2001: A Who Odyssey - utterly ****ing genius

Fire up the kindle: eight of my novels go digital

A few years back I wrote a bunch of books based on characters and concepts from iconic British comic 2000AD. [They were published by Games Workshop's Black Flame imprint, under license.] There were two Judge Dredd novels, three featuring Russian rogue Nikolai Dante, and a trilogy about vampires stalking the battlefields of WWII that was inspired by quirky serial Fiends of the Eastern Front.

Black Flame shut down in 2006, and the book rights slowly reverted to Rebellion, the company that owns 2000AD. Now all eight of those novels have been re-issued in digital format for the Kindle e-reader. [Sold by Amazon.com, the Kindle has been a massive factor in popularising digital books across the Atlantic. How long before Apple leaps into the fray with a dedicated i-Reader tablet?]

Alas, I don't get any royalties on Kindle sales of these books, having signed away my rights for a flat fee. [It was work, I needed the money and they weren't my characters.] So there's no financial gain for me in pimping the Kindle editions, but I'm glad to see them back in circulation. No writer enjoys seeing their work vanish, you want to stay in print. Whether that's via ink or pixels doesn't matter.

The two Dredd novels I'm not so fussed about. The first, Bad Moon Rising, was required to prove myself to Black Flame, while the second [Kingdom of the Blind] is far from my best work. The Dante novels are among my favourites of all the books I've written, pure romps that sold terribly at the time. Perhaps they can find a more appreciative audience on the Kindle? Anything's possible, I guess.

My Fiends of the Eastern Front trilogy was a big success for Black Flame, among the best selling of the 2000AD range. Vampires + Nazis = equals sales, especially in the US. A Black Flame assistant editor inadvertently told me American sales were fives times those in the UK, despite the books focusing on the Eastern Front conflict between Axis and Communist forces [no Americans involved].

The first book in the trilogy, Operation Vampyr, is good but I felt weighed down by all the research I'd done to achieve the military verisimilitude. For me the trilogy came alive with the second volume, The Blood Red Army. This moved from the perspective of German soldiers to the Russian fighters' point of view. It also switched to first person narrative, a breakthrough moment in the series.

The final novel in the trilogy, Twilight of the Dead, brought together everyone who'd survived up to that point for a last, apocalyptic battle in the dying days of WWII. For the trilogy I wrote close to quarter of a million words, extending the Fiends concept far beyond the original strip, a rather slight and lurid 44-page thrill-ride. Felt like I'd made it my own, in some ways.

The trilogy was such a success, Black Flame commissioned me to start a new set of novels translating the WWII vampires concept to the Pacific front. US fighters battle Japanese vampires, the so-called yellow peril take on a deadly new meaning. I wrote the first book, Fiends of the Rising Sun, and it was published in 2006. Plans were afoot for further volumes, an epic in the works.

But Games Workshop chose to shut down Black Flame and I never got the chance to finish what I'd started. Fiends of the Rising Sun is the only one of my 2000AD Black Flame novels that hasn't been re-issued via the Kindle - yet. There's been vague talk of continuing the Pacific front series, if e-books proved a success for Rebellion's publishing imprint, Abaddon. Time will tell, as ever.

And so I'm back [but not from outer space]

Phew. Been an action-packed couple of weeks, hence the lack of blog posting. After an unhappy month of travails I now have a shiny, new and fully functioning Mac with a ludicrously big screen. Yet to figure out 90% of the things it can do, but email and all my old programmes work so that'll do for now. No doubt I'll discover more soon.

The week before last was a crazed runaround, doing a thousand things at once before going holiday. Had the pleasure of hosting a masterclass session with James Moran at what's now called ESSaMA - the Edinburgh Skillset Screen and Media Academy. Back when I was studying screenwriting there, it was just Screen Academy Scotland. [Perhaps they realised somebody else was using the acronym SAS.]

James was a delight - funny, informative, telling lots of truths without naming too many names. Hopefully his session will have been an eye-opener for those present starting on their journey as screenwriters. Plenty of my creative writing MA students came along too, and stayed around to chat afterwards. All in all, our first joint masterclass with ESSaMA was a rousing success.

