time tomorrow?
What's on the turntable? "Legend in my Living Room" by Annie Lennox from "Diva"
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