I have been remiss. It was almost two weeks ago that Michelle tagged me for a meme, for "that moment where you decided that this was something you could/should/would do".
I did write a lot about this back here - nearly two years ago. Gosh. (You could also click the inspirations tag to see everything related.)
In those blogs back then I traced my writing career from rubbish SF novels through poetry but didn't quite get to the screenwriting. So here it is, with contributory factors included to add impressive wordage.
When Blake's 7 had it's final episode I wrote a synopsis of a follow-up story that would "wrap it all up", which was the closest I got to writing a script but I didn't really conceive the actual "writing of a script" in that, it was just "writing a proper ending" to me.
It was 1992 (I think) that I started my epic fantasy novel. On and off it took me ten years to finish, I was not slaving over it day in day out. I didn't suffer at all. But that year also saw the birth of The Daughter. At some point in that time she decided that she wanted to be an actress, I think it had something to do with Buffy and the fact she began Jujitsu at age 5 - she wanted to be an action star (and still does).
But somewhere around 2004 (I think) I was feeling pressure to write something - something we could actually shoot, a short Buffy-esque story to suit her talents. I believe I wrote it on a Word processor and studied websites to get the right format.
So I wrote it. We shot, edited and packaged it with the assistance of family (brother-in-law did most of it). It is never seeing the light of day.
And that was the beginning of the beginning, but not the end of the beginning.
That was also the time that Buffy ceased it's UK broadcast, it was over. And I thought to myself, you know, what if I created Buffy for the UK? Which is where Monsters began, initially just a series bible, the basic concepts, I thought that would be enough - like my Blake's 7 synopsis. And I left it at that, wrote no script for a couple of years.
Until one day I realised that it should be written. It was a part the Daughter could play so I researched screenwriting in detail, found Celtx and began in earnest.
If you want to read the first 10 pages of Monsters as it is now, you can here (click "My work and credits"). And the Daughter did get to play the part, at least in the scenes we shot, which you can watch here.
For me becoming a screenwriter was a process that took 30 years, from rubbish novels through successful poetry, magazine writing and editing, and better novel writing.
Now comes the hard part, who to tag for the meme: Piers, Jason, and Phil.
What's on the turntable? Not a sausage.
Showing posts with label inspirations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label inspirations. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Monday, July 06, 2009
Inspirational
Torchwood: Children of Earth - why I want to write for TV?
To do something like that.
'Nuff said.
What's on the turntable? "Blue" by Joni Mitchell from "Blue"
To do something like that.
'Nuff said.
What's on the turntable? "Blue" by Joni Mitchell from "Blue"
Monday, April 06, 2009
Inspiration
Rachael has thrown a meme into the aether, to see where it sticks. And as we all know I just love the sound of my own typing. (Of course, right now, I'm at work preparing for the big launch this evening - I wrote this last night.)
When you get to be successful it is an absolute certainty that you will be asked: "Where do you get your ideas from?" Or, as this not-really-a-meme is worded: "Where do you get your inspiration?"
Me. Other people. Anything.
Monsters evolved from a desire to create something Buffy-like that didn't involve the supernatural or superpowers. But the original inspiration was Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Air was originally seen as a new take on the 1970s TV series Sky which it is, but completely different.
Unit X came from me mis-hearing what two of my friends were saying.
Running started from "I have to write something with Parkour in it" for this producer.
I wrote a radio play based on a Eurythmics song: Would I Lie to You. I had this idea to write a whole series of them.
Une Nuit a Paris was inspired by a 10cc album.
Winter was (originally) inspired by the need to produce an action short.
Strings was pure me "I have to write a new story concept RIGHT NOW".
My novel Elona originally came from a live fantasy role-playing game.
The poetry I've written was either personal emotion, someone else's emotion, commentary on what I saw around me, or seeing something and zooming off on a flight of fantasy.
There was a time I was writing 3 poems a day based on current affairs, I was trying to get a newspaper to pay me to print them. I did it for three weeks. That's a lot of poems. It didn't work.
I don't get ideas from dreams or "my subconscious" or the news (except as mentioned above) - I do get inspiration from me, songs, other TV, the world. But it's all me in the end. (If that's not too philosophical.)
What's on the turntable? "Here is the news" by ELO from "News of the World" (I think)
When you get to be successful it is an absolute certainty that you will be asked: "Where do you get your ideas from?" Or, as this not-really-a-meme is worded: "Where do you get your inspiration?"
Me. Other people. Anything.
