Apparently I got a mention in Edinburgh's Evening News paper for DANNY'S TOYS winning a first prize at the PAGE International Screenwriting Awards in Los Angeles last month. [Way to keep up with current events, Evening News!] Of course, they didn't bother tracking me down for my interview, so there's no fresh quotes from me in the article - at least, not anything I actually said to a reporter. It's not the hardest task in the world to find me, since I'm listed in the director and the PAGE awards website mentions the town where I live - where I'm the only David Bishop.
The good news is winning the first prize has gotten some attention and I've parlayed that into a few meetings. It's also gotten my work into the hands of people who wouldn't otherwise have known my name. The success of DANNY'S TOYS has persuaded a few agents to read my scripts, but whether that will lead to an offer of representation is another matter. Nevertheless, the win gives me a fresh paragraph for my writing CV and that doesn't hurt. No, I didn't get a free trip to Los Angeles or anything so exciting out of the prize - chance would be a fine thing.
I have now received my prize money. The first prize was worth a thousand American dollars, plus various gift vouchers. The organisers kindly offered to turn the gift vouchers into cash, as postage charges from Hollywood stores to my home in Scotland would have swallowed most of the vouchers' value. That topped up the thousand dollars to more than eleven hundred, which got sent to me via Paypal. Alas, the exchange rate meant my prize was only £511 when it reached me.
What am I going to spend my winnings on? Perhaps a stunning suit by Paul Smith, or a romantic weekend in Paris? Maybe a two-day course in London, or much needed memory upgrade on my groaning computer? Nothing so exciting or useful. I had an accountant's bill well overdue for payment, that consumed more than £400. And I had been in danger of falling behind on my self-employed person's National Insurance tax contributions, so that took the rest. Not exactly glamorous, but bills need paying. Some days, you've simply got to take care of some business.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Skip to the end: America gets Spaced
The gold rush by American TV producers to mine past British shows for potential hits continues with the news that a US version of beloved Channel 4 sitcom Spaced has been ordered by Fox. Variety reports former Desperate Housewives and Will & Grace scribe Adam Barr is adapting the series, with Charlie's Angels director McG attached as an executive producer. Any involvement by co-creators Jessica Stevenson, Simon Pegg [both pictured above] and Edwar Wright remains uncertain.It's no great surprise that US producers got interested in BAFTA-nominated Spaced, as it was a key stepping stone for Pegg and Wright to get their first feature mounted. Shaun of the Dead was cult hit in America, helping to amp up the budget for their next film, Hot Fuzz. Like a lot of great British sitcoms, Spaced ended after only two series, leaving the audience wanting more. But can Spaced emulate the US appeal of The Office? That also ran two series in the UK before being remade for America, growing into a bit, fat hit.
Fox is hoping Spaced can replicate that success. However, you've got to wonder how well the show's quirkier elements will survive the Atlantic crossing. Quirky British humour doesn't always travel well, as anyone who's had the misfortune to watch the US pilot of Red Dwarf can testify [shudder]. Let's hope American Spaced retains the things that made it great, and avoid become a vanilla version of itself.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Dexter: bloody, funny and bloody funny
Just finished watching the first season of Dexter on DVD, and thoroughly enjoyed it. I'd seen the first couple of episodes before and loved the premise, but hadn't quite been gripped. But watching all twelve episodes in the space of a week gave the show much more impact and momentum. It's the story of a serial killer who's been given a moral code to only kill killers. The fact is also a blood spatter forensic expert for the Miami police just adds to the fun and games. Lots of mordantly dark humour, and it pulls off The Sopranos' trick of making you root for a murdering sociopath.
There are some TV dramas that seem to work best when watched in batches, a feat most easily achieved with a DVD boxed set. They tend to be heavily serialised shows, the likes of Lost, 24, Heroes and indeed Dexter. I was finding it impossible to watch Heroes when transmitted weekly by the BBC. I was always missing episodes even with them repeated on a seemingly endless loop, something we'll be getting more of with the Beeb's money worries impacting the programming schedule. But importing the DVDs of season one from the US meant I could watch it all in clumps, slotted in around my mapcap schedule of recent weeks.
I'd never even try to watch 24 except from the boxed set, ditto Lost. Standalone procedurals like CSI can be watched as and when they appear. [Well, they could if I could get Five on my TV aerial.] There's not a lot of heavy serialisation on British TV dramas, outside soaps and other continuing dramas. When there is, the shows in question tend to have much shorter runs than their American counterparts. The stunning series Five Days earlier this year got a lot of power and resonance from its particular format, showing five different days from a missing person case that stretched over several months.
Perhaps I'm being spoiled the way DVDs make entire seasons of a show available for gorging. To get that experience, you have to wait until several months - sometimes nearly a year - after the season have finished to buy the boxed set. But that's less of an issue when you're waiting on a US series that doesn't get showcase transmission on this side of the Atlantic, as happened to the stunning Friday Night Lights. That got buried on ITV4, a channel not available to schlubs like me who only get four terrestrial stations, no cable, no digital, no satellite.
There's an analog for this situation in comics. It's known as waiting for the trade. Most new comics are published as monthly pamphlets, with 22 pages of story inside. Many stories are now published in multi-issue arcs, building up into a complete tale told over four, six or even twelve issues. Only that story is complete, it's republished as a graphic novel collection - much the same way as a complete season of Heroes, CSI or Doctor Who are collected in a DVD boxed set. [Let's not get into the annoying habit of some UK companies to split DVD collections of the most popular US TV series into two parts, the worst kind of bait and switch tease.]
The problem in comics is plenty of people have given up buying the original, monthly comics because they know it will be reprinted as a trade paperback five minutes after the last issue of the story arc sees print. As a consequence, monthly comic sales are struggling. There's certain companies who published their monthly titles at breakeven levels or even a loss, knowing sales of the trade will bring the gravy. The pamphlets are empheral, the book version can be kept in print for years. The monthly comic acts as a loss leader for the trade. [Let's not get into why original graphic novels don't work economically, that's another ball of wax.]
Now, I can't see DVD boxed sets ever replacing original broadcasts. But the surge in TV on demand and online broad[band]casting is making the original transmission less and less important. The rating for that initial broadcast are shrinking, but the overall numbers for popular shows will remain high - if they can be measured accurately. Across the Atlantic the ratings people are struggling to find the best way of measuring total viewers, bearing in mind time-shift viewers who use Tivo and other recording devices to watch a show when they want. Add online viewing and it gets even more complicated.
Anyway, I recommend Dexter if you enjoy bleak humour and a good mystery. Not just funny, not just bloody, it's bloody funny.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
Coping with rejection
Got a rejection letter the other day. The details of what it was for aren't important now, but the truth is any rejection hurts. The letter, the email, the phone-call that brings the bad news can be sugar-coated to the max, but it's still a rejection. They didn't want you, you weren't good enough, other people were better than you this time. Unfortunately, that slap to the ego is part and parcel of being a writer. Unless you're freakishly talented or lucky [or both], chances are you'll face rejection face more often than you'll achieve success. Get used to it.
It's said success breeds success, and there's some truth in that. Get one thing commissioned, get that first job, that first success and you become a better choice for others in future. But one success is no guarantee of future success. And the greater your efforts in putting yourself forward for new jobs, new opportunities, new writing gigs, the more rejections you'll face. You need a thick skin to survive. If your ego suffers terrible bruising everytime you get turned down, maybe being a writer isn't for you. How much pain can you endure in your quest for success?
There's another problem writers face: when do they say enough is enough? When do you accept that all those rejections might be telling you something? Maybe you haven't got what it takes, maybe you'll never be good enough. It's that bleak, nagging doubt that really eats at a writer's soul. Ask yourself is your latest rejection a reality check, or just a stumble on a greater journey? The best way to assess your progress is by keeping track of your successes. How you won any competitions lately? How you won any commissions? Have you improved your skillset through courses and workshops?
Still not certain? Choose the best script you've written in the past six months and get it read by other writers, idealy by working writers or professional readers. Get their honest opinion on your work. Have you got what it takes? Ultimately, if your writing is good enough, it will get noticed. Everyone is desperate to find a great new writer, a great new voice.
The truth is mostnew writers are merely mediocre. Maybe they have great ideas, but lack the skills to execute. Maybe they can produce a polished script, but its got nothing to say. Maybe they can hit all the marks remarked and achieve expectations, but they never get beyond that, never surprise, never inspire. There's a lot of great writers already out there working. They've got experience, credits and contacts. To steal their job, you must aspire to be better than the best.
A lot of wannabe writers see a rubbish TV drama and think I could do better than that. Maybe you can, but you need to do better to have any chance of success. Trying to match mediocrity is no kind of ambition. You need to aim higher than that, you need to push yourself, to stretch and challenge the abilities you have. Most of all, you've got to keep writing, keep creating new work. Writers write.
You need to keep putting your work out there, keep inviting rejection to come slap you in the face. That's the job. Don't whine about not getting the opportunities you feel you deserve. Get up off the floor and make things happen. You want to be a writer? Prove it. You want to be a professional? Act professional. Take everything that gets thrown at you and come back for more. Endure. Improve. Onwards!
It's said success breeds success, and there's some truth in that. Get one thing commissioned, get that first job, that first success and you become a better choice for others in future. But one success is no guarantee of future success. And the greater your efforts in putting yourself forward for new jobs, new opportunities, new writing gigs, the more rejections you'll face. You need a thick skin to survive. If your ego suffers terrible bruising everytime you get turned down, maybe being a writer isn't for you. How much pain can you endure in your quest for success?
There's another problem writers face: when do they say enough is enough? When do you accept that all those rejections might be telling you something? Maybe you haven't got what it takes, maybe you'll never be good enough. It's that bleak, nagging doubt that really eats at a writer's soul. Ask yourself is your latest rejection a reality check, or just a stumble on a greater journey? The best way to assess your progress is by keeping track of your successes. How you won any competitions lately? How you won any commissions? Have you improved your skillset through courses and workshops?
Still not certain? Choose the best script you've written in the past six months and get it read by other writers, idealy by working writers or professional readers. Get their honest opinion on your work. Have you got what it takes? Ultimately, if your writing is good enough, it will get noticed. Everyone is desperate to find a great new writer, a great new voice.
