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 meme. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meme. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
A Strange Hinterland
I'm at home, yesterday I was in London.
It's all the fault of the Government - well, isn't everything?[1]
I won't bore you with the insanity of Michael Gove (this is not a political comment, it's a technical fact, he's what we call in the business "a nutter"), but from the start of the election all Government departments go into purdah. I shall avoid obvious jokes[2]. Essentially no further promotion can occur of almost any sort because it could be deemed an attempt to influence voting by the incumbent party. This applies to websites. I build websites. I was building government websites when the purdah thing happened.
Sounds of twiddling thumbs.
I was still getting paid - still am getting paid - but not doing much. So now I'm at home, effectively on retainer. But the contract was finishing soon anyway and I've been applying for other jobs.
So I was in London yesterday attending two interviews, one with a big digital agency and one with one of the Hollywood big five (oh yes). Plus I have a telephone interview today with another company, although I was offered one of the London jobs - almost before I got out of the building.
It's nice to be wanted. It will be a challenge, as I'm moving up in the world from simple programmer, to project architect which means that if it doesn't work, it's my fault.
So, if I'm away from home, my blogging rate may go up again, and I should get a lot more writing done. But it's been nice living at home with my family for the past year, rather than just seeing them weekends. But it's really interfered with my writing. Oh well.
On the writing front I'm a bit buggered with my Red Planet entry; it being a detective series which really isn't panning out right. I've had some feedback on the first 10 pages including from the inestimable Jez - the main problem being I can't quite get my ideas to fit the genre.
The genre can't be wrong (it's just a genre) - it's me. So either the idea is fundamentally flawed and can never work, or I'm a genius and nobody recognises it. Or perhaps I haven't done enough research.
Time will tell.
At the weekend, on Sunday, we spent a few hours at the Dr Who Pub Convention Vworp! (at the Lass o'Gowrie in Manchester) and I think it was the interview with Rob Shearman where he was talking about "editing as you watch". At which point the Teacher nudged the Daughter (the whole family attended) and said "That was your father last night - watching "V for Vendetta". I'm in tears and he's saying 'I'd've taken an axe to the dialogue'."
True story.
In other news...
The Daughter has an audition for a roller-skating pantomime but she can't roller-skate (apparently it's not a pre-requisite); the Boy is getting the hang of riding a bike which is important because he's going to be spending a day riding when he's in France in a couple of weeks.
Oh and for those who care, in the blog entry where I printed the advice I'd given someone about writing, I also printed his response to my advice in the comments because I was dead chuffed (for my non-UK readers that is the same as "chuffed as a buttie", i.e. "happy as a sandwich" but in this case is "as happy as a zombie").
Meme
I have been instructed, by powers so much more powerful than I, that my List of Films I'd Watch Again ... and Again should be a meme. Soooo...
Rules:
1. Provide a non-exhaustive list of films you'll happily watch again and again;
2. There is no rule 2.[3]
3. Reprint the rules.
4. Tag three other peeps.
And I hereby tag Sir Jon of Peacey, Duke Rob of Stickles and the utterly translucent Piers of Beckley.
That'll learn ya.
[1] No, not really.
[2] In fact I wrote an obvious joke ... but it wasn't funny so I deleted it.
[3] That is a lie.
What's on the turntable? Nuffink, I'm saving bandwidth.
It's all the fault of the Government - well, isn't everything?[1]
I won't bore you with the insanity of Michael Gove (this is not a political comment, it's a technical fact, he's what we call in the business "a nutter"), but from the start of the election all Government departments go into purdah. I shall avoid obvious jokes[2]. Essentially no further promotion can occur of almost any sort because it could be deemed an attempt to influence voting by the incumbent party. This applies to websites. I build websites. I was building government websites when the purdah thing happened.
Sounds of twiddling thumbs.
I was still getting paid - still am getting paid - but not doing much. So now I'm at home, effectively on retainer. But the contract was finishing soon anyway and I've been applying for other jobs.
So I was in London yesterday attending two interviews, one with a big digital agency and one with one of the Hollywood big five (oh yes). Plus I have a telephone interview today with another company, although I was offered one of the London jobs - almost before I got out of the building.
It's nice to be wanted. It will be a challenge, as I'm moving up in the world from simple programmer, to project architect which means that if it doesn't work, it's my fault.
So, if I'm away from home, my blogging rate may go up again, and I should get a lot more writing done. But it's been nice living at home with my family for the past year, rather than just seeing them weekends. But it's really interfered with my writing. Oh well.
On the writing front I'm a bit buggered with my Red Planet entry; it being a detective series which really isn't panning out right. I've had some feedback on the first 10 pages including from the inestimable Jez - the main problem being I can't quite get my ideas to fit the genre.
The genre can't be wrong (it's just a genre) - it's me. So either the idea is fundamentally flawed and can never work, or I'm a genius and nobody recognises it. Or perhaps I haven't done enough research.
Time will tell.
At the weekend, on Sunday, we spent a few hours at the Dr Who Pub Convention Vworp! (at the Lass o'Gowrie in Manchester) and I think it was the interview with Rob Shearman where he was talking about "editing as you watch". At which point the Teacher nudged the Daughter (the whole family attended) and said "That was your father last night - watching "V for Vendetta". I'm in tears and he's saying 'I'd've taken an axe to the dialogue'."
