Danny's Toys script is a PAGE finalist

My script Danny's Toys is through to the finals of the PAGE International Screenwriting Contest, in the short film category. There are ten categories in the contest, with ten finalists in each. That means Danny's Toys has won through from the 3000+ entries to be among the top 100 scripts. Nice. The three winners in each category will be announced on September 15, along with an overall winner from among all the scripts. Me, I'm just chuffed to have made the finals, as Danny's Toys is almost the only short film script I've written.

Off to Cardiff for the TAPS Coninuing Drama workshop [Nations variant]. I'll be back Sunday night. You all know the rules by now: no teenage parties, no scrawling on the walls and play nice with the other kids. You break anything, you'll pay for it.

My final project is finished. Done. History.

Submitted the final project for my screenwriting MA this afternoon online, before driving two hard copies into Edinburgh and presenting them to the administrators at Screen Academy Scotland. Apparently mine was the second effort submitted, so good luck to the 23 people still to hand in. One last task remains, writing and submitting of self-reflexive essay of 1500-2000 words about the evolution of my project. Got a fortnight to deliver, but it's not the work of a lifetime.

Delivering a big project is always something of an anti-climax. There was no heavenly choir, no great ceremony, nobody applauds your effort. Sign here, put it there, away you go with the rest of your life. Used to feel the same back when I first started getting my novels published. Would print out my mighty tome, and get a black cab across London to hand it over. The book I'd sweated blood on would get stuck on a pile of things waiting to be read. End of story.

These days I don't even get the luxury of a cab ride to my publisher. Now you simply attach the file to an email and press send. So driving into Edinburgh made handing over my final project in hard copy a little bit like the good old days. As per my usual ritual at the end of a big project, I'll crack open a bottle of bubbly tonight and toast reaching the finishing line. May as well enjoy the moment.

Final thrash on my final project

My screenwriting MA is accelerating to a finish, with final projects due to be delivered by 5pm tomorrow - one electronic copy, two hard copies. I'll be in Cardiff by that time, participating in the TAPS continuing drama workshop [Nations variant for writers based in Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland], so have to hand in my hard copies and electronic version today. Yikes.

My final project is devised for TV, not a film script like almost every other screenwriter on the course. Most will be handing in a screenplay of between 90 and 120 pages. To meet requirements I'll be handing in a TV script of around 60 pages for a returning drama series of my own creation, along with a series bible delineating the characters, sets, and outlines for further episodes. My character outlines need tweaking, the set list is fine and my episode outlines need a polish.

The script itself isn't in too bad a shape. I still need to rewrite two early scenes, and some fixing's required on pp 42-51. I sent the first draft out for peer review [I'd say Power of 3, but I wouldn't wish to make English Dave vomit] and got some useful, broad brush feedback. Everyone had their own niggles and questions, but all stumbled a little over the sequence of events between pages 42 and 51. It helped point up something I knew wasn't quite working when I wrote the first draft, but couldn't fix at the time.

That's the value of peer review. It forces you to face the problems you've managed to skate over. How I fix those problems is up to me. The version I had in as my final project is still only an early draft. I've no doubt there's plenty more work to be done, improvements to be made, dialogue to be sharpened, even some further period research that can inform the script. Once I've got it to a point where I feel it's ready to be seen, that's when I get a professional to look at it.

I'd never presume to send a first draft out to working, professional writers for feedback. You only get to dip into that well of good will so many times, better to use it on material that's ready to be seen. People you've never met will judge you on the quality of your writing. That ink of the page is like a tattoo, representing you to the outside world. Once they've read your script, it will leave an impression that's hard to erase, much like a tattoo.

Wow them with a great script and they'll remember you for all the right reasons. Send out a half-baked, half-arsed, not ready for prime time effort and they'll dismiss you for all the right reasons. Choose your moment. Most of all, be ready for your moment when it comes. At least, that's what I believe. Your mileage may vary.

Grud, I can ramble when the mood takes me, can't I?

So today is final thrash day for my final project. There'll be afters when I get back from Cardiff; a self-reflective essay on my final project, feedback to be collected and contemplated, a mark for this last module and a gathering on September 14th with some industry notables to introduce ourselves. The slow curtain closes in November, as the class of 07 graduates. But that's all in the future. Today I need to finish what I started back in September 2005. Onwards!

I think I can, I think I can...

Feeling like the Little Engine That Could this week, battling against a slew of deadlines and somehow finding a way to meet them. Two months ago I got back from holiday to no paying work, a rapidly emptying bank account and bills. Fast forward to today and I've done a ton of work, an empty bank account and bills now more pressing than ever. Still, the money for all that effort should start appearing today and my clutch of deadlines is slowly being scratched off, one by one. Note to self: Just because you're broke, you still need to allow time for sleep.