The truth is mostnew writers are merely mediocre. Maybe they have great ideas, but lack the skills to execute. Maybe they can produce a polished script, but its got nothing to say. Maybe they can hit all the marks remarked and achieve expectations, but they never get beyond that, never surprise, never inspire. There's a lot of great writers already out there working. They've got experience, credits and contacts. To steal their job, you must aspire to be better than the best.
A lot of wannabe writers see a rubbish TV drama and think I could do better than that. Maybe you can, but you need to do better to have any chance of success. Trying to match mediocrity is no kind of ambition. You need to aim higher than that, you need to push yourself, to stretch and challenge the abilities you have. Most of all, you've got to keep writing, keep creating new work. Writers write.
You need to keep putting your work out there, keep inviting rejection to come slap you in the face. That's the job. Don't whine about not getting the opportunities you feel you deserve. Get up off the floor and make things happen. You want to be a writer? Prove it. You want to be a professional? Act professional. Take everything that gets thrown at you and come back for more. Endure. Improve. Onwards!
Thursday, October 25, 2007
A typical day in the life
The alarm goes off at six. Ablutions, emails, breakfast - Special K with red berries and skimmed milk, multi-vitamins. Walk to the paper shop for the Guardian, and the local bakery for an iced finger roll. Walk back home, read paper, struggle with Sudoku while savouring roll with coffee. Upstairs to office, scan my bookmarked websites and blogs. Write my blog entry for the day - it's a good way to get typing, get the brain working, get my arse firmly planted in the chair.
I've a tendency to start real work for the day on the hour, actually it's more of a daft superstition. So if I've done everything else I need to do by eight [and deadlines are pressing], I'll start work at eight. If not, I'll plan my day, mooch round on the net and generally find ways to delay starting work until nine. Don't ask me why, it's not hugely productive. I like to keep office hours, if I can. When you're a freelancer working from home, it's all too easy to let your work bleed outwards. Keep office hours and it eliminates guilt when you give yourself time off.
Second coffee of the day at nine or ten in the morning, depending how things are going. Read the post, check emails, dive back into work. If I'm writing a novel, I aim to write 4000 words of first draft a day. When it's going great guns, I can get that finished by early afternoon, even before lunch some days. If I'm struggling with something about the story [usually a lack of research or patchy plotting], it'll take longer. Other jobs vary wildly. I can touch type, perhaps the best skill I ever acquired from being a journalist long, long ago.
Mid-morning snack lately is a handful of dried apricots and some hazelnuts. It's better for me than chocolate, cake or biscuits. Writing for a living doesn't tend to work many muscles, so it's easy to pile on the pounds. Lunch comes anywhere between 11.30am and 2pm, depending on how things are going. When my writing is flying, I'll not even notice I've forgotten to each lunch. But low blood sugar is not good when frustrations are high, so more Special K and skimmed milk are needed. Coffee number two or three gets made now.
After lunch can be my most productive period. I used to be mostly a morning writer, rattling stuff off so the afternoon was free for idle thoughts. Last year or two I've become an afternoon writer, wittering away the morning before cracking down to the job in hand after lunch. No easy explanations, that's just the way it's been. I like to go swimming on Tuesdays and Thursdays mid-afternoon, but the nearest pool is a 30 mile round trip that kills close to two hours from my schedule. So a late afternoon run or other exercise is required three times a week.
All such activity stops by six for cooking the evening meal, and a pause for breath. Most nights there's a rehearsal or a meeting or an event to attend. It's particularly hectic at the moment with the Biggar Little Festival in full swing. Doubt I'll get to spend a night in until Saturday, having been out every night this week, usually close to midnight. Get home, wind down and stumble into bed, knowing it'll be time to get up in five or six hours, and start the whole process again.
My dreams tend to be most vivid when I'm not in the midst of a writing project. When I'm pouring all my creative energies out on a script or novel, I sleep well. When I haven't got an active, conscious outlet, my subconscious takes over and my dreams turn weird. Well, even weirder.
I've a tendency to start real work for the day on the hour, actually it's more of a daft superstition. So if I've done everything else I need to do by eight [and deadlines are pressing], I'll start work at eight. If not, I'll plan my day, mooch round on the net and generally find ways to delay starting work until nine. Don't ask me why, it's not hugely productive. I like to keep office hours, if I can. When you're a freelancer working from home, it's all too easy to let your work bleed outwards. Keep office hours and it eliminates guilt when you give yourself time off.
Second coffee of the day at nine or ten in the morning, depending how things are going. Read the post, check emails, dive back into work. If I'm writing a novel, I aim to write 4000 words of first draft a day. When it's going great guns, I can get that finished by early afternoon, even before lunch some days. If I'm struggling with something about the story [usually a lack of research or patchy plotting], it'll take longer. Other jobs vary wildly. I can touch type, perhaps the best skill I ever acquired from being a journalist long, long ago.
Mid-morning snack lately is a handful of dried apricots and some hazelnuts. It's better for me than chocolate, cake or biscuits. Writing for a living doesn't tend to work many muscles, so it's easy to pile on the pounds. Lunch comes anywhere between 11.30am and 2pm, depending on how things are going. When my writing is flying, I'll not even notice I've forgotten to each lunch. But low blood sugar is not good when frustrations are high, so more Special K and skimmed milk are needed. Coffee number two or three gets made now.
After lunch can be my most productive period. I used to be mostly a morning writer, rattling stuff off so the afternoon was free for idle thoughts. Last year or two I've become an afternoon writer, wittering away the morning before cracking down to the job in hand after lunch. No easy explanations, that's just the way it's been. I like to go swimming on Tuesdays and Thursdays mid-afternoon, but the nearest pool is a 30 mile round trip that kills close to two hours from my schedule. So a late afternoon run or other exercise is required three times a week.
All such activity stops by six for cooking the evening meal, and a pause for breath. Most nights there's a rehearsal or a meeting or an event to attend. It's particularly hectic at the moment with the Biggar Little Festival in full swing. Doubt I'll get to spend a night in until Saturday, having been out every night this week, usually close to midnight. Get home, wind down and stumble into bed, knowing it'll be time to get up in five or six hours, and start the whole process again.
My dreams tend to be most vivid when I'm not in the midst of a writing project. When I'm pouring all my creative energies out on a script or novel, I sleep well. When I haven't got an active, conscious outlet, my subconscious takes over and my dreams turn weird. Well, even weirder.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Jack Frost nipping at your toes
It's a bit burra-hobbit outside this morning. Knew what was coming when I saw a gritter truck sweep past last night on the way home from attending an event in the Biggar Little Festival [organ recital and choral selections, since you ask - very good it was, too]. Sure enough, this morning brings a frost, a little ice scraping off the car windows and the need to wear gloves outside. But it's not a hard frost and it'll be some time yet before snow returns.
Me, I love snow. Having grown up in Auckland, New Zealand, I didn't touch snow until I was 20. It doesn't snow in Auckland and only wealthy families ever went skiing. We were many things, but wealthy wasn't one of them. When I did finally get to touch snow, I was amazed to discover it was cold [who knew?] and quite hard once it had lain for a while underfoot. Somehow, I expected snow to be soft and fluffy, like cotton wool. Guess I'd bought into the fantasy, not the reality, of snow.
The cold in the air is making it feel a tiny bit like Christmas. The annual extravaganza of eating, drinking and excessive expenditure is still two months ago, but freelancers need to plan ahead for the festive season. For a start, if we want to buy our family and friends nice Christmas, we have do extra work now in the hope we'll be paid in time for shopping expeditions - or in time for the headache of January's credit card bill.
Worse still is the reality that a lot of creative industries shut down for at least half of December and most of January. People may be in and out of the office, but no meaningful commissioning takes places for between four and seven weeks during this period. So you need to line up some work to do during this period, or face having no money come in during January, February, even into March. Jumpstarting a career deep frozen by Christmas is tougher than thawing any turkey.
Plenty to do between now and December 25th: a novel to write, a book to sub-edit, several comics scripts to write, agents to chase for representation and various other kinds of excitement. Onwards!
Me, I love snow. Having grown up in Auckland, New Zealand, I didn't touch snow until I was 20. It doesn't snow in Auckland and only wealthy families ever went skiing. We were many things, but wealthy wasn't one of them. When I did finally get to touch snow, I was amazed to discover it was cold [who knew?] and quite hard once it had lain for a while underfoot. Somehow, I expected snow to be soft and fluffy, like cotton wool. Guess I'd bought into the fantasy, not the reality, of snow.
The cold in the air is making it feel a tiny bit like Christmas. The annual extravaganza of eating, drinking and excessive expenditure is still two months ago, but freelancers need to plan ahead for the festive season. For a start, if we want to buy our family and friends nice Christmas, we have do extra work now in the hope we'll be paid in time for shopping expeditions - or in time for the headache of January's credit card bill.
Worse still is the reality that a lot of creative industries shut down for at least half of December and most of January. People may be in and out of the office, but no meaningful commissioning takes places for between four and seven weeks during this period. So you need to line up some work to do during this period, or face having no money come in during January, February, even into March. Jumpstarting a career deep frozen by Christmas is tougher than thawing any turkey.
Plenty to do between now and December 25th: a novel to write, a book to sub-edit, several comics scripts to write, agents to chase for representation and various other kinds of excitement. Onwards!
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
No Viva to be found in Laughlin
The US version of quirky BBC series Viva Blackpool has died a quick and painful death, despite the presence of movie star Hugh Jackman in the pilot. CBS axed Viva Laughlin after just two episodes, making it the first scripted casualty of the new American TV season. Jackman helped exec-produce the show, adapting the singing and dancing drama, but CBS was never the right home for this off-kilter tale. CBS is trying to branch out and expand its aging audience, an audience that loves procedurals like CSI. Viva Laughlin was even given the plumb post-CSI slot last Thursday, but after fumbling that opportunity and dying on its arse for a second episode at the weekend, the end was well and truly nigh for the series.
Last time anybody tried to launch a show with unlikly characters bursting into song, it was just as spectacular a failure. The legendary Cop Rock by Hill St Blues creator Steven Bochco got a few more episodes on the air, but that's more a symptom of how unforgiving US networks have become to low rating shows. Had the critics loved Viva Laughlin, it might have been given more of a chance.
For example, Friday Night Lights got a whole season last year and renewal thanks to critical raves, despite low ratings. But Viva Laughlin had the stench of death about it weeks before launching. Entertainment Weekly even urged people to record the car crash as it happened, for future savouring. That's never a good sign.