True story.
In other news...
The Daughter has an audition for a roller-skating pantomime but she can't roller-skate (apparently it's not a pre-requisite); the Boy is getting the hang of riding a bike which is important because he's going to be spending a day riding when he's in France in a couple of weeks.
Oh and for those who care, in the blog entry where I printed the advice I'd given someone about writing, I also printed his response to my advice in the comments because I was dead chuffed (for my non-UK readers that is the same as "chuffed as a buttie", i.e. "happy as a sandwich" but in this case is "as happy as a zombie").
Meme
I have been instructed, by powers so much more powerful than I, that my List of Films I'd Watch Again ... and Again should be a meme. Soooo...
Rules:
1. Provide a non-exhaustive list of films you'll happily watch again and again;
2. There is no rule 2.[3]
3. Reprint the rules.
4. Tag three other peeps.
And I hereby tag Sir Jon of Peacey, Duke Rob of Stickles and the utterly translucent Piers of Beckley.
That'll learn ya.
[1] No, not really.
[2] In fact I wrote an obvious joke ... but it wasn't funny so I deleted it.
[3] That is a lie.
What's on the turntable? Nuffink, I'm saving bandwidth.
Friday, June 04, 2010
The Kid in the Front Row...
...asked these questions and since I love talking about myself I decided to answer in my blog and if you;re a screenwriter with a blog, you can do it too (you can find the Kid here).
1. What project are you currently working on or thinking of working on?
A steampunk web series called Winter.
2. Why is it important to you and why is it needed in the world? (Feel free to ramble at length)
Because it says something about people, their rights and abuse of those rights.
It's also about love - and corrupted love.
And it's about the suppression of women.
And war and terrorism.
And crazy steampunk machines.
And explosions.
And action stuff.
Set in 1913, in Manchester (the capital city of the British Empire).
I think these things need talking about.
3. What obstacles are you facing or anticipating facing?
Um - well, as it's going to be completely greenscreen CGI sets (like Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, and Sin City) the main problem is going to be getting the money to pay for things that have to be paid for, and getting the graphics created.
Oh.
The two main problems will be getting the money, getting the graphics and shooting it.
The three main problems...
4. When will this project be completed? (Must set a date!)
Yes, we really must. You're asking me? I'm just a writer, dammit! Ask the Producer.
Realistically we're looking at a year I'd say.
What's on the turntable? "From Gagarin's Point of View" by the Esbjörn Svensson Trio. Yum.
1. What project are you currently working on or thinking of working on?
A steampunk web series called Winter.
2. Why is it important to you and why is it needed in the world? (Feel free to ramble at length)
Because it says something about people, their rights and abuse of those rights.
It's also about love - and corrupted love.
And it's about the suppression of women.
And war and terrorism.
And crazy steampunk machines.
And explosions.
And action stuff.
Set in 1913, in Manchester (the capital city of the British Empire).
I think these things need talking about.
3. What obstacles are you facing or anticipating facing?
Um - well, as it's going to be completely greenscreen CGI sets (like Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, and Sin City) the main problem is going to be getting the money to pay for things that have to be paid for, and getting the graphics created.
Oh.
The two main problems will be getting the money, getting the graphics and shooting it.
The three main problems...
4. When will this project be completed? (Must set a date!)
Yes, we really must. You're asking me? I'm just a writer, dammit! Ask the Producer.
Realistically we're looking at a year I'd say.
What's on the turntable? "From Gagarin's Point of View" by the Esbjörn Svensson Trio. Yum.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Movie meme
Seen on various blogs, stolen from the delicious David Turner.
1.Name a movie that you have seen more than 10 times.
Ghostbusters, The Princess Bride, Shrek, Singing in the Rain, Independence Day
I love re-watching fun films.
2.Name a movie that you’ve seen multiple times in the theater.
Mary Poppins - when I was young. And Star Wars IV, when I was less young.
3.Name an actor that would make you more inclined to see a movie.
Dustin Hoffman
4.Name an actor that would make you less likely to see a movie.
Will Ferrell.
5.Name a movie that you can and do quote from.
The Princess Bride ("Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya...") or Rocky Horror ("I didn't make him for you!") or Serenity ("God, god, we're all going to die") or "This is Spinal Tap" ("It goes up to 11") or any Marx Brothers movie.
6.Name a movie musical that you know all of the lyrics to all of the songs.
Singing in the Rain
7.Name a movie that you have been known to sing along with.
Singing in the Rain, Mama Mia - I have no shame.
8.Name a movie that you would recommend everyone see.
Um um um ... no idea. Disney's "Beauty and the Beast"
9.Name a movie that you own.
Really? Any one? I mean, there are so many ... "Hero"
10.Name an actor that launched his/her entertainment career in another medium but who has surprised you with his/her acting chops.
All the best ones have been done - Sinatra was amazing - but how about Mike Reid? Originally a stand-up and stuntman (well, for two films).
11.Have you ever seen a movie in a drive-in?
No.
12. Name a movie that you keep meaning to see but just haven’t yet gotten around to it.
Lots of them. Shawshank Redemption.