Monsters evolved from a desire to create something Buffy-like that didn't involve the supernatural or superpowers. But the original inspiration was Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Air was originally seen as a new take on the 1970s TV series Sky which it is, but completely different.
Unit X came from me mis-hearing what two of my friends were saying.
Running started from "I have to write something with Parkour in it" for this producer.
I wrote a radio play based on a Eurythmics song: Would I Lie to You. I had this idea to write a whole series of them.
Une Nuit a Paris was inspired by a 10cc album.
Winter was (originally) inspired by the need to produce an action short.
Strings was pure me "I have to write a new story concept RIGHT NOW".
My novel Elona originally came from a live fantasy role-playing game.
The poetry I've written was either personal emotion, someone else's emotion, commentary on what I saw around me, or seeing something and zooming off on a flight of fantasy.
There was a time I was writing 3 poems a day based on current affairs, I was trying to get a newspaper to pay me to print them. I did it for three weeks. That's a lot of poems. It didn't work.
I don't get ideas from dreams or "my subconscious" or the news (except as mentioned above) - I do get inspiration from me, songs, other TV, the world. But it's all me in the end. (If that's not too philosophical.)
What's on the turntable? "Here is the news" by ELO from "News of the World" (I think)
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Inspirations #4: Perspiration
Is this a cheat? Can I use "perspiration" as an inspiration?
It's my blog, so I will.
I studied Computer Science at Manchester University, I loved every second of it. Computers were and always have been "my thing". I fell in love and out again a couple of times (with girls, not computers). Had my own band performing stuff I and the keyboardist wrote, and also gigged performing my own poetry in the Student Union (okay, I did it once ... to a very small audience ... of friends ... but I've done it more recently to bigger audiences, not at MUSU).
After Uni I refused to join the merry throngs of Comp Sci graduates heading into businesses to rewrite accounting software. In fact I ended, for a long time, without a job in a market that was desperate for people like me.
But in the end I found what I was looking for, I worked for the Open University on a project involving computers and the blind. We did some ground-breaking stuff. These were the days of the Sinclair Spectrum and the BBC Micro, I worked on the latter mainly. And I wrote a space adventure game for which a magazine company paid me £100, all rights, and put on a compilation of simple games. (I was young and innocent and £100 seemed like a lot of money.)
My OU project came to an end. But almost instantly I had a call from the company that bought my game asking if I wanted to join their magazine editorial team. An odd way to recruit, but it suited me.
So I became an editorial assistant. Within five years I was editor. And I stayed that way for another 10 years at least, I lose track to be honest.
But here's the perspiration: I wrote my first article for that magazine, and had it ripped (metaphorically) to shreds by the editor-in-chief - it came back covered in red. So I tried again, and again, and eventually it was considered passable and printed.
I edited other people's work, I wrote articles, more importantly for however many years it was I wrote articles to deadline. When I became editor I instigated the "editor's comment", every 4 weeks (and I don't mean month, we had 13 issues per year) I sat with a blank screen in front of me and conjured 500 words out of nothing.
Whether it was 500 or 5000 words, writing became merely a function, like eating. I did it when I had to.
There have been bloggers recently commenting on whether writing is "just a job" or a "must do or I'd die" activity. For me it is neither. I can take writing or leave it. True, I have stories to tell and I want people to experience them in one form or another. But it's neither a job nor a compulsion: It is something I can do, if I want to.
So is it an inspiration? I have no idea, but 20 years of magazine journalism (I did more than just computers in the end) was sufficient perspiration to mean that a blank page holds no terror and, unfortunately, makes me unsympathetic to people who complain of writers' block, a luxury I've never been permitted. (Sorry. But not much.)
Other inspirations
What's on the turntable? Nowt.
It's my blog, so I will.
I studied Computer Science at Manchester University, I loved every second of it. Computers were and always have been "my thing". I fell in love and out again a couple of times (with girls, not computers). Had my own band performing stuff I and the keyboardist wrote, and also gigged performing my own poetry in the Student Union (okay, I did it once ... to a very small audience ... of friends ... but I've done it more recently to bigger audiences, not at MUSU).
After Uni I refused to join the merry throngs of Comp Sci graduates heading into businesses to rewrite accounting software. In fact I ended, for a long time, without a job in a market that was desperate for people like me.
But in the end I found what I was looking for, I worked for the Open University on a project involving computers and the blind. We did some ground-breaking stuff. These were the days of the Sinclair Spectrum and the BBC Micro, I worked on the latter mainly. And I wrote a space adventure game for which a magazine company paid me £100, all rights, and put on a compilation of simple games. (I was young and innocent and £100 seemed like a lot of money.)