Made a mad dash to Glasgow yesterday for a remote studio interview for a Radio 4 documentary about 2000 AD. The show's due for broadcast next month, around the same time BBC4 is screening its Comics Britannia season of programmes. Me, I can't get BBC4, so I'll have to make do with the radio show. Talked non-stop for nearly 90 minutes and felt like a used dishcloth by the end - wrung and wrinkled. Hopefully came up with some useful material for the programme makers, Somethin' Else.

Got a DVD review to write this morning, then it's back to the final project for my screenwriting MA course. That's due in on Friday, but I have to deliver tomorrow as I fly to Cardiff first thing Friday morning for the TAPS continuing drama workshop [nations variant edition]. Three days in a room with 24 other hungry writers, all eager to get their break in TV. Reminds me of a favourite line from the late, great Aaron Sorkin show Sports Night: 'Remember folks, if you're going out tonight, it's a dog eat dog world - not a doggie dog world.'

Chuck: better than I expected

I've got a mental busy three days ahead of three, followed by three more crazed days of business. Writing feature after feature, zapping to Glasgow and back for a radio interview for a documentary about the history of iconic British comic 2000 AD, got to sort out a cashflow problem with the bank [yes, regular readers, I still haven't been paid by anyone - the running tab of outstanding invoices is now up to £4000 and growing]. Got to read, revise and rewrite the final project for my screenwriting MA. Got to find time to pack before flying to Cardiff on Friday first thing for the TAPS continuing drama workshop (Nations variant). Argh. Argh. Argh.

In the meantime, I commend to you a new comedy drama series launching on US TV next month. Didn't have high expectations of Chuck, as the premise sounded flat and lifeless on the page, but the pilot's great fun. Nobel prizes for literature will not be won, but it's an enjoyable romp. My advice: watch out for Chuck. And for chuck, come to think of it. Later.

Virgin Comics Dare to be Dan [not desperate]

Variety reports that Virgin Comics has acquiring the publishing, TV, movie and computer games rights to British icon Dan Dare. The Pilot of the Future will be laughed in a new title written by former 2000 AD scribe Garth Ennis, with a feature film in development. Variety says the new four-colour thriller will have Dare emerge from exile into a post-war world where much of North America and Asia have been wiped out, leaving the UK as Earth's last superpower. A reprint compilation is planned for October to herald the new Dare comic.

Elsewhere artist Chris Weston's been working on designs for a range of Dan Dare action figures, as he's detailed on his blog. Hmm, I wonder if these two stories could be in any way related? And what sort of Dan Dare can we expect from Ennis and Virgin Comics? Grim and gritty? Bitter and twisted? Or something more akin to the Dare-in' do boys' action-adventure hero Dan was back in the 1950s?

Seriocity is all I ever need

Spent far too much time in recent days enjoying Seriocity, the blog of American TV writer Kay Reindl. Legend has it she got her start after posting some biting comments about the series Millennium online. Showrunner Chris Carter got in touch and challenged her to do better. Reindl did, and sold a script to the series. She's got other credits, including freelance episodes for The Dead Zone.

In her blog she speaks all kinds of harsh truths and opinions about the state of current pop culture [Harry Potter and Heroes both take a bashing], how hard it is to get an idea pithced, sold, turned into a pilot script and filmed, let alone picked up for series. Plus she's quite the Anglophile [and even Kiwiphile] for music, so that wins points.

I heart this particular post, which links to a site where you can download four of Reindl's pilot scripts. I've only read Town Called Malice, but this particular exchange sold it for me. It features rock chick Eliza taking her rebellious teenage daughter Nico to church for the first time. Nico gets up to take communion...

ELIZA (whispering):
What are you doing?

NICO:
Getting some body of Christ. I'm starving.

Annie Griffin: 'Passion is better'

Back in March writer-director Annie Griffin came in for a session at Screen Academy Scotland. Her talk was nominally part of the research methods module, but it wandered over numerous subjects. Rediscovered these notes while tidying my office before a long weekend of writing, so here’s some thoughts from Annie Griffin…

She was an actor who did the Fringe, and taught to make ends meet. Griffin moved to Scotland ten years ago. She became a screenwriter through TV. Perhaps best known for her Channel 4 series The Book Group, she also wrote and directed the film Festival. When she came to Screen Academy Scotland, Griffin was developing two TV projects and a feature. ‘The UK’s not an easy place to get films made, very talented people spend years trying to set up a feature film.’