13.Ever walked out of a movie?
Never.
14.Name a movie that made you cry in the theater.
I'll blub at anything. Wall-E.
15.What’s the last movie you saw in the theater?
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Ice Age 3 before that.
16.What’s your favorite/preferred genre of movie?
Action adventure.
17.What’s the first movie you remember seeing in the theater?
2001: A Space Odyssey
18.What movie do you wish you had never seen?
None really, if I get bored I turn them off.
19.What is the weirdest movie you enjoyed?
I Heart Huckabees - loved it. Philosophical conflict.
20.What is the scariest movie you’ve seen?
Tricky, I've blanked them all out. "Aliens" the first time I saw it I suppose.
21.What is the funniest movie you’ve seen?
That's hard. I'll have to go with "Duck Soup".
What's on the turntable? Silence due to doing this ina clandestine fashion at work
1.Name a movie that you have seen more than 10 times.
Ghostbusters, The Princess Bride, Shrek, Singing in the Rain, Independence Day
I love re-watching fun films.
2.Name a movie that you’ve seen multiple times in the theater.
Mary Poppins - when I was young. And Star Wars IV, when I was less young.
3.Name an actor that would make you more inclined to see a movie.
Dustin Hoffman
4.Name an actor that would make you less likely to see a movie.
Will Ferrell.
5.Name a movie that you can and do quote from.
The Princess Bride ("Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya...") or Rocky Horror ("I didn't make him for you!") or Serenity ("God, god, we're all going to die") or "This is Spinal Tap" ("It goes up to 11") or any Marx Brothers movie.
6.Name a movie musical that you know all of the lyrics to all of the songs.
Singing in the Rain
7.Name a movie that you have been known to sing along with.
Singing in the Rain, Mama Mia - I have no shame.
8.Name a movie that you would recommend everyone see.
Um um um ... no idea. Disney's "Beauty and the Beast"
9.Name a movie that you own.
Really? Any one? I mean, there are so many ... "Hero"
10.Name an actor that launched his/her entertainment career in another medium but who has surprised you with his/her acting chops.
All the best ones have been done - Sinatra was amazing - but how about Mike Reid? Originally a stand-up and stuntman (well, for two films).
11.Have you ever seen a movie in a drive-in?
No.
12. Name a movie that you keep meaning to see but just haven’t yet gotten around to it.
Lots of them. Shawshank Redemption.
13.Ever walked out of a movie?
Never.
14.Name a movie that made you cry in the theater.
I'll blub at anything. Wall-E.
15.What’s the last movie you saw in the theater?
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Ice Age 3 before that.
16.What’s your favorite/preferred genre of movie?
Action adventure.
17.What’s the first movie you remember seeing in the theater?
2001: A Space Odyssey
18.What movie do you wish you had never seen?
None really, if I get bored I turn them off.
19.What is the weirdest movie you enjoyed?
I Heart Huckabees - loved it. Philosophical conflict.
20.What is the scariest movie you’ve seen?
Tricky, I've blanked them all out. "Aliens" the first time I saw it I suppose.
21.What is the funniest movie you’ve seen?
That's hard. I'll have to go with "Duck Soup".
What's on the turntable? Silence due to doing this ina clandestine fashion at work
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)
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Thank goodness I'm not dead
Yes, it's the Incorporate an Indy Quote or Slightly Modified Indy Quote meme. Not really a meme just a little game to play.
So, yes. Thank goodness I'm not dead.
Why should I be? You may ask. It has to do with my inconsiderate neighbour, in the flat below, who insists on listening to TV late into the night (specifically, 00:40 on Thursday nights) and preventing me from sleeping. He actually went away for two weeks. It was bliss.
He returned on Sunday evening but didn't do the TV thing.
But last night. Last night.
Last night I was actually drifting off at 11:30pm because his TV wasn't too loud. Then a song came on that he liked, so he turned it up. And left it turned up. Incredible. He did stop at about 00:20 this time which would not have been so bad but for one little thing:
I'm in the last week of preparing the Comedy Central UK website for launch. There's a lot to do, it's not desperate but it will be tight. I need to be able to think clearly during the day. I need sleep.
So I got stressed, I got really really stressed. The noice stopped but I had got so stressed that I still couldn't sleep. It was a vicious circle: every minute that passed worsened the situation because I Had To Sleep. But I couldn't. Until 3:30am.
Reluctantly, today, I decided I needed to do something about it. I had never seen my neighbour. I knew he was male. But nothing more. I needed to confront him and get him to stop it.
You know how it is. You run through a million scenarios, you try to decide what's the best thing to say. Luckily words are something I have some skill with and I'm reasonably good at dealing with people - and I know that the majority of people are decent. But there was always the chance that he wasn't one of the decent ones. There was a chance there would be a bad reaction.
I needed to use the magic words: "Can you help me?" These are the most powerful words on the planet, it is only a tiny minority of people who don't respond to that request.
I planned it out: Arrive at the house. Don't go to my flat because then I'll chicken out. Make it the first thing to do. (I did some reading up on handling this sort of situation, it is recommended you try to handle it when the problem is not happening.) Knock on his door (rather than ring from outside), which will slightly discombobulate him: if I'm knocking directly on his door then I'm either another tenant or a landlord. When he opens the door, introduce myself as the person upstairs and ask for his help.