Bets are now being taken to see what drama is next for the chop. Most of the new genre shows like Chuck and Journeyman are holding their own, but Bionic Woman has troubles and sitcom Cavemen can't be that long for this world. As with all these things, a wait and see posture answers most questions.
The trend to quick cancellation is crossing the Atlantic too, though it usually only applied to extreme examples. Legal drama The Innocence Project got pulled out of primetime last year after failing to find its audience. Any scripted series that drops towards only two million viewers on BBC1 or ITV1 now risks getting ripped from the schedule and burnt off at a later date. But rare is the British scripted series that gets dumped after only to episodes and four days.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Half a day, twice as much frazzle
Got one of those madcap days [hilarious consequences optional] where I'm trying to do half a dozen different things in half the usual time. Got to leave the house at lunchtime for an afternoon appointment in Edinburgh, so need to get everything finished for today by midday. Not sure I've got enough hours left in the day and it's not even seven in the morning yet.
Need to finish off some work for next month's issue of Death Ray, post a fistful of scripts to an agent in That Fancy London who's agreed to read some of my work, buy some lightbulbs, eat breakfast, eat lunch, have a bath and maybe a shave, and all manner of other urgencies to achieve. So not much time for blogging today.
Just worth noting what's been on the DVD player of late. Finished watching season 1 of Heroes, thanks to imported Regin 1 DVDs. That final episode sits there and coughs blood for a while, doesn't it? And if anybody was going to die between last seaon and recently started new season in America, it should have been SPOILER and not SPOILER, judging by episode 1.23.
Having finished Heroes, opted for season 1 of Dexter on Region 1 DVD. Talk about your dark, mordant sense of humour. Makes me worry how much of this serial killer comedy of manners I find funny. Ripping through that at record pace, though a succession of nights out this week preclude much more imminent progress. After that it's a choice between the final season of Deadwood and The Wire season 3. Ahh, these are the salad days [slowly being eaten away.] Always remember your soul, folks.
Need to finish off some work for next month's issue of Death Ray, post a fistful of scripts to an agent in That Fancy London who's agreed to read some of my work, buy some lightbulbs, eat breakfast, eat lunch, have a bath and maybe a shave, and all manner of other urgencies to achieve. So not much time for blogging today.
Just worth noting what's been on the DVD player of late. Finished watching season 1 of Heroes, thanks to imported Regin 1 DVDs. That final episode sits there and coughs blood for a while, doesn't it? And if anybody was going to die between last seaon and recently started new season in America, it should have been SPOILER and not SPOILER, judging by episode 1.23.
Having finished Heroes, opted for season 1 of Dexter on Region 1 DVD. Talk about your dark, mordant sense of humour. Makes me worry how much of this serial killer comedy of manners I find funny. Ripping through that at record pace, though a succession of nights out this week preclude much more imminent progress. After that it's a choice between the final season of Deadwood and The Wire season 3. Ahh, these are the salad days [slowly being eaten away.] Always remember your soul, folks.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Putting the camp back into the Caped Crusader
Some scamp has taken captions and dialogue from Frank Miller's poe-faced, grim and gritty graphic novel The Dark Knight Returns, and superimposed them over images from the camp as a row of tents 1960s Batman movie. The results? Truly odd, and hilarious. Enjoy!
Saturday, October 20, 2007
What are you doing inside?
It's Saturday. The weekend. Weather's not bad outside. It's autumn here, but at least it's not the depths of winter - yet. Get out, enjoy the day, enjoy the world. Don't sit inside staring at your computer screen, if you can avoid it. Savour the fact it's Saturday, people.
Go on. Get.
Go on. Get.
Friday, October 19, 2007
What Michael Grade thinks of Ant & Dec
The Guardian newspaper's front page lead today focuses on the latest television phone-in scandal, speculating that ITV could face fines of up to £70 for deceiving viewers. Many of the problems occured on primtetime Saturday night light entertainment shows hosted by Tyneside tykes Ant & Dec. [For readers outside the UK, Ant & Dec appeared in the film Love Actually as TV presenters hosting a kids' show on which Bill Nighy's scurrilous character plugs his Xmas single.] The two stars were reportedly given £30 million pound handcufss to stay at ITV, and they are credited are executive producers on several of the shows that ripped off viewers via phone-ins.ITV executive chairman Michael Grade has pledged zero tolerance to viewer deception, but insisted to the Guardian that Ant & Dec were not culpable for these abuses. The juice comes when Grade talks about the presenters' executive producer status, describing them as 'kind of a vanity credit in their case'. He added: 'They were more worried about their scripts and their gags than the logistics of how the phones were going to work - that's way beyond their comprehension and responsibility.'
Make of that what you will...
Biggar Little Festival kicks off
The place where I live has just gone festival crazy. For the fifth year in succession, the Biggar Little Festival is consuming the town and most everyone in it. Biggar has a population of about 2000, but over eleven days it will host 109 events in more than a dozen venues. Concerts, plays, exhibitions, talks, workshops, you name it, somebody will probably be doing it in Biggar between now and October 28th.Last night was the official launch, with a big reception followed by a late night jazz concert from touring saxophone quartet Brass Jaw. Tonight there's a staging of Willy Russell's Shirley Valentine, plus numerous other events. I'm on front of house for a programme of one-act plays at the Corn Exchange on Monday, acting as MC for a quartet of female crimewriters on Thursday night and performing in Mostly Musicals on Friday.
It's an exhausting 11 days, but also a lot of fun. Once the festival is over, we plunge headfirst into rehearsals for the festive pantomime. This year the Biggar Theatre Workshop is staging Cinderella, as written by Nicholas Pegg - and I'm directing it. Performances will run from December 11-15, and it'll probably be a sell-out like most years. That's a little daunting when you've only just cast the show, but it's good to know the franctic of coming weeks won't go unappreciated.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
It's official: a student of distinction
The Programme Board of Examiners at Napier University in Edinburgh has made its decision about the status of my post-graduate studies, and here's the result: Congratulations, you have successfully completed your programme and the board have recommended the award shown - Master of Arts with Distinction in Screenwriting. All that remains now is the graduation ceremony on November 15th [assuming I'm willing to shell out another £50 to attend]. I could graduate in absentia, but will probably attend. Let's face it, I'm not likely to do another masters, so this is a once in a lifetime thing.
So, do I feel any different? No. Having passed every module with distinction, being awarded a masters with distinction came as no surprise at all. It's nice to get the affirmation, but that's all it is. Nobody's going to pay me anymore for having a masters, at least not in the sort of jobs I currently do. Will have a masters make me any more employable as a screenwriter? Almost certainly not. It demonstrates the fact I've spent time, money and effort to get the piece of paper, but makes no obvious difference to my talent or skills as a writer. I believe the MA has made me a better writer, but the only proof of that is in my script, not in my graduating.
Was it worth the time, money and effort? That's tricky. There are other MA courses that would probably have served me better, but Screen Academy Scotland was closest to home and most convenient. I'm certainly glad I did the masters part-time over two years. The first year I was there was also the first year of the course, and it suffered all manner teething troubles. Many of these were resolved in time for the second year or during it, but most of those changes will benefit future students. It certainly wasn't cheap. I wasn't eligible for bursaries as I was deemed to be Semi-Foreign Scum®, so it cost me £3500 in fees and another £20,000 in expenses and lost earnings.
I could have invested that money elsewhere and gotten much more for it, but the course was a way of motivating myself to go for my goals, strive for my dream, climb every [metaphorical] mountain and all that shit. Without the MA, I'd never have pursued all the other opportunities I've taken in the past two years, like being mentored in TV writing for nine months by Adrian Mead, or all the networking opportunities the course afforded. I doubt I'd have been selected for the TAPS script editing course or the same organisation's continuing drama workshop. I wouldn't have gone on the Script Factory's storylining for continuing drama workshop, either.
Most of all, I wouldn't have learned all I have over the past two years, both inside and outside the course. These two years have made a massive difference to my outlook and left me with a clutch of calling card scripts I'm now using to try and secure representation. I doubt I'll learn nearly as much in the next two years as I have in the last two years - the learning curve can't stay this steep forever - but I'll keep on learning. Keep on searching for new opportunities, new openings, new ways forward. This is not the beginning of the end, it's merely the end of the beginning. There's a long way to go yet. Onwards.
So, do I feel any different? No. Having passed every module with distinction, being awarded a masters with distinction came as no surprise at all. It's nice to get the affirmation, but that's all it is. Nobody's going to pay me anymore for having a masters, at least not in the sort of jobs I currently do. Will have a masters make me any more employable as a screenwriter? Almost certainly not. It demonstrates the fact I've spent time, money and effort to get the piece of paper, but makes no obvious difference to my talent or skills as a writer. I believe the MA has made me a better writer, but the only proof of that is in my script, not in my graduating.
Was it worth the time, money and effort? That's tricky. There are other MA courses that would probably have served me better, but Screen Academy Scotland was closest to home and most convenient. I'm certainly glad I did the masters part-time over two years. The first year I was there was also the first year of the course, and it suffered all manner teething troubles. Many of these were resolved in time for the second year or during it, but most of those changes will benefit future students. It certainly wasn't cheap. I wasn't eligible for bursaries as I was deemed to be Semi-Foreign Scum®, so it cost me £3500 in fees and another £20,000 in expenses and lost earnings.
I could have invested that money elsewhere and gotten much more for it, but the course was a way of motivating myself to go for my goals, strive for my dream, climb every [metaphorical] mountain and all that shit. Without the MA, I'd never have pursued all the other opportunities I've taken in the past two years, like being mentored in TV writing for nine months by Adrian Mead, or all the networking opportunities the course afforded. I doubt I'd have been selected for the TAPS script editing course or the same organisation's continuing drama workshop. I wouldn't have gone on the Script Factory's storylining for continuing drama workshop, either.