Griffin her start directing making live action shorts for MTV Europe. She already had a production company, having set up Pirate Productions while working in the theatre. That meant she made money from her early TV endeavours. She joined PACT and started getting documentary commissions. She thought of herself as a filmmaker but was working in TV.

‘There are far more opportunities in British TV than films. There’s a major shift afoot, commissioning editors will take a meeting with a writer. Writers are becoming more empowered. Thanks to DVD film and TV projects have a much longer lifespan.’

Griffin was fulsome in her praise for The Wire, an acclaimed US series screened on the HBO pay network. ‘It’s hard to do a compelling first episode because you have to introduce all the characters. But The Wire assumes intelligence in its viewers, lets them do the work for themselves. It doesn’t reintroduce characters and concepts.’

‘More and more talent is moving from films into TV. When I made a feature I had nothing but pressure on the script, none of it about making a better film. TV, it’s all about making scripts better. Good storytelling is always about what you can take away. You can cut so much and the audience will still get it. Holding back information is more powerful, more enticing. Just give them a whiff of what’s going on.’

‘You don’t have to be glib and ultra-professional. Passion is better. You can always play the weird creative card. Movies are an unstable marriage of art and commerce, there’s enormous financial risk involved. People deny the risk by saying there’s a formula to making a successful film. There’s a lot of scape-goating on film shoots. The collapse of the US studio system during the 1960s gave power to young filmmakers, leading to the rise of the auteur director.’

Griffin suggested this has led to a particular kind of Sundance indie film, usually about white, middle class people, taking place in high school or a family setting, populated by alienated youth. ‘It’s the second film that makes a career, not the first breakthrough. After success people have less to write about.’ She praised Napoleon Dynamite for its vignette approach, rather than a classically structured story. ‘I like surprise. I hate inevitability in life or art.’

Rant: why can't publishers be professional, too?

If there's one thing guaranteed to make my stomach churn and my blood boil, it's dealing with late payments. Publishers expect freelancers to be professional, to deliver on time, every time. That's fine, I absolutely agree with that attitude. Be it books, magazines or comics, publishing is a business and professionalism is the least they can expect from the people they employ. I don't even baulk at contracts that impose a penalty clause if freelancers deliver work late. Wish we'd had the same thing when I was a comics editor, it might have motivated some creatives.

But is it unreasonable to expect those same publishers to pay freelancers on time? I don't see them volunteering to pay a ten per cent bonus for every week they're late delivering the fees we've earned. I'm not going to name and shame the publishers currently dragging the chain in my case, but late payments are putting me in serious financial difficulty. I'm owed £3500 at the moment. I've got outstanding invoices that date back three months, and no money coming in. I'm having to borrow money left, right and centre to make ends meet until my employers pay up.

There's the publisher who's been promising me a royalty statement for months, along with the royalties they owe me. I try nudging them by email, I try nagging them on the phone. I get plenty of promises, but all prove hollow and worthless. There's the publisher that expects me to deliver 5000 words by Tuesday when they haven't paid me for work I did in June. I'm not alone in this, trust me. I know authors still waiting on contracts from a prominent published house for books released back in March. Contracts on subsequent books are promised on attractive terms, but those terms are withdrawn after the author has written their novel.

What's a freelancer to do? If you've still got a commission to deliver and a deadline looming, you could try holding the work to ransom - but that's the last resort, and certain death to a working relationship. You have to ask yourself how much you trust the people involved? Did you want to work with them again? It took me nine months to get £100 out of Chrysalis Books, after which I vowed never to work with them again.

The moral of this rant is don't depend upon one publisher at a time. If they muck you about, even for reasons beyond their control, the consequences can be ruinous. And could publishers please, please, please try to match the same standards of professionalism they expect their freelancers to meet? Or is that too much to ask?

You are the protagonist of your own life story

Got all the deadlines in the world right here, so it's back to the Vicious Imagery archives for another blast from the past. This short piece is from July last year, but is just as relevant now as it was then. It's all about creating a personal narrative for yourself while filling in application forms or going to interviews for new opportunities. If you're a writer, turn yourself into a story, that's my policy...

The Optimistic Reader posted about how much they hate filling in application forms, specifically the Why Do You Deserve To Be Considered For This Opportunity section. I was much the same until I decided to turn these irksome moments into a storytelling exercise. The way I figure it, everybody likes to hear stories, likes to be entertained. If they didn't, all of us scribes would be out of a job.