After that, improvise. But don't be accusative. (Tricky for me, that one, I find the accusatory tone slips out easily.)
So that's what I did. And that's how it played out, action for action, word for word.
To my surprise he was in his 40s, I was expecting 20s-30s, and quite civilised. I explained the problem with me having to get up early. I asked if I was disturbing him at all (apparently not). Then I accepted his excuse ("the walls are really thin" - actually they're not) so he could save face. He said he'd keep the noise down, so I thanked him.
And hugely relieved at not being dead, I came to my room. I hope that handles it.
In other news: the daughter has an audition at Bristol Old Vic tomorrow - journey time over 4 hours one way, for 15 minutes. As previously mentioned this is her number one choice, especially when she found out that some of her favourite actors went there (like Gene Wilder, oh yes).
However something far more important happened for her today. In this audition she has to sing a short song unaccompanied. When the daughter was in Primary School she tried out for the School Choir and the headteacher told her she was not good enough. She was crushed and from that point has never really believed she could sing - only good enough for big choirs. We did pay for her to have some professional singing lessons at one point but they were short-lived for various reasons.
Anyway we had suggested that she get a music teacher at college to give her a lesson just to give her some pointers. She arranged it and finally got the lesson today. She was given some coaching on her breathing which she appreciated - but the teacher also told her that she had a beautiful singing voice!
She's floating. Finally the words of that stupid man, ten years ago, have been erased.
The wife and I are so happy. Next Monday the daughter is in Oxford for another audition and a couple of weeks later at RADA. Both of those involve hours of work, in groups and singly. Bristol Old Vic obviously want to make it just like an audition for an acting job.
And that's the end of the news.
So does any of this have to do with screenwriting - my story about the noise problem can be analysed to see which story elements exist. An exercise for the reader.
What's on the turntable? "The Book" by Sheryl Crow from "Sheryl Crow". Another superb songwriter, in a similar vein to Joni Mitchell, evoking powerful situations where the listener can see the story.
So, yes. Thank goodness I'm not dead.
Why should I be? You may ask. It has to do with my inconsiderate neighbour, in the flat below, who insists on listening to TV late into the night (specifically, 00:40 on Thursday nights) and preventing me from sleeping. He actually went away for two weeks. It was bliss.
He returned on Sunday evening but didn't do the TV thing.
But last night. Last night.
Last night I was actually drifting off at 11:30pm because his TV wasn't too loud. Then a song came on that he liked, so he turned it up. And left it turned up. Incredible. He did stop at about 00:20 this time which would not have been so bad but for one little thing:
I'm in the last week of preparing the Comedy Central UK website for launch. There's a lot to do, it's not desperate but it will be tight. I need to be able to think clearly during the day. I need sleep.
So I got stressed, I got really really stressed. The noice stopped but I had got so stressed that I still couldn't sleep. It was a vicious circle: every minute that passed worsened the situation because I Had To Sleep. But I couldn't. Until 3:30am.
Reluctantly, today, I decided I needed to do something about it. I had never seen my neighbour. I knew he was male. But nothing more. I needed to confront him and get him to stop it.
You know how it is. You run through a million scenarios, you try to decide what's the best thing to say. Luckily words are something I have some skill with and I'm reasonably good at dealing with people - and I know that the majority of people are decent. But there was always the chance that he wasn't one of the decent ones. There was a chance there would be a bad reaction.
I needed to use the magic words: "Can you help me?" These are the most powerful words on the planet, it is only a tiny minority of people who don't respond to that request.
I planned it out: Arrive at the house. Don't go to my flat because then I'll chicken out. Make it the first thing to do. (I did some reading up on handling this sort of situation, it is recommended you try to handle it when the problem is not happening.) Knock on his door (rather than ring from outside), which will slightly discombobulate him: if I'm knocking directly on his door then I'm either another tenant or a landlord. When he opens the door, introduce myself as the person upstairs and ask for his help.
After that, improvise. But don't be accusative. (Tricky for me, that one, I find the accusatory tone slips out easily.)
So that's what I did. And that's how it played out, action for action, word for word.
To my surprise he was in his 40s, I was expecting 20s-30s, and quite civilised. I explained the problem with me having to get up early. I asked if I was disturbing him at all (apparently not). Then I accepted his excuse ("the walls are really thin" - actually they're not) so he could save face. He said he'd keep the noise down, so I thanked him.
And hugely relieved at not being dead, I came to my room. I hope that handles it.
In other news: the daughter has an audition at Bristol Old Vic tomorrow - journey time over 4 hours one way, for 15 minutes. As previously mentioned this is her number one choice, especially when she found out that some of her favourite actors went there (like Gene Wilder, oh yes).
However something far more important happened for her today. In this audition she has to sing a short song unaccompanied. When the daughter was in Primary School she tried out for the School Choir and the headteacher told her she was not good enough. She was crushed and from that point has never really believed she could sing - only good enough for big choirs. We did pay for her to have some professional singing lessons at one point but they were short-lived for various reasons.
Anyway we had suggested that she get a music teacher at college to give her a lesson just to give her some pointers. She arranged it and finally got the lesson today. She was given some coaching on her breathing which she appreciated - but the teacher also told her that she had a beautiful singing voice!