Most of all, I wouldn't have learned all I have over the past two years, both inside and outside the course. These two years have made a massive difference to my outlook and left me with a clutch of calling card scripts I'm now using to try and secure representation. I doubt I'll learn nearly as much in the next two years as I have in the last two years - the learning curve can't stay this steep forever - but I'll keep on learning. Keep on searching for new opportunities, new openings, new ways forward. This is not the beginning of the end, it's merely the end of the beginning. There's a long way to go yet. Onwards.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
American TV gets imperfectly Frank
There's a long and glorious tradition of British TV shows being adapted for US networks. For example, the East End rantings of Alf Garnet begat Archie Bunker, star of the hit series All in the Family. Some American incarnations have ended up running far longer than their UK progenitors, such as Queer as Folk and The Office. And there's more on the way, with Ally McBeal creator David E. Kelley developing a US version of acclaimed hit series Life on Mars.
Recently there's been a flood of gameshows and light entertainment hits developed in the UK attracting big ratings in the US, such as Dancing With the Stars [Strictly Come Dancing in Britain]. Not all Atlantic crossing are successful, of course. Coupling died a death in the US, while new American versions of Wild at Heart and Viva Blackpool are struggling across the pond - but the trend continues.
Now Fox has announced a stunning new acquisition. It is developing a new sitcom based on one of Britain's most popular shows of the 1970s, a comedy that gets repeated to this day on the BBC and still attracts audiences. A show that launch a thousand feeble imitations, a clutch of catchphrases and rocketed its star to a level of notoriety he probably never thought possible. What could possibly be the next great British export to American television?
Here's the unlikely answer: Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em. Yes, bumbling Frank Spencer is on the development fast track, according to today's issue of entertainment trade paper Variety. Judging by the terms of the deal, it's more than likely the show will get picked up for series and broadcast in the US sometime during 2008 [strikes permitting].
An unlikely choice? Well, there's some slightly George W. Bush about Frank Spencer. He's a loving family man, a devouted Christian and he aspires to success. The fact he's also likely to blunder into situations beyond his ability to cope, without first thinking of a plan or an exit strategy - well, that's probably just coincidence.
Anyway, watch out for Frank Spencer on American TV next fall. Will berets suddenly come back into fashion? Is the trench coat about to undergo a renaissance? How long before the people across the pond learn to say, 'Ooohhh, Betty'?
Recently there's been a flood of gameshows and light entertainment hits developed in the UK attracting big ratings in the US, such as Dancing With the Stars [Strictly Come Dancing in Britain]. Not all Atlantic crossing are successful, of course. Coupling died a death in the US, while new American versions of Wild at Heart and Viva Blackpool are struggling across the pond - but the trend continues.
Now Fox has announced a stunning new acquisition. It is developing a new sitcom based on one of Britain's most popular shows of the 1970s, a comedy that gets repeated to this day on the BBC and still attracts audiences. A show that launch a thousand feeble imitations, a clutch of catchphrases and rocketed its star to a level of notoriety he probably never thought possible. What could possibly be the next great British export to American television?
Here's the unlikely answer: Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em. Yes, bumbling Frank Spencer is on the development fast track, according to today's issue of entertainment trade paper Variety. Judging by the terms of the deal, it's more than likely the show will get picked up for series and broadcast in the US sometime during 2008 [strikes permitting]. An unlikely choice? Well, there's some slightly George W. Bush about Frank Spencer. He's a loving family man, a devouted Christian and he aspires to success. The fact he's also likely to blunder into situations beyond his ability to cope, without first thinking of a plan or an exit strategy - well, that's probably just coincidence.
Anyway, watch out for Frank Spencer on American TV next fall. Will berets suddenly come back into fashion? Is the trench coat about to undergo a renaissance? How long before the people across the pond learn to say, 'Ooohhh, Betty'?
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
More rattle and hum than torch and twang
Fact: by 1917, there were more vibrators than toasters in American homes. Find out more about the history of a girl's best friend with this article at Slate magazine. As Mr Spock would say, 'Fascinating!'
How to get over a blue Monday
Got myself down in the dumps yesterday. Fortunately, I had access to the perfect antidote: a friend who's also a writer. Whenever one of us gets in a rut, they'll call the other for a reality check. We talk more often than that, but it's important to have like-minded people you can vent at who won't judge you, who understand how the long, dark afternoon tea-time of the soul feels like. They give you a sense of perspective, the chance to step outside your circumstances and see your current troubles for what they really are: a momentary lapse of hope, a dip in the emotional rollercoaster of the writer's life.
Now that my screenwriting MA is done and dusted, I'm going to need a substitute network of writers to take the place of my fellow students. Not that I'm hereby dumping all the mates and colleagues I aquired at college, but we won't be seeing each other on a regular basis anymore. Inevitably, there will be a slow drifting apart. In six months time it will be six months since I've seen many of the people I got to know on the course; that's just the reality of the situation. But I'm hopeful some of them will stick around in my life.
When a blue Monday gets the better of you, another good response is taking positive action. Feel like you're in a funk [and I don't mean a groovy, James Brown style funk, more the I feel depressed and I want to listen to complaint rock kind of funk]? Then do something about it. Feel like you're spending all your time waiting on other people to make decisions or take action? You probably are, but it doesn't have to be that way. Take control of your future. Force the issue, make things happen.
I kind of knew yesterday was going to be a wash work-wise, it just had that feeling about it. So I identified ten agencies, made a few phone calls and then composed an enquiry letter. Add ten up-to-date CVs, ten SAEs and off down the post office for a mailshot. What else? Phoned a couple of screen agencies, making contacts and chasing opportunities as a script reader. Built a plan of action for the rest of the working week. Even applied for a part-time job in TV, though it would mean commuting and travel and such-like, but it's definitely something I'm qualified to do.
The MA course is over. Now comes the hard part: turning that learning, that knowledge into paying work. It's said getting that first job in TV is also the hardest job to get, and I can believe that. [Actually, I suspect the second job is probably just as problematic, but at least you'll have experience on your side by then.] In the meantime, it's all about keeping the faith, keeping going. Keep making contacts, keep securing meetings, keep up the momentum. You've got to take responsibility for your own writing, your own career. Keep the faith.
Now that my screenwriting MA is done and dusted, I'm going to need a substitute network of writers to take the place of my fellow students. Not that I'm hereby dumping all the mates and colleagues I aquired at college, but we won't be seeing each other on a regular basis anymore. Inevitably, there will be a slow drifting apart. In six months time it will be six months since I've seen many of the people I got to know on the course; that's just the reality of the situation. But I'm hopeful some of them will stick around in my life.
When a blue Monday gets the better of you, another good response is taking positive action. Feel like you're in a funk [and I don't mean a groovy, James Brown style funk, more the I feel depressed and I want to listen to complaint rock kind of funk]? Then do something about it. Feel like you're spending all your time waiting on other people to make decisions or take action? You probably are, but it doesn't have to be that way. Take control of your future. Force the issue, make things happen.
I kind of knew yesterday was going to be a wash work-wise, it just had that feeling about it. So I identified ten agencies, made a few phone calls and then composed an enquiry letter. Add ten up-to-date CVs, ten SAEs and off down the post office for a mailshot. What else? Phoned a couple of screen agencies, making contacts and chasing opportunities as a script reader. Built a plan of action for the rest of the working week. Even applied for a part-time job in TV, though it would mean commuting and travel and such-like, but it's definitely something I'm qualified to do.
The MA course is over. Now comes the hard part: turning that learning, that knowledge into paying work. It's said getting that first job in TV is also the hardest job to get, and I can believe that. [Actually, I suspect the second job is probably just as problematic, but at least you'll have experience on your side by then.] In the meantime, it's all about keeping the faith, keeping going. Keep making contacts, keep securing meetings, keep up the momentum. You've got to take responsibility for your own writing, your own career. Keep the faith.
Monday, October 15, 2007
BBC Scotland: the axeman cometh?
There's a report on the mediaguardian website speculating that BBC Scotland could be among the services to bear the brunt of swingeing budget cuts. [You'll need to be registered to read it, but registration is free and well worth the effort.] The article suggests BBC websites, TV news programme editors and BBC Scotland are the areas most likely to suffer as a consequence of the corporation getting a smaller than expected licence fee settlement from the Government.
The BBC is facing a £2 billion funding gap and director general Mark Thompson is due on Wednesday to present his plan for overcoming that to the corporation's leadership, the BBC Trust. According to mediaguardian, both BBC Scotland and BBC Wales could be hit by the cuts. This seems ironic, since the corporation is making an effort to devolve more programme-making to its nations and regions department. But the article also suggests the cuts to Scotland and Wales are not sitting well with some inside the BBC Trust, and could be water down.
I guess everyone at BBC Scotland should be grateful they've already moved into their new headquarters at Pacific Quay in Glasgow, otherwise they'd have been stuck at Queen Margaret Drive for another ten or twenty years, the way things are going. But how many people will be left inside Pacific Quay if this reported round of cuts takes effect? You can be certain this will be grist to the mill for the new SNP minority government here in Scotland, and its claims the BBC is a London-centric organisation. Should make for an interesting row in the coming days.
The BBC is facing a £2 billion funding gap and director general Mark Thompson is due on Wednesday to present his plan for overcoming that to the corporation's leadership, the BBC Trust. According to mediaguardian, both BBC Scotland and BBC Wales could be hit by the cuts. This seems ironic, since the corporation is making an effort to devolve more programme-making to its nations and regions department. But the article also suggests the cuts to Scotland and Wales are not sitting well with some inside the BBC Trust, and could be water down.
I guess everyone at BBC Scotland should be grateful they've already moved into their new headquarters at Pacific Quay in Glasgow, otherwise they'd have been stuck at Queen Margaret Drive for another ten or twenty years, the way things are going. But how many people will be left inside Pacific Quay if this reported round of cuts takes effect? You can be certain this will be grist to the mill for the new SNP minority government here in Scotland, and its claims the BBC is a London-centric organisation. Should make for an interesting row in the coming days.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Forthcoming Attractions and Actions
Now I now longer have to think about the TAPS continuing drama workshop, it's time to concentrate on some paying work. Got several deadlines for the week ahead. Two pieces of journalism for Death Ray magazine, an interview feature to wrap up for the Judge Dredd Megazine and a script to write for Egmont Sweden's Fantomen [once the synopsis gets approval from the editorial team]. Not sure I'll squeeze all of those into the working week, as most of Wednesday will get eaten up by a meeting with an independent production company. It's not project-specific, more of a meet and greet thing. Do they want to work with me? Do our sensibilities match?