Well, the same applies to people who have to vet applications, be it for a new job, a loan or a career advancement opportunity. Think how dull life must be for them, wading through dozens or even hundreds of arid CVs and dry, lifeless pleas to be considered. The same applies to interviews for this hypothetical job, loan or career advancement opportunity, assuming you're lucky enough to get shortlisted for whatever you're seeking.

A year ago I decided the best way to handle such situations was by creating a little narrative, building a character arc for myself. Inject that into your application form or your interview spiel, and it involves the person on the other side of the desk. You make yourself seem interesting and empowered, somebody on a quest with a clarity of vision about where they've come from and where they want to go.

That's certainly much more attractive than simply being nervous, sweaty and desperate. [I love the lines in Broadcast News on this subject, which I'll paraphrase from memory here: "Wouldn't it great if desperation were attractive? If need were a turn-on?"]

Why do you want this job, loan or career advancement opportunity? Tell them a story, turn yourself into a character in this story, and you're inviting them to help you achieve your quest. They can be Obi Wan to your Luke by agreeing to give you that loan, that job, that opportunity. Now, I'm not suggesting you lie or invent a complete fiction - you're liable to get found out. But think of what you're trying to achieve as a story and then pitch that story, through the text on your application or in person at the interview.

Sounds daft? Maybe it is, but this has been working for me. I successfully employed this method when I applied for my MA Screenwriting course, and it helped me secure nine months bing mentored by working screenwriter Adrian Mead. Remember, you are the hero of your own life, or at least the protagonist. Try turning that life into an entertaining or intriguing story.

She memed me

Seems I've been tagged on a movie music meme created by Lucy at Write Here, Write Now. You have to imagine you're in a particular kind of movie and decide an appropriate sound for the inevitable soundtrack. Five genres, five songs and then tag five other bloggers. Here's my efforts, all tracks you can preview on iTunes:

1.If I was in an 80s Brat Pack Movie:
Stay Up Forever by Chungking

2.If I was in a Rom Com:
I Can't Help Loving That Man by Bjork

3.If I was in a Blaxploitation Movie:
The Sad Chicken by Leroy and The Drivers
[I'd be the token white guy, dying in the second reel]

4.If I was in a Christmas Movie:
River Duet by Madeleine Payroux and k.d. lang

5.If I was in a Sundance Indie Movie:
Love Me Like You by the Magic Numbers

So I tag:
Laura at Miss Read
Barry at Perpetual Muddle
Lara at Tenacious Me
Jason at Bloggery Pokery
Maggie at Bootstrap Productions

Non-bloggers or peeps feeling left out, feel free to offer your own selections in the comments section...

David Bowie's nipple antenna

A class moment from HBO's Flight of the Conchords, as they pastiche David Bowie's astronaut music tendencies...

Scotland seeks landmark dramas

Got enough deadlines coming due in the next week to sink a battleship, so yesterday will no doubt prove my final visit to the 2007 Edinburgh International Film Festival. Sat in on a session called Landmark Dramas, all about a scheme called The Singles launched earlier this year by BBC Scotland and Scottish Screen. Submissions have to come from writers and independent production companies based in Scotland. Here's the gist of The Singles:

BBC Scotland Television Drama and Scottish Screen are launching a new slate of television plays - an exciting returnable brand of 60 minute single films of up to a maximum of £450,000 for broadcast on BBC Scotland. The purpose of the joint development slate is to find fresh, audacious and entertaining projects with the potential to play to a BBC One primetime audience.

Each film should display a strong sense of authorship with bold, clear ideas at its heart and aim to utilise the very best of writing, directing and producing talent. We're looking for big themes and distinctive, original stories that strongly connect with a Scottish audience but crucially also have a more universal appeal. Our goal is to produce drama from Scotland that will stand up against the very best drama from across the globe.

Yesterday's session at the film festival started late when technicial problems scuppered a showreel designed to demonstrate what The Singles initiative is all about. That left speakers Gaynor Holmes [GH], executive producer for drama at BBC Scotland, and Leslie Finlay [LF], a development executive for Scottish Screen, trying to fill in the gaps. Here's my scrambled notes on what they had to say.

GH: It's important for BBC Scotland to help local production companies develop indigenous talent. With The Singles we're trying to create legacy dramas that have a major impact on the audience. We're looking to commission three films, they need to be memorable. [She cited Tutti Fruitti, The Crow Road and Mrs Brown as past examples of legacy dramas.] They need to be big.

LF: We're looking for very authored pieces, that speak to Scotland and beyond.