My OU project came to an end. But almost instantly I had a call from the company that bought my game asking if I wanted to join their magazine editorial team. An odd way to recruit, but it suited me.
So I became an editorial assistant. Within five years I was editor. And I stayed that way for another 10 years at least, I lose track to be honest.
But here's the perspiration: I wrote my first article for that magazine, and had it ripped (metaphorically) to shreds by the editor-in-chief - it came back covered in red. So I tried again, and again, and eventually it was considered passable and printed.
I edited other people's work, I wrote articles, more importantly for however many years it was I wrote articles to deadline. When I became editor I instigated the "editor's comment", every 4 weeks (and I don't mean month, we had 13 issues per year) I sat with a blank screen in front of me and conjured 500 words out of nothing.
Whether it was 500 or 5000 words, writing became merely a function, like eating. I did it when I had to.
There have been bloggers recently commenting on whether writing is "just a job" or a "must do or I'd die" activity. For me it is neither. I can take writing or leave it. True, I have stories to tell and I want people to experience them in one form or another. But it's neither a job nor a compulsion: It is something I can do, if I want to.
So is it an inspiration? I have no idea, but 20 years of magazine journalism (I did more than just computers in the end) was sufficient perspiration to mean that a blank page holds no terror and, unfortunately, makes me unsympathetic to people who complain of writers' block, a luxury I've never been permitted. (Sorry. But not much.)
Other inspirations
- The Art of Words
- "It's a tragedy!"
- Haiku
- Inspirational addendum
- Perspiration (this one)
What's on the turntable? Nowt.
Inspirational addendum
In reference to my first Inspiration about Cider with Rosie by Laurie Lee, it seems I can nail it down to a specific school term.
As mentioned in an earlier blog I reached the exciting age of 50 a couple of weeks ago. I say "exciting" though frankly I can't say I've noticed any specific changes. Still no evidence of age being treated with deference. Hum ho.
My parents, currently heading into their 80s, decided to send me a rather special present, my Grammar school reports. Eeek.
Quite fascinating and amusing especially from the highly non-PC teacher's comments particularly in English: Form 3Q (equivalent of today's Year 9) Grade C: "His oral contribution is quite good but bhis written work is sometimes rather feeble." and later that year Grade D: "He has plenty of ability but sometimes lethargy gets the better of him."
We were even rated as "position in class" the remark above gave me a 23rd out of 27.
But less than 4 months later: Grade B, position 5, "He has worked hard this term and deserves his exam success." So there you have it, my guess is I encountered "Cider with Rosie" somewhere in those 4 months.
Other inspirations:
What's on the turntable? "Chewing a bone" by Toby the dog from "Noises I can make"
As mentioned in an earlier blog I reached the exciting age of 50 a couple of weeks ago. I say "exciting" though frankly I can't say I've noticed any specific changes. Still no evidence of age being treated with deference. Hum ho.
My parents, currently heading into their 80s, decided to send me a rather special present, my Grammar school reports. Eeek.
Quite fascinating and amusing especially from the highly non-PC teacher's comments particularly in English: Form 3Q (equivalent of today's Year 9) Grade C: "His oral contribution is quite good but bhis written work is sometimes rather feeble." and later that year Grade D: "He has plenty of ability but sometimes lethargy gets the better of him."
We were even rated as "position in class" the remark above gave me a 23rd out of 27.
But less than 4 months later: Grade B, position 5, "He has worked hard this term and deserves his exam success." So there you have it, my guess is I encountered "Cider with Rosie" somewhere in those 4 months.
Other inspirations:
- The Art of Words
- "It's a tragedy"
- Haiku
- Art of Words addendum (this one)
- Perspiration
What's on the turntable? "Chewing a bone" by Toby the dog from "Noises I can make"
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Inspirations #3: Haiku
In the 6th Form of my school I chose to study lots of Maths and some Physics too. Why? I was good at them. I really had no idea what I would do with them, though I had known for 6 years that I liked programming computers, and that's what I wanted to do.
During my mock 'O' Level exams I had written my first novel, excitingly called Genesis. It was a strange synthesis of all the SF/F I had been absorbing for ten years, but mostly combined the Lord of the Rings with E.E. 'Doc' Smith's Lensman series with some "Space:1999" thrown in for good measure.
It was really really bad. I wish I still had a copy of it.