Got my 19th novel lurking in the subconscious, waiting to be unleashed. Writing a novel takes a long time, if only because of all the typing involved. Please you need to be constantly thinking, juggling story threads, keeping all those character developments fresh in your mind. I prefer to write a novel as a solid block, excluding all other creative work. Sometimes I take a break halfway through to fulfil a deadline or two. This can be useful, as it gives a chance to review progress so far, pick any story threads that have been forgotten. But stopping the machine means you spend several days reclaiming the momentum you previously possessed.
Contemplating a few competitions and opportunities, several of which have imminent deadlines. ScriptapaloozaTV has its final deadline for entries tomorrow. You can submit spec scripts for exisiting US dramas or comedies, or original pilots for a drama or comedy of your own devising. I've got a couple of original pilots I could submit, but both are British in setting and style so I'm not sure there's much value in entering either of them. The Berlinale Talent Campus closes for applications tomorrow. That's much more about features, which is not where my priorities tend, but I'm still tempted as it's a great experience according to someone who went this year.
Last but not least, it's about time I made a concerted effort to secure representation. I've had a couple of attempts without getting anywhere, but it's not the sort of thing that can be done piecemeal. So it's time to choose ten agencies, and fire off an introductory letters asking if they want to read my material. Having won an award for my short film script DANNY'S TOYS looks good on a CV, but is a little misleading as I want to write for TV drama. Still, anything that gets me positive recognition is better than nothing. If anybody's got agent experiences they'd like to share, feel free to leave a comment. Right now, I need all the advice and expertise I can get.
Got my 19th novel lurking in the subconscious, waiting to be unleashed. Writing a novel takes a long time, if only because of all the typing involved. Please you need to be constantly thinking, juggling story threads, keeping all those character developments fresh in your mind. I prefer to write a novel as a solid block, excluding all other creative work. Sometimes I take a break halfway through to fulfil a deadline or two. This can be useful, as it gives a chance to review progress so far, pick any story threads that have been forgotten. But stopping the machine means you spend several days reclaiming the momentum you previously possessed.
Contemplating a few competitions and opportunities, several of which have imminent deadlines. ScriptapaloozaTV has its final deadline for entries tomorrow. You can submit spec scripts for exisiting US dramas or comedies, or original pilots for a drama or comedy of your own devising. I've got a couple of original pilots I could submit, but both are British in setting and style so I'm not sure there's much value in entering either of them. The Berlinale Talent Campus closes for applications tomorrow. That's much more about features, which is not where my priorities tend, but I'm still tempted as it's a great experience according to someone who went this year.
Last but not least, it's about time I made a concerted effort to secure representation. I've had a couple of attempts without getting anywhere, but it's not the sort of thing that can be done piecemeal. So it's time to choose ten agencies, and fire off an introductory letters asking if they want to read my material. Having won an award for my short film script DANNY'S TOYS looks good on a CV, but is a little misleading as I want to write for TV drama. Still, anything that gets me positive recognition is better than nothing. If anybody's got agent experiences they'd like to share, feel free to leave a comment. Right now, I need all the advice and expertise I can get.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Everybody get knocked down
Didn't make the next round of TAPS' continuing drama showcase. From the twenty-five people who attended the workshop in Cardiff last month, ten had their scripts chosen fur further development. Alas, I wasn't among the ten. But I already knew that long before the bad news arrived at the inbox. Those selected heard on Thursday, prompting a flurry of emails between people who were at the workshop, so it was obvious which way the land was laying. A hearty congratulations to Frances, Lucy, Simon and the other seven through to the next round. I've got my fingers crossed for you.
I suspected I wouldn't make the next round with my script, despite the fact it reduced one of my feedback readers to tears [in a positive way!]. For a start, I fudged one of the settings. You're meant to choose up to three interiors from among six standing sets at the Emmerdale productions offices. I only needed two sets, but one of mine - a dentist's waiting room - wasn't among the suggested Emmerdale sets. It would have meant redressing a set, so that a strike against it.
My verbal pitch at the workshop didn't go down well with the panel, and another writer also pitched a hostage drama at the workshop. So there were two of us writing variants on the same story - probably another strike. Finally, mine script involved a knife, fake blood and two physical tussles, complex elements for a 23-minute production that needs to be shot in just a few hours. You're talking dangerous props, special effects for the blood, probably a fight choreographer for the two tussles - all things that would have made my scripts a less attractive prospect.
Nevertheless, I enjoyed the TAPS experienece, even if I didn't get the outcome I wanted. Crucially, it pushed me into writing a 23-minute script for a story I'd been kicking round in my head for months, maybe years. There's nothing like a deadline to get me motivated, especially for what's essentially speculative work. Plus I got two pages of notes and feedback from a professional script editor on places where I need to do further development work. So I'll be continuing with Hopes and Fears, and after a few more drafts plan on adding it to my portfolio of calling card scripts. I didn't make the next round, but I've gotten a lot of positives out of the experience. Next!
I suspected I wouldn't make the next round with my script, despite the fact it reduced one of my feedback readers to tears [in a positive way!]. For a start, I fudged one of the settings. You're meant to choose up to three interiors from among six standing sets at the Emmerdale productions offices. I only needed two sets, but one of mine - a dentist's waiting room - wasn't among the suggested Emmerdale sets. It would have meant redressing a set, so that a strike against it.
My verbal pitch at the workshop didn't go down well with the panel, and another writer also pitched a hostage drama at the workshop. So there were two of us writing variants on the same story - probably another strike. Finally, mine script involved a knife, fake blood and two physical tussles, complex elements for a 23-minute production that needs to be shot in just a few hours. You're talking dangerous props, special effects for the blood, probably a fight choreographer for the two tussles - all things that would have made my scripts a less attractive prospect.
Nevertheless, I enjoyed the TAPS experienece, even if I didn't get the outcome I wanted. Crucially, it pushed me into writing a 23-minute script for a story I'd been kicking round in my head for months, maybe years. There's nothing like a deadline to get me motivated, especially for what's essentially speculative work. Plus I got two pages of notes and feedback from a professional script editor on places where I need to do further development work. So I'll be continuing with Hopes and Fears, and after a few more drafts plan on adding it to my portfolio of calling card scripts. I didn't make the next round, but I've gotten a lot of positives out of the experience. Next!
Friday, October 12, 2007
Which comes first? Your life, or your career?
There's a fascinating roundtable discussion on the Salon website where ten female filmmakers working in Hollywood talk about the state of the art, and the place of women within it. A lot of the talk revolves around life choices, such as deciding which comes first - your career or your relationships? What's more important, your films or your family? That's something everybody wanting to have a career has to decide, but it's particularly apposite if you're aiming to be a filmmaker or screenwriter, or any kind of freelance creative. Where do you draw the line between home and work?
You've got to admire her, erm, presence
Witness the wonder of Stacy Hedger - Miss Douglas in some kind of pagent - as she performs the theme tune to Star Wars on a trumpet. I mean, it sounds more like she's playing on a comb, but she's certainly got a rare and unique talent...
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Getting back in the director's chair
It's nearly 18 months since I directed a show at the local am-dram group. Back in May 2006 we staged the musical Sweet Charity, following four months of acting, singing and dancing rehearsals. After that I took myself off the directing rotation, to allow more time for my many writing endeavours. I acted a supporting role in the autumn production of Major Barbara, but restricted myself to stage managing the pantomime and stayed right out of this year's spring show, The Rivals. For the last two months I've been involved with a production of Jake's Women by Neil Simon, but only as an actor.
Having finished my MA course, I've got a little more room in my head for pursuing extra-curricular activities. So I'm directing the pantomime again this autumn, my fourth time at the helm in six years. Pantomimes are a lot of fun, but also a lot of work. They're put together in record time, with usually only six or seven weeks for rehearsals before hitting the stage for five consecutive nights of performances. There's singing, dancing and plenty of slapstick.
Happily, the occasional rough corners only add to the charm of the show. If something goes wrong in a dramatic play or a musical, it can derail the whole production. If something goes awry in a pantomime, it often makes the show funnier. Wigs that fly off, prop sausages that prove all but inedible, characters corpsing - it's all part of the frivolity. So long as everyone keeps going and there's enough people on stage who know what they're doing, the show carries on.
After so long away from directing, I'm looking forward to taking charge again. My natural tendency is to lead from the front, and I've never been backwards in coming forwards. The joys of being a screaming extrovert, I suppose. Tonight's our first rehearsal, but then we take a two week break while the Biggar Little Festival occupies the town. Something like a hundred events in nine days, not bad for a town of 2000 people. Once that's over, it'll be November and panto rehearsals can begin in earnest. It'll be a helter skelter rush, but we'll get it done. Somehow!
Having finished my MA course, I've got a little more room in my head for pursuing extra-curricular activities. So I'm directing the pantomime again this autumn, my fourth time at the helm in six years. Pantomimes are a lot of fun, but also a lot of work. They're put together in record time, with usually only six or seven weeks for rehearsals before hitting the stage for five consecutive nights of performances. There's singing, dancing and plenty of slapstick.
Happily, the occasional rough corners only add to the charm of the show. If something goes wrong in a dramatic play or a musical, it can derail the whole production. If something goes awry in a pantomime, it often makes the show funnier. Wigs that fly off, prop sausages that prove all but inedible, characters corpsing - it's all part of the frivolity. So long as everyone keeps going and there's enough people on stage who know what they're doing, the show carries on.
After so long away from directing, I'm looking forward to taking charge again. My natural tendency is to lead from the front, and I've never been backwards in coming forwards. The joys of being a screaming extrovert, I suppose. Tonight's our first rehearsal, but then we take a two week break while the Biggar Little Festival occupies the town. Something like a hundred events in nine days, not bad for a town of 2000 people. Once that's over, it'll be November and panto rehearsals can begin in earnest. It'll be a helter skelter rush, but we'll get it done. Somehow!
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Got the grade for my final MA project
Got the last grade of my MA screenwriting course yesterday, for my final project. Had my fingers crossed for a good result, after a strong run of grades throughout the course at Screen Academy Scotland. I won't know my overall result for another week or so, but I've now got a good idea what it will be. Hard to believe it's been two years since I started this adventure, and now I'm now longer a part-time student. I've learned a lot since September 2005, both through the course and the many, many other opportunities I've pursued outside the MA.