GH: This is Scotland's opportunity to talk to the nation. We want diverse stories, a real variety. Over the past 10-15 years there's been a trend toward certain tropes in Scotland's broadcast drama - either urban gritty or chocolate box rural. I'm not kncoking those tropes, but they've been too prevelant. We want The Singles to reflect modern Scotland, while having a wider resonance.

We're looking for ptiches of up to four or five pages, but they can be less. Tell us the heart of the story. Who's the protagonist? What's the arena? What's the central theme? We'll be developing up to ten treatments, from which it's planned six will be commissioned to script. There's funding for three films. The hope is The Singles will become an annual event.

So far we've commissioned two treatments and in the process of commissioning three or four more. It's not an exact science. We have a slate of development funding, it's a fluid process. Each project stands along from the others. We're aiming to greenlight projects this year. September 14 is the deadlines for submissions.

GH said the official brief was submissions had to come via an independent production company, but unofficially she and LF were happy to look at projects that came straight from writers. They both read every submission, and have fortnightly meetings to talk them through. The Singles will be broadcast on BBC1 Scotland between 8 and 10 pm, so it's a primetime slot - but not nationally networked.

The original brief for the project stated submissions should be for standalone stories, but also suggested projects could serve as pilots for series. GH said this had been a mistaken notion when they were drafting the brief.

GH: It was shortsighted to ask for them to also be pilots. That's trying to serve two masters. The Singles are closer to 60 minute films than they are to TV series of 60 minute episodes. We're not looking for pilots. The BBC is only buying two UK transmissions, no other rights. We're looking at all genres, stories for adults, challenging and entertaining. The Singles shouldn't be sitting comfortably in that eight or nine o'clock slot. They should push the edge in terms of format.

We're had a lot of comedic pitches they have been too broad, too slapstick. We want witty and funny. There's been a lack of adult characters. Adult audiences don't want to watch teenage rite of passage stories. Some submissions have felt more like episodes from a precinct series, lacking that self contained bigness we want.

LF: A lot of submissions have been set in Glasgow. We would like to see other parts of Scotland.

GH: We could do with a few more female central protagonists. All submissions have to be set in contemporary Scotland. None of The Singles will be made in-house, they must be made by an indie. As yourself: is your idea a single, or a series? They feel different. The mantra now in TV drama is few, but bigger and for longer runs. That makes it very hard to drive an audience to single dramas. You're fighting the big brands. The BBC doesn't accept resubmissions, but if a great idea comes in that doesn't fit The Singles, we want let it get away from us.

Stunned by the digital generation

Went to see a programme of shorts at the Edinburgh Film Festival. Normally I wouldn't have bothered, short films aren't really my bag, but it was the official world premiere for a short written and directed by fellow blogger Potdoll. Her piece, Lady Margaret, was one of nine featured from the UK Film Council's digital shorts programmes. Plus it gave me a chance to meet the mysterious Potdoll, who uses a photo of a doll to represent herself in the blogosphere. [Like I can preach, since my picture is of my winklepicker shoes.]

We met in the delegate centre before the event and had a good natter. Also bumped into several other friendly faces, nearly all of them actors or filmmakers. Meanwhile poor Potdoll was nearly climbing the walls with nerves. Eventually it was time to go into Filmhouse 1 and watch the shorts. Lady Margaret was first, and bloody impressive it was too. Started off light and brezzy, but got darker and more menacing. By the end I could sense the audience worrying how far the film was going to go, as it made them complicit voyeurs. Great use of a windscreen wiper sound over the closing credits, too.

There were seven other pieces of between seven and 12 minutes, some hilarious, others moving or disturbing, one that had me gasping for dialogue [a bit like an asthmatic gasping for breath]. The screening culminated in a longer piece called Cherries written by Fiona Kissane, a chilling yet all too believable projection of where war could lead Britain. All in all, a fascinating snapshot of where digital filmmaking is going in the UK and a glimpse of the talents out there. Stunning stuff.

Blasts From the Past: On writing novels

Busy with stuff and things, so here's another Vicious Imagery archive extract, back from the day when this blog was read by me and several friends. This was first posted in March 2006, and talk about breaking into publishing as a novelist.

The first question you need to ask yourself is why do you want to write novels? Most people’s answers tend to fall into one [or more] of five categories:-

• they want to make a lot of money
• they want to be famous
• they want to have fun by working with words
• they want to get published, see their name on a book cover
• they want to write, they need to write, they have to write – it’s a compulsion

If you want to make a lot of money, give up now. For every story you read about new authors securing six figures advances for their debut novel, there are literally tens of thousands of other scribes who never get published or who never make enough money from their writing to do it fulltime. A survey by the Society of Authors among its members put the annual average gross income at around £8000. Me, I make three to four times that much each year, so that means there must be two or three other society members making nothing each year to balance me out.