Next day it was up before dawn to catch a flight to New York for a city break in the Big Apple. Rather than check into a hotel, spent four nights in a studio apartment near the Flatiron building, rented via the airbnb.com website. Wonderfully central location on Lexington Avenue, pretty much walking distance from everything south of Central Park with the subway only a block away. Aces.

Trip was blessed with incredible weather - glorious sunshine all but the last day, autumnal yet warm and welcoming. The only other time I'd been in New York was a week after New Year's, when the temperature never got up to zero and a foot of snow covered every surface - bitterly cold, in short. The contrast couldn't haven't been more stark, and this trip couldn't have been better timed.

Saturday was about settling in and getting comfortable. Up before dawn on Sunday to go on an architectural walking tour - the Flatiron, Empire State, 30 Rock, etc. Went to see the Broadway production of A Steady Rain, starring Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman. Had a walk through Central Park, basking in sunshine while people ice skated. Watched the season finale of Mad Men as it was broadcast. Class.

Monday was shopping day, particularly SoHo and the East Village. Met up with 2000AD artist Simon Fraser for lunch at Katz's Diner, sight of that infamous scene from When Harry Met Sally where Meg Ryan fakes an orgasm. Yes, the sandwiches there are that good. A real slice of old New York, the diner's closing soon so the whole block can be rebuilt. It'll return, but will never be quite the same.

Tuesday was culture day, an amazing exhibition of paintings by Kandinsky at the Guggenheim Museum. Another stroll through sun-baked Central Park, pausing to admire the Alice In Wonderful sculpture. Bizarrely, someone chose that moment to practise their bagpipes in the park. Badly. Seems I can leave Scotland to go on holiday, but I can guarantee to escape it. An odd moment.

Wednesday was packing up day. Wandered round an open air organic market in Union Square and saw Oscar-tipped Brit movie An Education at the pictures. Lovely. Then the long schlep back to Newark airport for the flight home. Only at the last did anything go wrong, as my broken seat wouldn't recline. Made for a very uncomfortable 7+ hour flight, thanks to my ever-broken tailbone.

Back home from Edinburgh, had a bath and then drove into Glasgow to talk about narrative, comics and new technology at a digital forum called Cross Creative. Can't recall what I said in my jet-lagged state, but it seemed to go alright. Back home again to collapse. Into uni next day to lead a class, do some mentoring and attempt to plot the way forwards. Quite a couple of weeks.

Today I've got some ideas to develop for Doctors and thoughts to prepare for a meeting in That Fancy London tomorrow. Happily, I'm not getting the pre-dawn flight down, so I don't have to rise at 4am to start my travels. But it will be a long day, and then I'm back teaching at Edinburgh Napier University the rest of the week. In no time that four-day city break seems a long time ago. Such is life.

New Home Office rules ban graphic novelist

Comic artist Nikhil Singh, illustrator of the acclaimed graphic novelSalem Brownstone: All Along the Watchtowers has been held in South Africa for five months - unable to attend his own book launch - due to new Home Office rules that deem him 'underqualified'.

South Africa-born Singh has been a resident of London for three years, but cannot return due to the Home Office's decision not to renew any Artists' Visas. This means international artists whose visas have expired must reapply for a Tier One Highly Skilled Worker Visa which cannot be obtained without a degree or similar proof of tertiary education.

Despite being illustrator of a graphic novel acclaimed by the Financial Times, the Sunday Express and comics legend Alan Moore, Singh was told he does not qualify for this visa because he does not have a degree. He was also made to take an English language test, despite having worked in the UK as a journalist for many years.

Unable to leave South Africa for the past five months, Singh has lost his London home and been unable to see his girlfriend of seven years as a result. He has spent more than £2,000 appealing this process, without success.

Nikhil Singh says: "This new legislature speaks poorly of a country previously renowned as an international nexus of arts and culture. The fact that so many academics and artists are being refused entry for such petty reasons only weakens England's cultural backbone. The new immigration laws have insinuated an atmosphere of creative policing that is entirely out of character with the various professions it has effected."