Useful tip: Always keep a copy of everything when you're a creative because sometimes it's important to see how far you've come. This tip was first given to me as a guitar player, when I felt I wasn't really progressing, the book I was following suddenly (very timely-ly) suggested turning the guitar over and trying to play left-handed. That was what I was like when I started.
Proof I had progressed.
The same goes for writing. Somewhere I do have my second novel which I wrote fairly soon afterwards. But already I had progressed, the first was utterly derivative. The second opened with a scene that I developed from my own experience of living in London "high-quality" slums. For the first five years of my life I lived in a two-room flat with the rest of my family (4 others) with no toilet, gas lighting and cold-running water down the hall. Barely half a mile from the Houses of Parliament in London.
This second book was still SF but it was purer, grounded in reality and the characters were real with emotions. It was still rubbish. I still had more nonsense to get out of my system.
But I digress.
Our headmaster in his wisdom decided that all the arty types should have one lesson of science per week and the science/maths lot should have one lesson of English, which actually was a good idea. But I think I was the only person who thought so at the time.
Our teacher for this lesson, bearing in mind this was an all-boys school which had never had a female teacher (I think), was a strikingly attractive young woman, probably only a couple of years older than us. For some reason I always thought of her with the name Shadowfax. (Particularly silly since Shadowfax was a stallion.) It's also possible she wasn't that beautiful, but we were adolescent males.
So she had us study poetry and then hit us with haiku, and our homework was to write a haiku.
I wrote 18 of them. I just couldn't stop. A structured poetry form that encapsulated a visual and emotional image, and they just poured out of me. As if a dam had broken.
I discovered I could write. Something 150,000 words in rubbish novels had not taught me.
So for the next few years poetry became my medium. It wasn't long after this that I went to a big art event and sold poems that I made up on the spot with the subject supplied by the customer. The process is simple: (a) Get the person to describe the subject of the poem from their viewpoint; (b) write the poem expressing the emotions given to you.
And payment? I said "Pay me what you think it's worth." I was very well rewarded.
But even more rewarding was when, 20 years later, a young man came up to me and asked me my name, he pulled out his wallet and extracted a crumpled piece of paper. The poem his father had asked me to write for him when he was a baby. (Time to hand out the Kleenex.)
Must admit I'm almost choking up over it even now. That's real life.
Other inspirations:
What's on the turntable? "Carey" by Joni Mitchell from "Blue"
During my mock 'O' Level exams I had written my first novel, excitingly called Genesis. It was a strange synthesis of all the SF/F I had been absorbing for ten years, but mostly combined the Lord of the Rings with E.E. 'Doc' Smith's Lensman series with some "Space:1999" thrown in for good measure.
It was really really bad. I wish I still had a copy of it.
Useful tip: Always keep a copy of everything when you're a creative because sometimes it's important to see how far you've come. This tip was first given to me as a guitar player, when I felt I wasn't really progressing, the book I was following suddenly (very timely-ly) suggested turning the guitar over and trying to play left-handed. That was what I was like when I started.
Proof I had progressed.
The same goes for writing. Somewhere I do have my second novel which I wrote fairly soon afterwards. But already I had progressed, the first was utterly derivative. The second opened with a scene that I developed from my own experience of living in London "high-quality" slums. For the first five years of my life I lived in a two-room flat with the rest of my family (4 others) with no toilet, gas lighting and cold-running water down the hall. Barely half a mile from the Houses of Parliament in London.
This second book was still SF but it was purer, grounded in reality and the characters were real with emotions. It was still rubbish. I still had more nonsense to get out of my system.
But I digress.
Our headmaster in his wisdom decided that all the arty types should have one lesson of science per week and the science/maths lot should have one lesson of English, which actually was a good idea. But I think I was the only person who thought so at the time.
Our teacher for this lesson, bearing in mind this was an all-boys school which had never had a female teacher (I think), was a strikingly attractive young woman, probably only a couple of years older than us. For some reason I always thought of her with the name Shadowfax. (Particularly silly since Shadowfax was a stallion.) It's also possible she wasn't that beautiful, but we were adolescent males.
So she had us study poetry and then hit us with haiku, and our homework was to write a haiku.
I wrote 18 of them. I just couldn't stop. A structured poetry form that encapsulated a visual and emotional image, and they just poured out of me. As if a dam had broken.
I discovered I could write. Something 150,000 words in rubbish novels had not taught me.