You can make a decent living from writing, but rare is the author who makes that living from novels alone. Most have other strings to their bow. I also write radio plays, non-fiction books and articles, audio dramas, comic strips and short stories. Others teach creative writing, or become writers in residence or venture into other areas of writing. So, don’t expect to make a fortune from your writing – unless you last name is Rowling or Rankin.

If you want to be famous, writing novels is not the way to do it, either. There are more than 100,000 new books published in Britain every year. They’re not all novels, but that’s a hell of a lot of competition. Adventure, excitement – an novelist craves not these things.

Wanting to have fun with words is a great motivation for writing, perhaps the purest of urges. That doesn’t mean you have to become a novelist, but if you don’t have a passion for writing and an enthusiasm for enjoying the process of writing, you’ll be a very unhappy scribe. If nothing else, writing novels generally involves a lot of typing. [Top Tip #1 – if you can’t touch type already, take a night class that teaches it. Being able to type with all ten fingers is one of the most useful skills any novelist can have.]

Getting published and seeing your name in great is a thrill – the first time. Excuse the pun, but the novelty soon wears off. Getting published sadly does not guarantee literary immortality. I had four novels published in the 1990s, none of them remain in print. The internet and print on demand can help you sustain the life of your backlist, but that’s another discussion. Here we’re talking about getting started, not staying in print.

The best reason you can have for being a novelist is that you have no choice: you’re wired that way. It’s been a nagging urge at the back of your thoughts for years, even decades. You feel you’ve got a book in you, and more. You have to write, you get a little crazy when you’re not writing. You’ll need that slightly obsessive drive to write if you’re going to make anything more than a passing hobby of writing, especially novels.

Now, if you’ve already completed a novel, you’re already ahead of 90% of would-be writers. The vast majority of people believe they have a novel in them, but never start it. Some do start, but don’t have the stamina to finish it. [Top Tip #2 – stamina in crucial for novelists. Me, I’m a sprint writer. I am to produce 4000 words a day when I’m bashing out a first draft. Cutting and polishing is where the raw material becomes worth reading, but that’s second draft. Even producing 4000 words a day, five days a week, it still takes a month to produce the first draft of a relatively short novel. If you’re only able to write part-time, it’ll take a lot longer. Stamina is crucial.]

So, you’ve completed a novel and tried shopping it around without success. Why didn’t anyone bite? First of all, your novel might simply not be good enough – not a pleasant notion, but it’s a possibility. It’s hard for you to objective about that, and the same applies to your family and friends. If you can find one locally, join a writers’ group and get some of the members to offer you feedback. Don’t ask them for suggestions on how to make the novel better. You have to train them to give feedback by asking questions. Why did that happen? Why didn’t that character do this? Why do that take so many chapters? DON’T answer their questions, don’t get into a debate, and don’t argue with them – these people are doing you a favour, after all! Instead, take a note of their questions.

Once you’ve got feedback from three different people, look at the questions they asked. What questions came up time and time again? Chances are, if two or three people from those giving you feedback identify the same thing, it’s a flaw in your novel. If only person strongly objects to a character, a choice or whatever, you can take their opinion with a pinch of salt. Personal taste is always an issue. Ultimately, this is your novel, not their novel – you have final say about what stays, what goes and what changes.

Let’s say your novel is good enough to get published – why didn’t it find a buyer? Depends on whom you sent the novel to and how you marketed yourself as a potential novelist. There’s a lot I could tell you about this, but the best thing you can do is some market research of your own. There’s two books I strongly recommend you buy and read in depth. From Pitch to Publication by Carole Blake [ISBN 0333714350] is a brilliant guide to getting yourself published. It’s particularly good for writers of commercial fiction, but most of the advice the book offers is as applicable in other areas. The other book is The Writers’ Handbook by Barry Turner [the 2006 edition’s ISBN is 1405041544, the next edition is due out in August], a great guide to the ins and out of the industry, replete with contact names and addresses for agents, editors and publishers.

You might want to take a workshop on marketing yourself as an author. These are often put on at book festivals and literary festivals, such as the Edinburgh International Book Festival. Find out where your nearest book festival is and check out what’s on offer there. I did a workshop with Alison Baverstock and she offered some great tips on how to make yourself a more attractive prospect for publishes and editors. She’s got a good book on the subject too, Marketing Your Book: An Author’s Guide [ISBN 0713659653]. This may seem like a lot of homework, but if you want to sell your book you have to know your market and whom to target with your work.