Back in the first trimester of year 1 I grappled with the Business of Screen Project Development, eventually scratching out a D1, the lowest level of distinction available but still a pass with distinction for the module. I was much happier on the Writing and Screen Project Development module, something reflected in my solid D3 grade.
Trimester two of year 1 brought the first writing module for part-time students, Script Development 1a. I made the mistake of adapting for the screen a play I was also writing at the same time for BBC Radio. The results were a mixed bag and another D1 grade. Alongside this was the Writing for Interactive Entertainment module, which was not much of a stretch for me, securing a D2.
The part-timers got the next trimester off, returning for the first trimester of year 1. From Script to Screen introduced us to a more academic analysis of screenwriting. I did enough to get a D2. That proved to be same grade I got for Script Development 2a, the module that begat my prize-winning script for Danny's Toys.
Trimester two of year 2 terrorised plenty of students as they struggled with the academic strictures of the Research Methods module. This was the module for which I attended the least classes and yet it brought me a D3. By comparison, Script Development 2b was a disaster as I abandoned my planned final project and did just enough to scrape another D1.
Now, finally, I've gotten the grade for my last module, the Major Project. I created, developed and wrote the pilot and series bible for a continuing TV drama called Families At War. Very soapy, as much melodrama as drama in places, but a well constructed and executed piece of work. The characters need deepening, the dialogue needs a good few polishes, but it was enough to get me a D2.
In summary: three D1s, four D2s and two D3s. Overall I averaged about a D2, got a distinction for every single module and have achieved my goal of attaining a Masters in screenwriting. I guess it'll be with honours or distinction or whatever they call it, but I'll definitely be getting a piece of paper with my name on it. The challenge now is what I do with the knowledge, experience and craft skills I've gained on the course. The way I see it, this is just the end of the beginning - there's a long way to go before I can legitimately call myself any kind of screenwriter.
Back in the first trimester of year 1 I grappled with the Business of Screen Project Development, eventually scratching out a D1, the lowest level of distinction available but still a pass with distinction for the module. I was much happier on the Writing and Screen Project Development module, something reflected in my solid D3 grade.
Trimester two of year 1 brought the first writing module for part-time students, Script Development 1a. I made the mistake of adapting for the screen a play I was also writing at the same time for BBC Radio. The results were a mixed bag and another D1 grade. Alongside this was the Writing for Interactive Entertainment module, which was not much of a stretch for me, securing a D2.
The part-timers got the next trimester off, returning for the first trimester of year 1. From Script to Screen introduced us to a more academic analysis of screenwriting. I did enough to get a D2. That proved to be same grade I got for Script Development 2a, the module that begat my prize-winning script for Danny's Toys.
Trimester two of year 2 terrorised plenty of students as they struggled with the academic strictures of the Research Methods module. This was the module for which I attended the least classes and yet it brought me a D3. By comparison, Script Development 2b was a disaster as I abandoned my planned final project and did just enough to scrape another D1.
Now, finally, I've gotten the grade for my last module, the Major Project. I created, developed and wrote the pilot and series bible for a continuing TV drama called Families At War. Very soapy, as much melodrama as drama in places, but a well constructed and executed piece of work. The characters need deepening, the dialogue needs a good few polishes, but it was enough to get me a D2.
In summary: three D1s, four D2s and two D3s. Overall I averaged about a D2, got a distinction for every single module and have achieved my goal of attaining a Masters in screenwriting. I guess it'll be with honours or distinction or whatever they call it, but I'll definitely be getting a piece of paper with my name on it. The challenge now is what I do with the knowledge, experience and craft skills I've gained on the course. The way I see it, this is just the end of the beginning - there's a long way to go before I can legitimately call myself any kind of screenwriter.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
It's too darn wet: some gradual musings
Hosing down rain outside, leaves tumbling from the trees, overcast and gloomy weather - yes, folks, it's autumn! After blazing sunshine at the weekend, the creeping advance of winter is making its presence felt. The temperature's been creeping downwards of late, and I've already switched from Converse All-Stars to Caterpillar boots for casual footwear. [What? You thought I wore my black winklepickers every day? Please! Those are for business, not pleasure.] Warm feet enhance happiness, you know.
Off to Glasgow tonight for the launch of PILOT, a new scheme for drama screenwriters to have their work produced and screened on Channel 4. Getting in and out of the city is a hassle, as it can easily become a three or four hour round trip for what will probably be a thirty minute presentation, followed by mingling. But that's the downside of needing to network - sometimes you have to go a long way just for the opportunity to kiss a frog or two. Such is life.
Get a nice piece of news yesterday that helped elevate from mood from its subterranean depths, though I can't get into specifics. Today is results day for the major project on my MA screenwriting course. Sometime after eleven this morning I should know what grade my continuing drama TV pilot and series bible got. Next week all the students hear how they'd overall for the MA: incomplete, failed, passed or better. I've certainly completed, so fingers crossed.
If I get my MA, I have to decide whether to attend the graduation ceremony. It's at the Festival Theatre in central Edinburgh, and costs fifty quid to walk across a stage, shake somebody's hand and get a piece of paper. No doubt there's even more money to be extracted from proud students for hire of gowns, daft hats and grud alone knows what else. All of which will be followed by an almighty pish-up, probably at the Filmhouse bar where the Screen Academy students met last year.
I've never graduated before and doubt I'll be going back to university anytime soon, so I'll probably embrace the experience. In New Zealand you didn't get a certificate or anything when you finished high school, least not that I can remember. Went to what was then called Auckland Technical Institute [now the somewhat grander Auckland University of Technology, like that's fooling anyone] for my journalism diploma. We did get cheesy cardboard certificates for that, in a feeble ceremony as I recall, followed by drinks at the Auckland Press Club.
Having watched graduation ceremonies in endless American high school movies and TV shows, I guess it could be fun to experience the moment for myself. Plus it'll be a chance to meet the other graduates and catch up on how people are going along. I remember last year's post-graduation drinks at the Filmhouse, the graduates talking about where they hoped to be a year's time. Wonder how many have achieved their ambitions in the past twelve months? Or where I'll be in November 2008?
Off to Glasgow tonight for the launch of PILOT, a new scheme for drama screenwriters to have their work produced and screened on Channel 4. Getting in and out of the city is a hassle, as it can easily become a three or four hour round trip for what will probably be a thirty minute presentation, followed by mingling. But that's the downside of needing to network - sometimes you have to go a long way just for the opportunity to kiss a frog or two. Such is life.
Get a nice piece of news yesterday that helped elevate from mood from its subterranean depths, though I can't get into specifics. Today is results day for the major project on my MA screenwriting course. Sometime after eleven this morning I should know what grade my continuing drama TV pilot and series bible got. Next week all the students hear how they'd overall for the MA: incomplete, failed, passed or better. I've certainly completed, so fingers crossed.
If I get my MA, I have to decide whether to attend the graduation ceremony. It's at the Festival Theatre in central Edinburgh, and costs fifty quid to walk across a stage, shake somebody's hand and get a piece of paper. No doubt there's even more money to be extracted from proud students for hire of gowns, daft hats and grud alone knows what else. All of which will be followed by an almighty pish-up, probably at the Filmhouse bar where the Screen Academy students met last year.
I've never graduated before and doubt I'll be going back to university anytime soon, so I'll probably embrace the experience. In New Zealand you didn't get a certificate or anything when you finished high school, least not that I can remember. Went to what was then called Auckland Technical Institute [now the somewhat grander Auckland University of Technology, like that's fooling anyone] for my journalism diploma. We did get cheesy cardboard certificates for that, in a feeble ceremony as I recall, followed by drinks at the Auckland Press Club.
Having watched graduation ceremonies in endless American high school movies and TV shows, I guess it could be fun to experience the moment for myself. Plus it'll be a chance to meet the other graduates and catch up on how people are going along. I remember last year's post-graduation drinks at the Filmhouse, the graduates talking about where they hoped to be a year's time. Wonder how many have achieved their ambitions in the past twelve months? Or where I'll be in November 2008?
Monday, October 08, 2007
Choosing what to do with the time you have
There's a lot of decisions to make in life. Where you want to live, who you're going to love [though that's more heart than head], what you're going to do - for a job, for fun, for the rest of the time you have left. Not everybody has a lot of alternatives when it comes to those choices. The options are restricted by where they are, where they come from, what gifts they possess.
Change is scary. The familiar is comforting, the warm blanket of what we know and love, what we enjoy and what makes us happy. Giving that up in the hope of finding something else just as good - or even better - is scary too. But sometimes you have to surrender what you have in search of that hope, that something else. Other times, you choose not to change. Not to give something up, not to surrender.
When change is forced upon us, that's tough too. You didn't have to make a choice, the choice was made for you by circumstance or someone else. Those can be the worst - the loss of a loved one, or a job, or the end of something you loved. You have to grieve. But you have to accept change, learn to cope with that loss. Otherwise, it'll take the feet out from under you. So I guess life is about coping.
If you're wondering why all the musings? Guess I'm still grieving for the show that's just ended, and I'm short on sleep and I'm struggling a little. Right now it's a dull ache. I know that'll pass, but getting through to the other side is a slow process. So I think I'm going back to bed and getting some sleep. Anybody feels like sharing some good news in the comments, it'd be welcome. Later for y'all.
Change is scary. The familiar is comforting, the warm blanket of what we know and love, what we enjoy and what makes us happy. Giving that up in the hope of finding something else just as good - or even better - is scary too. But sometimes you have to surrender what you have in search of that hope, that something else. Other times, you choose not to change. Not to give something up, not to surrender.
When change is forced upon us, that's tough too. You didn't have to make a choice, the choice was made for you by circumstance or someone else. Those can be the worst - the loss of a loved one, or a job, or the end of something you loved. You have to grieve. But you have to accept change, learn to cope with that loss. Otherwise, it'll take the feet out from under you. So I guess life is about coping.
If you're wondering why all the musings? Guess I'm still grieving for the show that's just ended, and I'm short on sleep and I'm struggling a little. Right now it's a dull ache. I know that'll pass, but getting through to the other side is a slow process. So I think I'm going back to bed and getting some sleep. Anybody feels like sharing some good news in the comments, it'd be welcome. Later for y'all.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Bad case of the mean reds
Well, the show's over and I'm bereft. All those rehearsals, all those hours spent learning lines, all that pain and laughter and fun - gone. I hate the day after a run ends, it's like being kicked in the gut over and over and over. Throw in the fact the All Blacks contrived to get knocked out of the Rugby World Cup, and this is one crappy morning after the night before. Oh well. Such is life.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
The secret of great comed--Timing!