So for the next few years poetry became my medium. It wasn't long after this that I went to a big art event and sold poems that I made up on the spot with the subject supplied by the customer. The process is simple: (a) Get the person to describe the subject of the poem from their viewpoint; (b) write the poem expressing the emotions given to you.
And payment? I said "Pay me what you think it's worth." I was very well rewarded.
But even more rewarding was when, 20 years later, a young man came up to me and asked me my name, he pulled out his wallet and extracted a crumpled piece of paper. The poem his father had asked me to write for him when he was a baby. (Time to hand out the Kleenex.)
Must admit I'm almost choking up over it even now. That's real life.
Other inspirations:
What's on the turntable? "Carey" by Joni Mitchell from "Blue"
Monday, September 29, 2008
Inspirations #2: "It's a tragedy!"
No, the Bee Gees are not one of my inspirations. Not that I have any animosity towards them.
WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS ABOUT THE BOOK "ANDRA" by LOUISE LAWRENCE.
As was previously mention (Inspirations #1) I was the Great Devourer of SF/F fiction - and fact, as it happens, my parents still own a copy of the Tomorrow's World annual from 1968, with its flying cars and two-mile high skyscrapers.
Now all those SF/F books tended to be in the heroic vein, a huge variety of heroes it's true, but in the end the protagonist would always win. Which is nice, of course, and very encouraging to a somewhat introverted young lad, a bit of a misfit older than his years.
My school had a decent library and it contained SF books, among all the rest. And there was one book called "Andra" by Louise Lawrence, which I duly checked out and began to devour.
Teenage female protagonist, no problem; dystopian future Earth, lovely; protagonist fails
... and dies. O! M! G!
Yup, a fatal tragedy, and aimed at teenagers too.
I have a copy of this book to this day. I love it. It taught me the power of tragedy. (And how to write a convincing dystopian society.)
(By the way, the first book to make me blub out loud was not Andra, that was just a shock, by "Mr God, This is Anna" by Fynn. A book with phenomenal imagery and a compelling tale. And it wasn't the end that made me cry, but the middle. OK, the end did as well, but not as much. It's a book I've had to keep buying because I give it away and it just gets passed on out of reach.)
Other inspirations
What's on the turntable? "Coyote" by Joni Mitchell from "Hejira"
WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS ABOUT THE BOOK "ANDRA" by LOUISE LAWRENCE.
As was previously mention (Inspirations #1) I was the Great Devourer of SF/F fiction - and fact, as it happens, my parents still own a copy of the Tomorrow's World annual from 1968, with its flying cars and two-mile high skyscrapers.
Now all those SF/F books tended to be in the heroic vein, a huge variety of heroes it's true, but in the end the protagonist would always win. Which is nice, of course, and very encouraging to a somewhat introverted young lad, a bit of a misfit older than his years.
My school had a decent library and it contained SF books, among all the rest. And there was one book called "Andra" by Louise Lawrence, which I duly checked out and began to devour.
Teenage female protagonist, no problem; dystopian future Earth, lovely; protagonist fails
... and dies. O! M! G!
Yup, a fatal tragedy, and aimed at teenagers too.
I have a copy of this book to this day. I love it. It taught me the power of tragedy. (And how to write a convincing dystopian society.)
(By the way, the first book to make me blub out loud was not Andra, that was just a shock, by "Mr God, This is Anna" by Fynn. A book with phenomenal imagery and a compelling tale. And it wasn't the end that made me cry, but the middle. OK, the end did as well, but not as much. It's a book I've had to keep buying because I give it away and it just gets passed on out of reach.)
Other inspirations
- Art of Words
- It's a tragedy (this one)
- Haiku
- Art of Words addendum
- Perspiration
What's on the turntable? "Coyote" by Joni Mitchell from "Hejira"
Friday, September 26, 2008
Inspirations #1: The Art of Words
So Stuart's non-specific meme about inspirations...
When I were a lad, knee-high to a grasshopper, my dear old Dad used to read to me each evening before I went to sleep. I'm not entirely sure but I think he only ever read me "The Lord of the Rings", but that took long enough.
He also possessed copies of the Astounding Science Fiction magazine, from the early 1950s, and he had Asimovs, Heinleins and Clarkes. Pulp paperbacks in profusion.
I gobbled them all up, then I discovered that the publisher Gollancz put their Science Fiction imprint on yellow covers which made them easy to spot in the library, I ate my way through their entire collection. I discovered Andre Norton, and her psionics stories.
There was no stopping me. Any SF and Fantasy, I would just read it all, and I read fast. I lived in this alternate universe and, to some extent, shunned a world that was grey and lacking in any adventure. (Although I did have a few adventures.)