Paul Gravett, Director of Comica Festival and author of Graphic Novels: Stories to Change Your Life says: "The refusal of Nikhil Singh's application for a Highly Skilled Worker Visa ... is short-sighted and prejudiced towards the graphic novel medium, and plainly ignores his exceptional merits. One look at the extraordinary craftsmanship of his contributions to the Salem Brownstone graphic novel would convince anyone Nikhil is not only 'highly skilled' but a visionary artist of international standing."

Salem Brownstone: All Along the Watchtowers launched in a sell-out Salem Spooktacular event at the Institute of Contemporary Arts in London last month.

Art for Hearts charity auction

Normally I don't plug charity events on this blog unless they're to do with some form of cancer research [I've lost too many good people to the big C]. But this appeal from regular Vicious Imagery reader Ian Stacey sounds like a good cause to me...

ART FOR HEARTS

I’m currently organising an auction to raise funds for research done by the transplant team at Great Ormond Street Hospital. This is a cause very dear to my family - our son’s life was saved by a heart transplant four weeks after birth. The auction is original art and signed digital prints by children’s illustrators. I know this is an unusual subject for your blog but we would appreciate any publicity we could get.

The ART FOR HEARTS auction features work donated by children’s illustrators such as Korky Paul, Lynne Chapman and An Vrombaut. Most of the art is original although there are also some signed digital prints and screen prints too. All proceeds will help fund research by the transplant team at GOSH. Transplanted organs do not have the same life expectancy as non-transplanted organs and the team is seeking ways to combat this.

Full details of the auction are available to view here. It will run on Ebay for a week from Monday, November 2nd.

My journey with 'Doctors'. so far

Nope, I'm not at this year's Screenwriters' Festival in Cheltenham. Wish I was, especially now the event's closer to the town centre, but commitments elsewhere precluded me attending. I've papers to mark for the creative writing MA, lectures to plan, a script to polish, and pitches to develop for Fantomen and Doctors. Instead of talking about writing, I'll actually be writing.

So, for all those people who wish they could be at SWF 09 but aren't, here's a behind the scenes peek at the long process by which I got my first TV drama screenwriting credit. Way back in 2002 I met a writer who was then a regular Doctors scribe. He encouraged me to try out for the medical drama series, promising to put a good word in for me with his script editor. Shame I wasn't ready.

I did have the good sense to watch the show, get to know the cast. Nailing the regulars is essentially on a continuing drama like Doctors. Stories of the day may be the show's bread and butter, but it's the trials and tribulations faced by the regulars that keep viewers coming back. Anyway, I made a classic blunder - I wrote a Doctors spec script and sent it in to Doctors for their consideration.

For a long time the spec script was a well worn path into US TV writing, but even there you never send a House spec script to the House script team. You send them a spec for another procedural show, to demonstrate you can write, plot and structure. [These days spec pilots are emerging as good calling cards across the Atlantic, but a good spec script still has its merits in the US system.]

Nobody wants to read a spec script for a UK show. You get invited to write a trial script, but that's a later stage in the process. First you have to impress somebody with your own, original writing. Sending a Doctors spec script to a Doctors script editor? Pure amateur hour. Unsurprisingly, it got ignored for months. But I was giving up on it, not just yet. [I'm nothing if not persistant.]

I schlepped all the way from Scotland to Leicester [not easily done in a day] for a 90-minute roadshow by the Doctors team. I introduced myself to the relevant script editor afterwards, and asked about my script. I even got the professional writer who'd first fired any interest to nag the poor script editor. Eventually, I got a response - a two line rejection letter. Not what I was hoping for.

I waited 48 hours, and phoned for more feedback. I needed more experience, come back when I'd got some. The script editor was absolutely right, but it wasn't easy to hear - especially when Doctors was [and still is, to some extent] to means by which many writers get their first experience of TV drama. If I couldn't write for Doctors, how was I supposed to get the necessary experience?