Had our second performance of Jake's Women last night and it went well. Bigger audience, and more responsive than the first night. You never know when an audience is going to laugh, but you have to let them. The tricky part is riding the wave of laughter, coming in with your next line just as the laughter is dying down. You want them to hear the dialogue, but you don't want to wait so long there's an awkward pause. My comic timing's not too bad, but an audience is an organic, multi-headed beast.
The laughs always get bigger in the second half. Why? The audience has talked about the show at half-time, and given themselves permission to laugh. In Jake's Women, there's an hilarious 10-page sequence that, when played right, generates the biggest laughs of the night. [It's followed by a moving, almost tragic sequence afterwards - great contrast in the writing.] Plus the audience will have been to the bar at the interval and enjoyed a tipple. A little alcohol loosens up the funny bone.
We had all sorts of scrambles last night. Missed lines, blank moments, and one character walking off stage three pages too soon. But they all got covered or recovered and 99% of the audience would have been none the wiser. Now it's two down, one to go. We'll be going for it tonight, determined to ensure our last performance is also our best performance. Last nights are a joyous occasion, the relief of knowing the hard work is over and the fun can begin.
But there's also the crushing sadness of knowing the camaradie, the shared experiences of all those rehearsals and worries and efforts are coming to an end. That the happy band formed for this show will never be assembled again. I hate the Sunday after a last night Saturday. It's gloomy, knowing that particular joy is gone forever. Still, it's auditions for the pantomime on Monday, so there'll be a new happy band forming within a week and the whole process starts again. No doubt there's a moral to be drawn from all of this - I'll let you figure it out.
The laughs always get bigger in the second half. Why? The audience has talked about the show at half-time, and given themselves permission to laugh. In Jake's Women, there's an hilarious 10-page sequence that, when played right, generates the biggest laughs of the night. [It's followed by a moving, almost tragic sequence afterwards - great contrast in the writing.] Plus the audience will have been to the bar at the interval and enjoyed a tipple. A little alcohol loosens up the funny bone.
We had all sorts of scrambles last night. Missed lines, blank moments, and one character walking off stage three pages too soon. But they all got covered or recovered and 99% of the audience would have been none the wiser. Now it's two down, one to go. We'll be going for it tonight, determined to ensure our last performance is also our best performance. Last nights are a joyous occasion, the relief of knowing the hard work is over and the fun can begin.
But there's also the crushing sadness of knowing the camaradie, the shared experiences of all those rehearsals and worries and efforts are coming to an end. That the happy band formed for this show will never be assembled again. I hate the Sunday after a last night Saturday. It's gloomy, knowing that particular joy is gone forever. Still, it's auditions for the pantomime on Monday, so there'll be a new happy band forming within a week and the whole process starts again. No doubt there's a moral to be drawn from all of this - I'll let you figure it out.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Deadline extended for Screenwriting Lab!
Just had an update from the Scottish Book Trust. The deadline for applicants to the Screenwriting Lab has been extended by a week to Monday, October 15th. If you're interested in a FREE three-day workshop about screenwriting in Edinburgh next month, get your application in. You can find all the relevant details here, but the deadline is now October 15th, now October 8. So, no excuses!
De-cluttering my workspace and my brain
Today feels like a good die to tidy. The room where I work is a mess, so that's a good place to start. Sorting through the detritus of writing that piles up around me is a useful exercise in reordering my mind, as well. There's something soothing about an office purge, reclaiming control over all the surfaces. The results are always temporary, but the process marks a change in direction. Out with the old, in with the new. Plus it's long past time I'd backed up recent work on my computer. You never know when digital disaster may strike.
First night of the play went well, thanks for asking. Had a rocky start when somebody in the audience shouted after I'd said all of three words. That threw me completely and I spent the next ten pages getting my head back in the game. Took a prompt in that opening sequence, which was annoying but not the end of the world. Got through the second act without a prompt, despite going utterly, utterly blank once or twice. As the old stage motto suggests, just keep going and something will happen.
Am waiting on responses to a bunch of stuff. There's the 23-minute script I submitted for the TAPS continuing drama showcase. Ten writers from the 25 who attended the workshop in Cardiff last month are being selected for the second round, where they'll get feedback from a professional script editor before submitting a second draft. If memory serves, we're due to hear about that sometime next week. It'd be great to reach that stage, but what will be, will be.
Also waiting to hear back from Emmerdale's story team about the storyline document I submitted after taking part in the workshop at Leeds last week. Again, I'd love to be chosen for one of the storyliner try-outs, but that decision's out of my hands now so there's no point fretting about it. As part of our submission all the writers were asked to invent a three-beat C story for the episode they were storylining. I went bold, seeding the start of a major storyline for one of my favourite characters on Emmerdale. It'll be interested to see what the story team of it!
Last but not least, I'm waiting on marks for the major project of my screenwriting MA course at Screen Academy Scotland, not to mention my final, overall grade. I had eight distinctions for the eight 15-credit modules, it'd be nice to continue my winning streak right to the end. Still, nothing is certain in life except that it ends, so I'll just wait and see. It's the Napoleon plan, as cited in the Aaron Sorkin sitcom Sports Night: First we turn up, then we see what happens.
First night of the play went well, thanks for asking. Had a rocky start when somebody in the audience shouted after I'd said all of three words. That threw me completely and I spent the next ten pages getting my head back in the game. Took a prompt in that opening sequence, which was annoying but not the end of the world. Got through the second act without a prompt, despite going utterly, utterly blank once or twice. As the old stage motto suggests, just keep going and something will happen.
Am waiting on responses to a bunch of stuff. There's the 23-minute script I submitted for the TAPS continuing drama showcase. Ten writers from the 25 who attended the workshop in Cardiff last month are being selected for the second round, where they'll get feedback from a professional script editor before submitting a second draft. If memory serves, we're due to hear about that sometime next week. It'd be great to reach that stage, but what will be, will be.
Also waiting to hear back from Emmerdale's story team about the storyline document I submitted after taking part in the workshop at Leeds last week. Again, I'd love to be chosen for one of the storyliner try-outs, but that decision's out of my hands now so there's no point fretting about it. As part of our submission all the writers were asked to invent a three-beat C story for the episode they were storylining. I went bold, seeding the start of a major storyline for one of my favourite characters on Emmerdale. It'll be interested to see what the story team of it!
Last but not least, I'm waiting on marks for the major project of my screenwriting MA course at Screen Academy Scotland, not to mention my final, overall grade. I had eight distinctions for the eight 15-credit modules, it'd be nice to continue my winning streak right to the end. Still, nothing is certain in life except that it ends, so I'll just wait and see. It's the Napoleon plan, as cited in the Aaron Sorkin sitcom Sports Night: First we turn up, then we see what happens.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Screenwriting Lab - deadline to apply Oct. 8th
The Scottish Book Trust is running a screenwriting lab in Edinburgh from November 19-21 inclusive, led by award-winning writer and director Adrian Mead. He's a great teacher and this is a golden opportunity for anybody interested in learning more about what it takes to make it in screenwriting. Places are strictly limited, so if you want in you must submit your application by October 8th - that's next Monday! Bearing in mind the postal strikes looming over the next few days, I'd suggest applying via email. Anyway, here's the full blurb for the lab from the Scottish Book Trust website.
SCREENWRITING LAB
You are currently writing short stories, novels, poetry or plays but have you ever wondered what it takes to write for Film and TV? After the success of the Scottish Book Trust MENOTRING SCHEME and RADIO LAB, we are pleased to announce the launch of our latest course. SCREENWRITING LAB will show you exactly what it takes to break into one of the most competitive and lucrative areas of writing.
CONTENT: The Screenwriting Lab begins the moment you are selected as one of the 20 participants. You will be e-mailed a wealth of information and a recommended reading list. This is a vital part of the preparation for the three days of classes.
Just a few of the areas we will cover during the class are -
1. Developing ideas.
2. Show don't tell.- Examples of visual narrative.
3. What a director looks for in a script.
4. What you shouldn't put in your script!
5. Pitch docs, treatments, step outlines and first draft scripts.
A study of the industry and breaking in as a new writer -
1. Competitions, networking, blogging and other career building strategies .
2. Planning the financial transition from part time writer to becoming a professional.
3. Independent Production companies and broadcasters.
4. Agents.
5. Conducting yourself in meetings and pitching your work.
6. Payment.
HOW DO I APPLY FOR A PLACE ON THE SCREENWRITING LAB? In order to apply for SCREENWRITING LAB we are asking that you submit a 1-3 minute long sample script, inspired by the theme CHOICES. A panel of three will then read the scripts and select successful applicants. The selection panel consists of: screen writer and director Adrian Mead (see info below); Sophie Moxon, Head of Programming at Scottish Book Trust; and Jan Rutherford, freelance publicist and Project Manager for Writer Development at Scottish Book Trust.
SCREENWRITING TIPS: Cinema and TV demand the writer use VISUAL NARRATIVE to tell a story. As a result the maxim "show don't tell" is constantly hammered into screenwriting students. Try to keep this in mind when writing your script. Avoid long speeches where people tell us stuff (exposition). You will further develop your submission script during Screen Lab.
Screenwriting Lab will be led by award winning writer and director Adrian Mead Over a packed three days Adrian will take you through the realities of the script development process and the strategy you need to adopt in order to break into the industry. Adrian's classes attract students from the length and breadth of the UK. You can read more about Adrian and view testimonials from previous course attendees at www.meadkerr.com
TIME: 10.00 am to 5.00 pm (with coffee from 9.30am)
DATE: 19, 20 and 21st of November 2007
VENUE: Sandeman House, Trunk's Close, High Street, Edinburgh
CONTACT: Caitrin Armstrong, Programme Co-ordinator, Scottish Book Trust [0131 524 0166]. Email her here: caitrin.armstrong@scottishbooktrust.com
...while crazy people run around inside...
TV creative Will Dixon has a wonderful blog post about directors in TV, long, but well worth a read. In it he quotes another writer's description of episodic TV: filming a TV show is like building a house in a week while crazy people run around inside the construction site.