Licensed fiction: I know quite a few writers with great careers who got their start writing licensed fiction. Paul Cornell wrote the Father’s Day episode of Doctor Who screened on BBC1 last year – his first book was a licensed fiction tome. There are many other examples, but I won’t bore you with those. In the 1990s Virgin Books gave a start to dozens and dozens of previously unpublished authors via the Doctor Who range of novels. They paid a decent advance, you kept the copyright on your work and royalties on sales, too.

Alas, the licensed fiction market has gotten somewhat more cutthroat in recent years. The BBC reclaimed the Doctor Who published licence in 1997 and that book range is pretty much a closed shop at present. Those companies in Britain who are publishing licensed fiction have less attractive terms. The likes of Black Flame, the Black Library and new imprint Abaddon Books all expect authors to surrender their copyright, pay them a flat fee and there’s little or no prospect of royalties either. Crucially, they will look at submissions from previously unpublished scribes.

So what else are the advantages of going down this route? You get a novel published with your name on the cover. That can be valuable in proving to other publishers you have the ability to get a book in print and shows you’ve been through the filtering process with another publishing house. In other words, it’s a start and you get some money for your efforts – but not much more.

If you want to write for a US publisher of licensed fiction, such as the Star Trek at Simon and Schuster or the Star Wars range at Del Rey Books, you’ve got a much harder road ahead of you. All I can say there is… good luck. Email and the internet should make the Atlantic an invisible barrier, but the reality is you’re fighting against 250 million more wannabes if you’re trying to crack the US market. Yes, it can be done, but it’s harder.

Five hours at the Edinburgh film festival

Went to the Edinburgh International Film Festival on Saturday, en route to a house-warming in Doune, north of Stirling. The Writers' Guild of Great Britain was hosting a couple of events in conjunction with the many, many festivals happening in Edinburgh. Writer Deborah Moggach was at the Oxford Bar for an informal chat with other guild members. She wrote the 2005 film adaptation of Pride and Prejudice starring Keira Knightley, but has also authored novels and several TV projects.

It was hosing with rain outside and her session started at eleven in the morning, but I was determined to get along. Deborah was one of the writing mentors on the Guiding Lights programme last year, so I thought she'd have some interesting things to say about that experience, and her career. She did - much of which she asked to be kept off the record. Her tales of brushes with Hollywood were fascinating, particularly about adapting a novel she'd written.

Next was another dash through the rain to the Sheraton, where most of the film festival industry panels are being held. Caught the final hour of a session about finding a producer for your dream project. The panel led by David Pope of the New Producers Alliance was frank, funny and fascinating. The NPA is starting a scheme called First Draft aimed at enabling writers to create just that, with weekend-long sessions once a month for six months. I'd suggest you need to live in striking distance of London to take best advantage.

Had half an hour between sessions to grab a bit to eat, and natter with other Screen Academy Students at the festival. Then it back to another panel called The Working Writer. That had quite a mix of people on it - writers, producers, development execs - so it ranged quite broadly. Among the panellists was Claire Mundell, a Scottish producer developing projects for TV and film at Synchronicity Films. She had fresh ideas about how producers can share intellectual property rights with writers, instead of simply acquiring all rights.

When that was over, it was time to dash. Hoping to get back to the festival on Wednesday, but am juggling that with the need to write several features as they're paying jobs [and bills need paying]. Also got my final project to rewrite, but am waiting on more feedback before tackling that task. Had some interesting and diverse responses thus far. There's plenty of work still to do, but lots of encouraging noises too. Which is nice. Must dash now, got another student's screenplay sat on my desk, in need of a read and feedback.

Cracking comics - it ain't easy [slight return]

Busy day ahead, so here's some re-run action from the early days of Vicious Imagery, when few people were reading the blog. This post from December 2005 is about breaking into comics, particularly British science fiction weekly 2000 AD...

A friend of a friend sent me an email, asking how to break into comics. Here's what I said: Cracking writing for comics - that's a tough one. Let's talk about market realities first. In Britain, there's very little work going. Perhaps five writers make a living solely from scripting for British comics. The main publishers are DC Thompson (terrible pay - I've no contacts there, so can't really help you), Redan (not gret pay, only nursery titles so not even really comics - again, I've never worked for them), Panini (very little work going but apparently there is some - I honestly don't know who should you target there) and the 2000 AD titles.