She's floating. Finally the words of that stupid man, ten years ago, have been erased.
The wife and I are so happy. Next Monday the daughter is in Oxford for another audition and a couple of weeks later at RADA. Both of those involve hours of work, in groups and singly. Bristol Old Vic obviously want to make it just like an audition for an acting job.
And that's the end of the news.
So does any of this have to do with screenwriting - my story about the noise problem can be analysed to see which story elements exist. An exercise for the reader.
What's on the turntable? "The Book" by Sheryl Crow from "Sheryl Crow". Another superb songwriter, in a similar vein to Joni Mitchell, evoking powerful situations where the listener can see the story.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Unimportant meme
So I'm hurt nobody memed me, then I'm going "oh damn" because Laura did.
Rules
1) Put the link of the person who tagged you on your blog.
2) Write the rules.
3) Mention 6 things or habits of no real importance about you.
Oh dear. I am so arrogant I'm having trouble thinking of things that are not important about me.
a. My feet are the same size. (Unusual but not something I think about.)
b. I like mint things: mint chocolate, mint ice cream ... mints. I'll eat a packet of extra strong mints without a thought. (I have a mint Aero in the fridge...oh that's no good, that's important.)
c. I can get a tune out of lots of different sorts of instruments, but can't play anything well.
d. I'm 50.
e. I go a nice shade of olive when I tan.
f. I used to listen to the Archers avidly and still try to catch up occasionally.
Now I'm supposed to tag some other people ... Paul, Scaramanga, David Lemon, um um um, and anybody else who knows me who hasn't already been tagged.
What's on the turntable? "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin from "Led Zeppelin IV" - the greatest rock track ever written.
Rules
1) Put the link of the person who tagged you on your blog.
2) Write the rules.
3) Mention 6 things or habits of no real importance about you.
Oh dear. I am so arrogant I'm having trouble thinking of things that are not important about me.
a. My feet are the same size. (Unusual but not something I think about.)
b. I like mint things: mint chocolate, mint ice cream ... mints. I'll eat a packet of extra strong mints without a thought. (I have a mint Aero in the fridge...oh that's no good, that's important.)
c. I can get a tune out of lots of different sorts of instruments, but can't play anything well.
d. I'm 50.
e. I go a nice shade of olive when I tan.
f. I used to listen to the Archers avidly and still try to catch up occasionally.
Now I'm supposed to tag some other people ... Paul, Scaramanga, David Lemon, um um um, and anybody else who knows me who hasn't already been tagged.
What's on the turntable? "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin from "Led Zeppelin IV" - the greatest rock track ever written.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
The Moving Finger
Dave Turner, I think it was, had a sort of non-accusative meme about "how you got into writing". I've covered bits of this in various places but I thought I'd try to nail it down in one place.
I have always created stories for as long as I can remember, a habit I have to this day is that when I see a situation which looks remotely interesting I will create a story for it, instantly.
For example, woman standing on street corner, dressed to the nines: who is she, why is she there, who's she waiting for, what's going to happen?
But when I was young, pre-teen, when I put anything on paper it was always drawings, mostly space battles which I'd keep adding to until the sheet was full. I never wrote stories.
At grammar school (oh yes) things changed a little, I used to draw space battles with friends - we took sides and took turns adding something. At this time I was reading every SF and Fantasy book I could find, regardless of quality.
My Dad had given me a good start by reading the Lord of the Rings to me at bedtime over three years. (I returned the favour with my children - separately.)
Then there was the time that using a Super 8 (?) film camera a friend and I tried to create an SF animation using spaceships we had made.
At the age of 14 things suddenly changed: I read "Cider with Rosie" by Laurie Lee. Until that point my English language had been so-so, (my English Lit never got good). But with this book I discovered the beauty of language and I wanted to make it myself.
It was my mock 'O' levels at 15 when things really started to move. In the first place I was chastised by my English teacher to produce something less "obscure" in the real exam. I had written the opener for a fantasy opus. And at this time I began to write my first novel - during the time at the end of the exams after I'd finished answering the questions.
It ended up handwritten in exercise books at around 30,000 words. Then I re-wrote it, typing it at home in the evenings and it grew to 50,000 words. Of course it was rubbish. But I didn't care, I sent it to be published anyway - I had typed it in duplicate using carbon paper so I didn't even send the original.
My first rejections.
Then I wrote a sequel. This was bad too, but it was better. And longer.
And I was writing poetry. I wrote a lot of poetry. When we got to the Sixth Form I was taking Maths, More Maths and Physics but our headteacher insisted that the science-oriented pupils had an arts lesson every week. We had a student teacher, she was female, and I was in love :-)
She asked for everyone to write a Haiku, I wrote 18 in less than an hour. They just flowed off my pen.
Then university, studying Computer Science. And I still wrote poetry. I formed my own rock band and with a friend we wrote songs (did I mention music? No? I was pretty good at that too. I'm just so clever.)
But no novels. No screenplays.
"Blake's 7" ended and I was so disgusted with the last episode that I wrote a synopsis of another episode to finish it properly and sent it to the BBC.