Fast forward to September 2007. I'd just finished my screenwriting MA, concentrating on TV drama. I'd also undertaken a clutch of courses to expand my skillset beyond what was taught on the course: TAPS script editing workshop; storylining for continuing drama workshop at the Script Factory; nine months being mentored by writer-director Adrian Mead; storylining workshop at the Emmerdale script department.

I'd also had a play broadcast by BBC Radio 4, a dozen audio dramas produced by Big Finish, numerous novels published and won an international screenwriting award for my short film script DANNY'S TOYS. In short, I'd gone away, got some experience and worked to improve my screenwriting craft skills. It was time for another letter to the same script editor at Doctors [fortunately, they were still there].

This time I knew better than to enclose a script. I simply asked for the chance to submit some of my original writing for consideration. The script editor replied, offering to pass this request down the food chain to an assistant - fine by me. I duly got an invitation to submit and sent in the script for my MA final project, FAMILIES AT WAR, along with a copy of DANNY'S TOYS.

They were well received and I was invited to write a trial script. The onset of Christmas meant my try-out got pushed to early 2008. [Patience and persistence are worth a lot, nothing happens quickly.] For the trial script I was given serial material from an old episode [not one I'd seen, as it happened, though I was watching the show faithfully in preparation for my trial script].

The serial contained the beats for my B and C stories, comprising about 30% of my script. My job was to blend that into a story of the day I'd invented, hopefully finding some resonance between them. For the Doctors trial script I was given ten calendar days from start to finish. Alas, none of my stockpiled A stories fit well with the supplied serial. Time to find another A story.

The trial script process is a great test of your ability to work fast and think faster. Normally each story of the day [SOTD] is developed over time. You get feedback from your script editor and it only gets to a commission if a series producer has approved it. Even then, you produce a scene by scene demonstrating how the SOTD works with supplied serial. On a trial, that's all down to you.

Despite having only ten days, I decided to follow the processes used to create a real episode. I choose my SOTD, researched the medical background and wrote it up into a two-page pitch. Next I worked on a scene by scene, integrating my SOTD with the serial material I'd been given. Only then did I dive into writing my trial script. I got that to a polished first draft, then sent it out for a quick read.

Feedback from fellow scribes helped smooth out a few lumps and bumps. One of my guest characters arrived too late in the script, but I couldn't find a good fix for that. The serial featured a regular whose voice I'd never managed to capture, but there was nothing I could do about. One final polish and off the finished script went. Happily, I didn't have to wait too long for an answer, maybe a week or three.

The news was good, my trial was enough to get a foot in the door. I'd earned the right to submit SOTD. But I was told in no uncertain terms this was just the beginning of a much longer journey. Getting an SOTD approved [a process known as being 'banked'] could take months, even years. There would be little or, more likely, no feedback on why pitches were rejected. Sheer weight of numbers precludes that.

[In a delicious irony, a newcomer at the script office BBC Scotland soap River City stumbled across FAMILIES AT WAR in their slushpile that same month. It had been submitted the previous September, around the same time I'd written to Doctor. The River City newcomer wrote me a rejection letter dissing my script. I wrote back with news of my successful Doctors trial. A nice moment.]

I started submitting SOTD pitches to Doctors, getting a few of them on the series producer's reading pile - but none were cutting the mustard. My handler in the script department took pity, getting me an invitation to the July 2008 Doctors mini-academy, a shadow scheme whereby eight writers spent five days in Birmingham learning how to better write for the show. This culminates in solo pitches.

There were no guarantees we would get a commission from these pitches, but it would help introduce us to the production team and might improve our chances in future. A golden opportunity, I was chuffed to bits. I resolved to have twelve brilliant ideas ready and select the best three for pitching. In the end I only managed nine before heading south to Birmingham, some stronger than others.

The mini-academy was a great experience, and a big boost for my confidence. Come the final morning I was pitching to the assistant who'd shepherded me through the system, the script editor who'd suffered my 2002 efforts and a producer. I pitched my best two ideas first, and got lots of positive comments. Feeling bullish, I pushed my luck with a third idea with the working title A PILL FOR EVERY ILL.