At school one day I sat down in the Maths class next to a window and there was a book on the sill next to me: "Cider with Rosie" by Laurie Lee. I knew the TV adaptation had had naughty bits in it so, hopeful of something naughty in print, I opened it and began to read.
Reader, it changed my life.
It wasn't what he wrote about, it was the words. The poetry of prose. The magic of individual meaning. I won't claim that it drove me to be a writer; it was a couple of years before I started to write poetry and my first novel. But he caught me from the first sentence, almost the first word. And it was autobiography, no action, no heroes, just life.
It was "Cider with Rosie" that taught me how beautiful words can be, and since that time I've have striven to make my imagery as beautiful as his; though I know I fall far short of that ideal.
Other inspirations:
What's on the turntable? "Tales of the Future" by Vangelis from "Bladerunner soundtrack"
When I were a lad, knee-high to a grasshopper, my dear old Dad used to read to me each evening before I went to sleep. I'm not entirely sure but I think he only ever read me "The Lord of the Rings", but that took long enough.
He also possessed copies of the Astounding Science Fiction magazine, from the early 1950s, and he had Asimovs, Heinleins and Clarkes. Pulp paperbacks in profusion.
I gobbled them all up, then I discovered that the publisher Gollancz put their Science Fiction imprint on yellow covers which made them easy to spot in the library, I ate my way through their entire collection. I discovered Andre Norton, and her psionics stories.
There was no stopping me. Any SF and Fantasy, I would just read it all, and I read fast. I lived in this alternate universe and, to some extent, shunned a world that was grey and lacking in any adventure. (Although I did have a few adventures.)
At school one day I sat down in the Maths class next to a window and there was a book on the sill next to me: "Cider with Rosie" by Laurie Lee. I knew the TV adaptation had had naughty bits in it so, hopeful of something naughty in print, I opened it and began to read.
Reader, it changed my life.
It wasn't what he wrote about, it was the words. The poetry of prose. The magic of individual meaning. I won't claim that it drove me to be a writer; it was a couple of years before I started to write poetry and my first novel. But he caught me from the first sentence, almost the first word. And it was autobiography, no action, no heroes, just life.
It was "Cider with Rosie" that taught me how beautiful words can be, and since that time I've have striven to make my imagery as beautiful as his; though I know I fall far short of that ideal.
Other inspirations:
- Art of Words (This one)
- It's a tragedy
- Haiku
- Art of Words addendum
- Perspiration
What's on the turntable? "Tales of the Future" by Vangelis from "Bladerunner soundtrack"
I shouldn't be here...
... but I am.
It's Friday evening and I should be in my real home with my wife, kids and pets. But I'm not. I'm still in Reading because my job demands it. The website navigation that my team works on must be complete and running at a usable speed by Monday 9:00am (and miscellaneous other bugs fixed).
If it's not then 5 months work (mostly mine) gets thrown out the window.
Interesting to be in on this actually as I've never really been in this sort of situation before: I've run businesses, been part of businesses, but nothing bigger than, say, 50 people. And the ones I ran never exceeded 10 employees, usually just 3.
More to the point of writing: Stuart Perry has been blogging about 5 inspirations to who he is as a writer. It wasn't a meme but he suggested that other bloggers might like to take up the baton. As I'm still waiting for feedback on "Une Nuit a Paris" I shall take up this challenge. Starting in the next blog which I will write directly.
What's on the turntable? "One More Kiss, Dear" by Vangelis from "Bladerunner soundtrack"
It's Friday evening and I should be in my real home with my wife, kids and pets. But I'm not. I'm still in Reading because my job demands it. The website navigation that my team works on must be complete and running at a usable speed by Monday 9:00am (and miscellaneous other bugs fixed).
If it's not then 5 months work (mostly mine) gets thrown out the window.
Interesting to be in on this actually as I've never really been in this sort of situation before: I've run businesses, been part of businesses, but nothing bigger than, say, 50 people. And the ones I ran never exceeded 10 employees, usually just 3.
More to the point of writing: Stuart Perry has been blogging about 5 inspirations to who he is as a writer. It wasn't a meme but he suggested that other bloggers might like to take up the baton. As I'm still waiting for feedback on "Une Nuit a Paris" I shall take up this challenge. Starting in the next blog which I will write directly.
What's on the turntable? "One More Kiss, Dear" by Vangelis from "Bladerunner soundtrack"
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