I went to an arts festival and wrote poetry, on order, for real money. I made £100 in one day from poems, when £100 was a lot of money.
Then I started work. I still wrote some poetry but mostly the writing ground to a halt for a few years.
Ever since university I'd been playing Role-Playing Games (D&D and the like) in fact I've been playing nearly every week for 30 years - except the last couple where I've been working away from home. I ran some of the games we played and that calls from planning the adventures, plotting them out and so forth. A different type of writing.
I also attended a Live Role-Playing centre called Treasure Trap (dressing up in silly costumes and hitting each other with swords). But it wasn't random - the adventures were written down and had plots and characters. It was completely improvised on the "player" side (the players don't know the plot) and improvised with guidelines on the "monster" side.
In 1987 my wife and I started our own live role-playing games company and ran that for six years and I wrote some of the adventures.
It was around this time that I designed the entire magical back-story and creation mythos of another live role-playing group called The Lorien Trust - though I think they like to forget the fact. But I'm only slightly bitter.
On the work side I had become a magazine editor which I did from 1984 until 2001 or so. In that time I wrote and edited over 5 million words.
I had also done some acting and my poems always worked best read aloud. There is a pattern in that my overall writing, apart from the novels, was visually and physically oriented.
For ten years from the early 90s I worked bit by bit on a new novel (I stopped at one point for 2 years). This was a vast improvement on my earlier attempts and loosely based on the live role-playing stuff. Though it left those far behind.
It was when Buffy the Vampire Slayer finished that I wrote the first "series bible" for Monsters but no script. Then I forgot about it. Then Heroes started and I pulled out Monsters and began working on the script for real.
It turned out that I do seem to have some skill in this area (something which constantly surprises me) but, looking back, it might not have been obvious where I was going to end up but there is a logic to it.
Somewhere.
What's on the turntable? Who knows, posted in advance on Saturday morning
I have always created stories for as long as I can remember, a habit I have to this day is that when I see a situation which looks remotely interesting I will create a story for it, instantly.
For example, woman standing on street corner, dressed to the nines: who is she, why is she there, who's she waiting for, what's going to happen?
But when I was young, pre-teen, when I put anything on paper it was always drawings, mostly space battles which I'd keep adding to until the sheet was full. I never wrote stories.
At grammar school (oh yes) things changed a little, I used to draw space battles with friends - we took sides and took turns adding something. At this time I was reading every SF and Fantasy book I could find, regardless of quality.
My Dad had given me a good start by reading the Lord of the Rings to me at bedtime over three years. (I returned the favour with my children - separately.)
Then there was the time that using a Super 8 (?) film camera a friend and I tried to create an SF animation using spaceships we had made.
At the age of 14 things suddenly changed: I read "Cider with Rosie" by Laurie Lee. Until that point my English language had been so-so, (my English Lit never got good). But with this book I discovered the beauty of language and I wanted to make it myself.
It was my mock 'O' levels at 15 when things really started to move. In the first place I was chastised by my English teacher to produce something less "obscure" in the real exam. I had written the opener for a fantasy opus. And at this time I began to write my first novel - during the time at the end of the exams after I'd finished answering the questions.
It ended up handwritten in exercise books at around 30,000 words. Then I re-wrote it, typing it at home in the evenings and it grew to 50,000 words. Of course it was rubbish. But I didn't care, I sent it to be published anyway - I had typed it in duplicate using carbon paper so I didn't even send the original.
My first rejections.
Then I wrote a sequel. This was bad too, but it was better. And longer.
And I was writing poetry. I wrote a lot of poetry. When we got to the Sixth Form I was taking Maths, More Maths and Physics but our headteacher insisted that the science-oriented pupils had an arts lesson every week. We had a student teacher, she was female, and I was in love :-)
She asked for everyone to write a Haiku, I wrote 18 in less than an hour. They just flowed off my pen.
Then university, studying Computer Science. And I still wrote poetry. I formed my own rock band and with a friend we wrote songs (did I mention music? No? I was pretty good at that too. I'm just so clever.)
But no novels. No screenplays.
"Blake's 7" ended and I was so disgusted with the last episode that I wrote a synopsis of another episode to finish it properly and sent it to the BBC.
I went to an arts festival and wrote poetry, on order, for real money. I made £100 in one day from poems, when £100 was a lot of money.
Then I started work. I still wrote some poetry but mostly the writing ground to a halt for a few years.
Ever since university I'd been playing Role-Playing Games (D&D and the like) in fact I've been playing nearly every week for 30 years - except the last couple where I've been working away from home. I ran some of the games we played and that calls from planning the adventures, plotting them out and so forth. A different type of writing.
I also attended a Live Role-Playing centre called Treasure Trap (dressing up in silly costumes and hitting each other with swords). But it wasn't random - the adventures were written down and had plots and characters. It was completely improvised on the "player" side (the players don't know the plot) and improvised with guidelines on the "monster" side.
In 1987 my wife and I started our own live role-playing games company and ran that for six years and I wrote some of the adventures.
It was around this time that I designed the entire magical back-story and creation mythos of another live role-playing group called The Lorien Trust - though I think they like to forget the fact. But I'm only slightly bitter.
On the work side I had become a magazine editor which I did from 1984 until 2001 or so. In that time I wrote and edited over 5 million words.