Need to perform? Just concentrate and relax
Tonight's opening night for the Neil Simon play I'm acting in, Jake's Women. It's a hundred pages long and I'm on stage for every word that's spoken. [At one point my character goes offstage for thirty seconds but, since everyone left on stage are mere projections of Jake's imagination, nobody speaks until I return.] As you might have guessed from the title I'm playing Jake. He's a New York writer troubled by the ghosts of the past, his inability to trust and some intimacy issues. The rest of the cast are all women of various ages, from various stages of his life.
It's a monster role, a huge learn and quite a feat of memory. I've been in shows before that were longer, or where the language was much harder to get across. It's the sheer scale of Jake's Women that's daunting. That, and the fact I have long passages were I talk directly to the audience. Fortunately, I'm not the sort of person who suffers much from stage fright. But with such a challenging part, there's always a certain amount of performance anxiety to overcome.
When I doubt, I always remember a wonderful piece of advice from the film Bull Durham. Written and directed by Ron Shelton, the movie is ostensibly about life behind the scenes at the minor league baseball team in the Carolinas. In truth, it's really about adult relationships, growing up, learning accept yourself and rituals. It's also about sex. Yes, I thought that might get your attention. Even if you hate sports, I still recommend Bull Durham - especially on Saturday nights.
The female lead is Annie [played by Susan Sarandon], a woman who chooses the most promising player each season and takes them to her bed. She teaches them about life and making love. She imparts a lot of wisdom, particularly about matters of the heart and other body parts. Her advice about performing in bed is equally applicable to performing on stage in a play. "It's simple, honey - just concentrate and relax." Sounds counter-intuitive but, trust me, it works.
Just concentrate and relax.
It's a monster role, a huge learn and quite a feat of memory. I've been in shows before that were longer, or where the language was much harder to get across. It's the sheer scale of Jake's Women that's daunting. That, and the fact I have long passages were I talk directly to the audience. Fortunately, I'm not the sort of person who suffers much from stage fright. But with such a challenging part, there's always a certain amount of performance anxiety to overcome.
When I doubt, I always remember a wonderful piece of advice from the film Bull Durham. Written and directed by Ron Shelton, the movie is ostensibly about life behind the scenes at the minor league baseball team in the Carolinas. In truth, it's really about adult relationships, growing up, learning accept yourself and rituals. It's also about sex. Yes, I thought that might get your attention. Even if you hate sports, I still recommend Bull Durham - especially on Saturday nights.
The female lead is Annie [played by Susan Sarandon], a woman who chooses the most promising player each season and takes them to her bed. She teaches them about life and making love. She imparts a lot of wisdom, particularly about matters of the heart and other body parts. Her advice about performing in bed is equally applicable to performing on stage in a play. "It's simple, honey - just concentrate and relax." Sounds counter-intuitive but, trust me, it works.
Just concentrate and relax.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Who put the cotton wool in my head?
If you're old enough, you'll remember when aspirin used to come in glass bottles. And inside each glass bottle, right at the top, with a wad of cotton wool. I guess they put that in there to stop the pills rattling around, getting broken in transit or somesuch. I always wondered about the person who used to put those wads of cotton wool into aspirin bottles. What was their life like? Was their job a metaphor for their life? Did they like to keep things and people safe? Or were they softly numbed to life's inequities, thanks to years of contact with aspirin. Whoever that person was, I hope they'd found gainful employment since aspirin stopped being sold in bottles.
Right now, the inside of my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton wool. Fuzzy, muddled, not hearing that well. Got a sore, dry throat, my noses keeps running and I'm taking all manner of remedies to stop my malady getting worse. Right now, I can't afford to be sick. I've no shortage of work to do, and from tomorrow night I'll be appearing in three performances of the Neil Simon play Jake's Women. That requires me to be on stage for at least two hours, remembering every word of a hundred play script and playing my part to the best of my abilities. So getting a head cold? Not on my To Do list. Feck it.
Right now, the inside of my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton wool. Fuzzy, muddled, not hearing that well. Got a sore, dry throat, my noses keeps running and I'm taking all manner of remedies to stop my malady getting worse. Right now, I can't afford to be sick. I've no shortage of work to do, and from tomorrow night I'll be appearing in three performances of the Neil Simon play Jake's Women. That requires me to be on stage for at least two hours, remembering every word of a hundred play script and playing my part to the best of my abilities. So getting a head cold? Not on my To Do list. Feck it.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
How much would you sacrifice for your career?
Spent last Friday at the Emmerdale production offices in Leeds, one of twenty people invited along for a storylining workshop. There's one, maybe two storylining positions open at the show, and a well-worn method for finding and identifying potential candidates. The workshop is the first step, six hours of talking about stories and brainstorming ideas. At the end of that we were all given an episode's worth of story beats to turn into a storyline document. That's due today.
From these written documents and our performance on the workshop day, up to half a dozen people get invited back to spent time with the story team. Let's face it, there's no shortage of people with the skills necessary to do jobs in television. The crucial question is whether anyone wants to work with you for long hours, day in, day out. Talent is an obvious requirement, but the ability to play nice and get along in a tight knit group is also important.
If I was lucky enough to be offered a job, it would create quite an upheaval. Leeds is not somewhere I could commute to on a daily basis. I'd have to travel south on Monday and come home on Friday. There might be some flexibility, but it'd mean a life divided between the working week in Leeds and life at home on the weekend. It all comes down to sacrifices, I guess. How much are you willing to give up for that vital first step on the career ladder?
It's not like I haven't up and moved before. Hell, I emigrated from New Zealand to Britain in 1990 because I could see how limited career prospects were in my home country. I walked away from my family, all my friends and came to a country where I knew one person. Ten years on, I moved to Scotland and started a new life as a professional writer. If I want to crack TV drama, it looks like more sacrifices, more change. Ask yourself this: how much would you give up to get what you want?
From these written documents and our performance on the workshop day, up to half a dozen people get invited back to spent time with the story team. Let's face it, there's no shortage of people with the skills necessary to do jobs in television. The crucial question is whether anyone wants to work with you for long hours, day in, day out. Talent is an obvious requirement, but the ability to play nice and get along in a tight knit group is also important.
If I was lucky enough to be offered a job, it would create quite an upheaval. Leeds is not somewhere I could commute to on a daily basis. I'd have to travel south on Monday and come home on Friday. There might be some flexibility, but it'd mean a life divided between the working week in Leeds and life at home on the weekend. It all comes down to sacrifices, I guess. How much are you willing to give up for that vital first step on the career ladder?
It's not like I haven't up and moved before. Hell, I emigrated from New Zealand to Britain in 1990 because I could see how limited career prospects were in my home country. I walked away from my family, all my friends and came to a country where I knew one person. Ten years on, I moved to Scotland and started a new life as a professional writer. If I want to crack TV drama, it looks like more sacrifices, more change. Ask yourself this: how much would you give up to get what you want?
Monday, October 01, 2007
Nearly stranded in Bergen
Well, that turned into a very expensive 27 hours in Norway. Got up at 5 on Saturday morning in London and trekked to Heathrow, where I took a plane to Oslo. From there I took another plane to Bergen, where the Raptus Comics Festival was held over the weekend. The organisers had booked me on flights from and back to Edinburgh, but circumstances sent me to London, so I couldn't use the first half of my ticket. Instead I paid my own way to Bergen, shelling out £200.
Yesterday I went back to Bergen airport to get my flights home, connecting via Amsterdam. But because I didn't use the first two flights on my original tickets, the return flights had been cancelled - and my seats resold. The flight from Bergen to Amsterdam was full, the flight from Amsterdam to Edinburgh was full.
Oh, shit. Alternatives? A business seat on a flight from Bergen to Newcastle costing somewhere around £1000, and the problem of how to get home from Newcastle. Or a cheaper flight to London Stansted and the problem of getting home from there. So I handed over £300 to get back to the UK, and managed to get an Easyjet flight home booked online, costing another £100. That's a grand total of £600 to spend 27 hours in Bergen, talk at three festival sessions and eat lots of Norwegian hot dogs. Yikes.
Was it worth it? Financially, no. But the festival is a lovely event, the people of Bergen delightful and friendly. Shockingly, I even walked outside without getting soaked to the skin several times. Still, there's an expensive lesson to be learned from all of this. If somebody else books discount flights for you, don't feck around with those flights. Always take the first flight of a trip, in case some FUCKING ARSEHOLE decides to cancel all the others on you.
Moving on: Ireland and Wales both got knocked out of the Rugby World Cup, Argentina are on track for the semi-finals [sorry Scotland, but you're cruising from a bruising from the South Americans], and New Zealand's All Blacks will be playing their quarter-final against France, a match many had predicted would be the final. I can only hope the All Blacks show up with their A game, and this doesn't turn into 1999 again when France were at their mercurial best.
Tomorrow I'll write about what happened last Friday.
Yesterday I went back to Bergen airport to get my flights home, connecting via Amsterdam. But because I didn't use the first two flights on my original tickets, the return flights had been cancelled - and my seats resold. The flight from Bergen to Amsterdam was full, the flight from Amsterdam to Edinburgh was full.
Oh, shit. Alternatives? A business seat on a flight from Bergen to Newcastle costing somewhere around £1000, and the problem of how to get home from Newcastle. Or a cheaper flight to London Stansted and the problem of getting home from there. So I handed over £300 to get back to the UK, and managed to get an Easyjet flight home booked online, costing another £100. That's a grand total of £600 to spend 27 hours in Bergen, talk at three festival sessions and eat lots of Norwegian hot dogs. Yikes.
Was it worth it? Financially, no. But the festival is a lovely event, the people of Bergen delightful and friendly. Shockingly, I even walked outside without getting soaked to the skin several times. Still, there's an expensive lesson to be learned from all of this. If somebody else books discount flights for you, don't feck around with those flights. Always take the first flight of a trip, in case some FUCKING ARSEHOLE decides to cancel all the others on you.
Moving on: Ireland and Wales both got knocked out of the Rugby World Cup, Argentina are on track for the semi-finals [sorry Scotland, but you're cruising from a bruising from the South Americans], and New Zealand's All Blacks will be playing their quarter-final against France, a match many had predicted would be the final. I can only hope the All Blacks show up with their A game, and this doesn't turn into 1999 again when France were at their mercurial best.
Tomorrow I'll write about what happened last Friday.
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