It was less developed than the others, needed more work done on it. As a consequence it got pulled apart, but there were some positive noises too. I decided to put that one on the back burner and concentrate on my two favourites. Once home, I rushed to submit full SOTD pitches for those two, confident at least one of them would hit the target. [The series producer had other ideas. Such is life.]

In September I submitted A PILL FOR EVERY ILL as a formal SOTD pitch. This featured tow regulars on the series clashing about how best to treat a patient, divided by their different medical ideologies - one old school, one more New Age. But cast changes had overtaken my pitch, the New Age character was leaving the show. Time for a rethink and a massive rewrite. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.

Submitted a revised version of PILL in October 2008, swapping out one regular for another but keeping the essentials of my story intact. Still not quite there, more tweaks needed. The final version of my SOTD got added to the series producer's reading pile in November 2008. By this point my two favourites had been rejected and several other pitches were falling by the wayside.

Fast forward to February 2009: still no word on PILL, but more SOTD pitches get read and rejected. One year on from my successful trial, and I don't feel much closer to getting that elusive first pitch banked. Feeling a bit down, especially as others from the mini-academy are celebrating their first commissions. Tell myself patience and persistence will win the day - eventually.

June 2009: email from my champion inside the production office, who's now a fully fledged script editor. Good news, PILL has been banked. There's no guarantee that will lead to a full commission [and no money until that happens], but it's a step forward. My SOTD was on the reading pile for seven months, an indication of how much material the production team must wade through to fill 230 eps a year.

August 2009: get a phone call, PILL has been plucked from the story bank and paired with serial material for what will be Episode 199 of Doctors Series XI - am I up for writing a scene by scene? You bet. Do I mind shifting the action from one location to another? Not at all. Can I rewrite my SOTD so it's an entirely different doctor? Gulp! Yes, absolutely, of course I can. I've got a week to deliver.

This is it, the last stage at which I can fail and end up with nothing. I submit my effort a day earlier, and nervous waiting begins. I fully expect to asked for a rewrite of my scene by scene, the chances of nailing it first time - especially with so many changed elements from the original SOTD - seem remote. This is the moment of truth, where I could attain my first TV drama writing credit.

A week later I get my call, and the news is good. I've got to cut a fistful of scenes and there's plenty of nips and tucks to be made - but no need to revise my scene by scene. It's straight to script, a formal commission. Can I deliver my first draft within a week? I wheedle an extra day because I'll be spending the original deadline running a workshop at the Edinburgh International Book Festival.

But I didn't need that extra time, and deliver my first draft a day ahead of the original deadline. More anxious waiting. Lots of notes come back, but nothing major. Seems I've captured the regulars well, even two semi-regular characters who hadn't been cast yet. My response gets delayed as I'm away on a residential course for two days, but I still manage to deliver my second draft early.

Further drafts follow, honing and refining, but the bulk of my script remains exactly as it was in the original draft. I caught most of the target first time of asking, which makes everyones job that bit easier thereafter. Deliver my final draft before the end of September, by which point the director is about to start prep for the block of three eps that includes A PILL FOR EVERY ILL.

One month on and filming is complete. Post-production may already be underway. The end results of all that effort are due for broadcast on Wednesday, February 10th, 2010 - almost exactly two years on from my successful trial script. I was warned it could be a long journey to my first commission, and so it proved. Let's hope the journey to my second commission is a little less lengthy...

Going on location with Doctors

It's been a madcap few weeks, and I can't see things slowing down for a while yet. Since this is one of my rare days at home without a screaming deadline [plenty of deadlines, just none of them screaming yet], thought I'd say hello and tell you what I've doing lately. Teaching, lots of teaching. Writing, plenty of that too. Polishing my submission for the Scotland Writes opportunity, especially.

But I spent the weekend away, most of it in That Fancy London. Had a reunion dinner with almost everyone from the Lighthouse TV drama team writing project, lovely to catch up and see how people are doing. Since we last met in April there's been a marriage in the ranks, and a new baby is imminent. Lots of writing, plenty of successes, more to come. Rest of weekend with friends, and saw Zombieland. Aces.