I had also done some acting and my poems always worked best read aloud. There is a pattern in that my overall writing, apart from the novels, was visually and physically oriented.
For ten years from the early 90s I worked bit by bit on a new novel (I stopped at one point for 2 years). This was a vast improvement on my earlier attempts and loosely based on the live role-playing stuff. Though it left those far behind.
It was when Buffy the Vampire Slayer finished that I wrote the first "series bible" for Monsters but no script. Then I forgot about it. Then Heroes started and I pulled out Monsters and began working on the script for real.
It turned out that I do seem to have some skill in this area (something which constantly surprises me) but, looking back, it might not have been obvious where I was going to end up but there is a logic to it.
Somewhere.
What's on the turntable? Who knows, posted in advance on Saturday morning
Friday, January 30, 2009
A Good Year
Laura memed me with this: If you could go back to live in any one year from your lifetime, which one would you choose?
I admit my original understanding was which year would I like to live again to make it better (almost every single one of them) but it's supposed to be which one is the best so you'd like to enjoy it again. Like a re-run of your favourite episode of "Only Fools and Horses".
This is a toughie for me, honestly. My child years ... well, let's just say I dislike what I was then, even if I did read a lot of good books. University wasn't too bad but nothing special.
Since then I've struggled. I suppose there's never been a year when I've been happy with myself - I could have done so much better.
This sounds depressing, doesn't it? I'm neither depressed or unhappy - it just could have been so much better if I weren't so lazy.
(Marvin: The first ten million years were the worst, the next ten million years, they were the worst too. After that I went into a bit of a decline.)
In 1982 I met my wife-to-be. In 1984 we were married. In 1991 my daughter was born and my son in 1997.
Can I choose 2009? We're a month in and it's been okay so far? Except it hasn't, because we've been on the border of bankruptcy (it's okay, it's fixed now - I have a new contract).
But this month is a perfect example of my entire life: Struggle. It's true that in all cases the goodness outweighed the badness, but sometimes it was damned close.
See what I mean? What year would I want re-live? None?
If you twisted my arm ... ow! ... I suppose 2008 was the best because I discovered I had some ability at screenwriting, and I had a good job for 6 months of it (and a couple of rubbish jobs but at least they paid). My son went to big school and is doing well. My daughter did well at college. My wife lost the appalling teacher she'd had as a subordinate and gained a couple of brilliant ones that's made her job far less stressful.
So, generally speaking, if I had to relive a year then 2008 would be okay. But really, I prefer to look ahead.
I do hereby tag Potdoll and Chip.
What's on the turntable? "Amarok" by Mike Oldfield.
I admit my original understanding was which year would I like to live again to make it better (almost every single one of them) but it's supposed to be which one is the best so you'd like to enjoy it again. Like a re-run of your favourite episode of "Only Fools and Horses".
This is a toughie for me, honestly. My child years ... well, let's just say I dislike what I was then, even if I did read a lot of good books. University wasn't too bad but nothing special.
Since then I've struggled. I suppose there's never been a year when I've been happy with myself - I could have done so much better.
This sounds depressing, doesn't it? I'm neither depressed or unhappy - it just could have been so much better if I weren't so lazy.
(Marvin: The first ten million years were the worst, the next ten million years, they were the worst too. After that I went into a bit of a decline.)
In 1982 I met my wife-to-be. In 1984 we were married. In 1991 my daughter was born and my son in 1997.
Can I choose 2009? We're a month in and it's been okay so far? Except it hasn't, because we've been on the border of bankruptcy (it's okay, it's fixed now - I have a new contract).
But this month is a perfect example of my entire life: Struggle. It's true that in all cases the goodness outweighed the badness, but sometimes it was damned close.
See what I mean? What year would I want re-live? None?
If you twisted my arm ... ow! ... I suppose 2008 was the best because I discovered I had some ability at screenwriting, and I had a good job for 6 months of it (and a couple of rubbish jobs but at least they paid). My son went to big school and is doing well. My daughter did well at college. My wife lost the appalling teacher she'd had as a subordinate and gained a couple of brilliant ones that's made her job far less stressful.
So, generally speaking, if I had to relive a year then 2008 would be okay. But really, I prefer to look ahead.
I do hereby tag Potdoll and Chip.
What's on the turntable? "Amarok" by Mike Oldfield.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
My Office and other stories
Okay there was a meme going around a while back about people's offices, where they write, being the new kid on the block I didn't get tagged (I've had my revenge).
This is my office:
That's it. Notebook, pens, phone and computer. Exciting, isn't it?
I finally remembered what the resource was that I'd thought of while walking the dog. I went off to the website to see if it is still there and it is, though, in retrospect, perhaps it's not that brilliant a resource.
Alright, alright. It's called the Degree Confluence Project, and it's better than it used to be.
You know the Earth is mapped using imaginary lines called Longitude (which run north-south numbered 0 to 359) and Latitude (which go round and round parallel, to the Equator, numbered +90 to -90). Both are measured in degrees of angle.
There are imaginary places where the imaginary longitudes cross with the imaginary latitudes - the confluences. Except the places themselves aren't imaginary, they are real. The project involves people going to these confluences, taking photos and uploading them.