Sunday I headed into the Midlands and spent the night with Quakers. [They really are the friendliest of people.] Monday, I was on location watching filming for my first ever TV screenwriting commission. It's an episode of medical drama Doctors, due to be broadcast by BBC1 on Wednesday February 10, 2010. [Contract obligations preclude me telling you anything about the plot, especially serial elements.]

So what can I say? The day was spent shooting at two locations, both privately-owned homes. First thing was three scenes at a home in Bournville, the suburb built by Lord Cadbury for his workers. [Appropriately enough, the owner left out a massive bowl of chocolate buttons which were happily consumed by cast and crew. As a consequence this residence is nacknamed the Chocolate House.]

Two of the three scenes called for an infant actor, which creates it own problems. Doctors is shot on a tight, tight schedule. That means there isn't much time for the toddler to do what's needed, and infants don't always perform upon demand. Tricky! Having completed that sequence, it was into the vans and across the suburbs to another location. Two exteriors were needed, before heading indoors.

The first was an establishing shot, which looked beautiful. The second proved tougher, with dialogue, plus characters coming and going, all of which needed to be captured from different angles. Doctors doesn't have permission to shut down streets, so it can be at the mercy of passing pedestrians, planes flying overhead - and, especially, traffic. Challenging is not the word for it!

Despite all these factors, the final exterior for the day was completed before lunch. [Just as well, since a day that started beautiful turned grey after lunch with sheets of rain lashing past at times.] After a pub lunch, it was indoors for a plethora of scenes from my story of the day - and another infant actor. The wee mite was a star, but filming round a toddler is never straight forward.

I stayed till late afternoon, but had to leave before five. The cast and crew still had hours of week ahead of them, but were remaining remarkably good humoured. They made me very welcome and I managed to keep out of the way 99% of the time. Spending a day on set certainly gave me new found respect for how hard a throwaway sentence in a script can make life for those shooting your story.

So, what did I learn from my day on location with Doctors? Having one infant in your story is asking for trouble - having two is verging on sadism. It's not enough to think about your scene to scene transitions, you also need to think about transitions within each scene; how the balance of power shifts between characters, how the energy rises and falls, how to find the best endpoint.

Having been to plenty of recordings of my work, I wasn't surprised to hear my words sound very different when acted by professionals. I'd a fair idea how the regulars would say their lines, but the guest actors for my story of the day found new angles and corners I hadn't noticed in the script. Suspect I've lucked out with them. All in all, a fascinating glimpse behind the scenes for me.

The experience has left me more determined than ever to get more scripts commissioned. I've two pitches lurking in the big pile, waiting to be read, but nothing in the story bank. Need to get more proposals into the works. I've broken my duck, but now I need to prove that wasn't a fluke. One broadcast credit proves I've not a total novice, but it's credits two, three and four that show you're a professional.

Belated happy birthday for this blog

Vicious Imagery turned four on Saturday and I forgot. Too busy engaged with manual labour elsewhere - totting that barge, lifting that bale. Got the aches and strains to prove it, too. Bent over like an enfeebled question mark as a consequence. Being a writer prepares you for many things in life, but physical labour isn't one of them. Still, I should recover by the end of today.

This blog was launched as an online journal for the screenwriting MA I'd just started at Screen Academy Scotland. By happy coincidence I spent Friday night socialising with several students from my academy days. Each of us has followed a different path since completing the course. Some have abandoned screenwriting altogether, others are keeping their dream alive but mostly writing for other media.

Nobody said it would be easy [in fact, almost everybody told us how hard it would be]. Common wisdom seems to suggest it takes five to ten years to make it as a screenwriter. I can't claim anything close to having made it, but I can see signs of progress. Next Monday I'll be in Birmingham to see my first TV drama being filmed, an episode of Doctors for broadcast on BBC1 next February.

Today I've got a couple of meetings about projects [no names, no pack drill available]. Will anything come of them? I've no idea. Just as I'm terrible at taking a compliment, so I always guilty of lowering expectations whenever possible to shield myself from disappointment. But deep down inside, I dearly love these projects to happen. For now, as ever - onwards!