So they are collecting photographic samples of the world at each one of these confluence points (there are rules, like ignoring any confluence point that's at sea and out of sight of land).
So if you want to know what a part of the world looks like, you might be able to find it using the Confluence Project.
Hm. I may miss my target on completing the first draft of Unit X by tomorrow. The problem is that my employer, on the last contract I did, has a day in hand - he paid me for an extra day. And now he wants to use it.
But I'll try.
What's on the turntable? "Blush Response" by Vangelis from "Bladerunner CD1"
This is my office:
That's it. Notebook, pens, phone and computer. Exciting, isn't it?
I finally remembered what the resource was that I'd thought of while walking the dog. I went off to the website to see if it is still there and it is, though, in retrospect, perhaps it's not that brilliant a resource.
Alright, alright. It's called the Degree Confluence Project, and it's better than it used to be.
You know the Earth is mapped using imaginary lines called Longitude (which run north-south numbered 0 to 359) and Latitude (which go round and round parallel, to the Equator, numbered +90 to -90). Both are measured in degrees of angle.
There are imaginary places where the imaginary longitudes cross with the imaginary latitudes - the confluences. Except the places themselves aren't imaginary, they are real. The project involves people going to these confluences, taking photos and uploading them.
So they are collecting photographic samples of the world at each one of these confluence points (there are rules, like ignoring any confluence point that's at sea and out of sight of land).
So if you want to know what a part of the world looks like, you might be able to find it using the Confluence Project.
Hm. I may miss my target on completing the first draft of Unit X by tomorrow. The problem is that my employer, on the last contract I did, has a day in hand - he paid me for an extra day. And now he wants to use it.
But I'll try.
What's on the turntable? "Blush Response" by Vangelis from "Bladerunner CD1"
Sunday, January 04, 2009
The Sauce of Memes
Memes have to start somewhere, someone has to think "oh, what about..." and I had an idea for a meme a while back, so here it is:
When it comes to writing, what do you know you're good at, and what aspect of writing are you worst at? (Procrastination is not permitted as either part of the answer.)
So, me:
I am hugely surprised to discover that I write good dialogue. I didn't believe it to start with but lots of people have said so, including actors, so now I know it to be true. At least, good dialogue after a few drafts :-)
What puts me in complete terror are scenes without lots of physical action, I can do them but they scare the life out of me. I have action-dependency :-) and feel the non-action scenes I write are rubbish. Then I'll watch something like the BBC's Pride and Prejudice and wish I could write wonderful scenes like that.
There.
I tag Lara, the Arnopp and Potdoll as a gentle opener. Over to you.
What's on the turntable? "Don't interrupt the sorrow" by Joni Mitchell from "The Hissing of Summer Lawns"
For the avoidance of doubt among the humour-impaired, I spelt the title that way deliberately.
When it comes to writing, what do you know you're good at, and what aspect of writing are you worst at? (Procrastination is not permitted as either part of the answer.)
So, me:
I am hugely surprised to discover that I write good dialogue. I didn't believe it to start with but lots of people have said so, including actors, so now I know it to be true. At least, good dialogue after a few drafts :-)
What puts me in complete terror are scenes without lots of physical action, I can do them but they scare the life out of me. I have action-dependency :-) and feel the non-action scenes I write are rubbish. Then I'll watch something like the BBC's Pride and Prejudice and wish I could write wonderful scenes like that.
There.
I tag Lara, the Arnopp and Potdoll as a gentle opener. Over to you.
What's on the turntable? "Don't interrupt the sorrow" by Joni Mitchell from "The Hissing of Summer Lawns"
For the avoidance of doubt among the humour-impaired, I spelt the title that way deliberately.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
The DVD Meme
I visit your house/apartment, and you spot me looking at your DVD/VHS shelf.
1. What's on there that you instantly force me to borrow, because it's a great movie and you figure I haven't seen it?
"Casablanca" not enough people have seen this film.
2. What you do also lend me, because even though it's not considered a classic, it's a personal favourite?
"Undercover Blues" Dennis Quaid and Kathleen Turner as spies on holiday with Tom Arnold and Stan Tucci, what's not to like?
3. What movie is on there that you have no rational explanation for owning, and which you try to slide under the couch while I'm distracted?
"Miss Congeniality #2". I love Sandra Bullock. But this is a monstrosity. Actually I don't even own it, but that's only because I discovered it was rubbish just in time.
(Hm, not a SF/F among them. Curious.)
What's on the turntable? All very quiet.
1. What's on there that you instantly force me to borrow, because it's a great movie and you figure I haven't seen it?
"Casablanca" not enough people have seen this film.
2. What you do also lend me, because even though it's not considered a classic, it's a personal favourite?
"Undercover Blues" Dennis Quaid and Kathleen Turner as spies on holiday with Tom Arnold and Stan Tucci, what's not to like?
3. What movie is on there that you have no rational explanation for owning, and which you try to slide under the couch while I'm distracted?
"Miss Congeniality #2". I love Sandra Bullock. But this is a monstrosity. Actually I don't even own it, but that's only because I discovered it was rubbish just in time.
(Hm, not a SF/F among them. Curious.)
What's on the turntable? All very quiet.
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"
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