Since 2000 AD's my field of expertise (or, at least, experience), I'll talk about that. Matt Smith is the weekly's editor and your first port of call. He's a relatively shy, introverted type of guy, so don't bother cold-calling him. You're better off sending an email to matt.smith@rebellion.co,uk asking if he's looking for anything at the moment. Indicate you're williing to have a crack at Future Shocks or other one-offs (Terror Tales, or 2000 AD's alternate history tales).

Don't bother sending him your idea for a great 12-part series. Even if Matt is looking for new blood, you'll need to prove you can come up with great five-page stories with a beginning, middle and end, compelling characters, fresh ideas and a dazzlingly new approach. Every week. Week in, week out.

And you'll need to be patient. 2000 AD's pretty much a one-man-band, Matt's a busy bloke and he hasn't got time to tutor wannabe scribes. Tough love, but it's the truth. He's got more than a dozen experienced scribes on tap, all fighting for five slots a week. You're up against award-winning, major talents like Wagner, Grant, Mills, Rennie, Morrison, etc. You've got to be good enough to displace them from the comic.

Even if you do, the money's not great. Newcomers are lucky to get 50 quid a page. Say you write a five-page strip, that's 250 quid. Say you write that strip and it's in every issue, every week, you're still only grossing 13 grand a year. Trust me, nobody got rich writing for 2000 AD alone.

But it's a good portfolio for trying to crack other markets (e.g. the US). Get a couple of series published in 2000 AD (ideally with a great artist attached) and DC might be willing to acknowledge you exist. Of course, it takes years of knocking on doors to crack the US market. You need to hustle, hustle, hustle. You need to network, go to the cons, the pub gatherings in London. You'll need your own website and blog. You'll need to hang in there, get past all the rejections, keep going when you haven't had any money for weeks or even months.

And you'll need talent, great gobs of it.

Sadly, there is no magic key, no special door that leads to your own Vertigo series, a cult of personality, graphic novels with your name on the spine and all that stuff. If you thought cracking screenwriting was tricky, comics is much worse - simply because there's so little work going at any given moment.

As an example, look at 2000 AD scribe Si Spurrier. he started off when he was 15, sending in two or three Future Shock ideas a week. For three years. Constantly rejected, constantly kicked in the teeth. He stuck in there and now is one of the comic's rising stars - nearly ten years later.

Don't believe you can crack comics quickly or make any money out of it. The work is poorly paid, irregular and in no way glamorous. That's why I also write novels, audio dramas, non-fcition books and articles, and anything else I can get my grubby little mits on. That's why I'm doing an MA in Screenwriting, to push myself to be a better writer.

Most of my comics work? It's for Fantomen, a Scandinavia comic featuring costumed hero The Phantom. I write 5-6 issues a year for that and it's a nice little earner. But I doubt I'll ever make my living principally from comics, simply because I'm not willing to do the spadework required to make that my career. I'd rather write novels and TV and films and radio drama and anything else that takes my fancy. I love comics, but not to the exclusion of all else. You want to crack comics, you have to love it to the exclusion of all else. Once you've cracked it and become the next Grant Morrison or Garth Ennis or Mark Millar or Andy Diggle, then you can flirt with other media.

Hope that's of some help - good luck!

Three photos from Florence

Off to the Edinburgh International Film Festival today, so no time for musings, witterings or babblings. Instead, here's three photos snapped while visiting Florence in 2005. One's a freaky sculture in the Boboli Gardens, one's the interior of the Duomo [cue Anthony Hopkins: 'You know Florence?'], and the other is from inside the Bargello. Once a palace, later police HQ and then a prison, it's now a musuem. Nice.

Always crashing gears [in the same car]

Swapping from one genre to another and one storytelling medium to another guarantees variety in the working life of a freelancer, but making the change can be problematic. You've been going great guns writing a calling card TV pilot script, when suddenly you have to switch directions and tackle a comics script. It's a bit like changing from top gear into reverse in six seconds: the engine screams in protest, the vehicle struggles to stay on the road and the whiplash can be severe. Try not to bang your heard on the dashboard as you come to a sudden, screeching halt.

So it was yesterday. Spent the morning trying to disengage the TV script portion of my brain with limited success, choosing instead to read and offer feedback on somebody else's script project. Printed out the synopsis for a Phantom comic script I'm due to deliver this week. Transcribed some notes from my editor Ulf, that had been scrawled temporarily on the back of an envelope. Re-read the synopsis to remind myself of the story, the tone and to determine its pacing. And then I agonised, long and hard, trying to find the right cold opening for my script, the perfect start.

Finally got into my stride about five and was picking up some steam by six - when I had to stop for other concerns. So it's back in the saddle, once I've tweaked a thought piece for another publication. I've printed out what I wrote on the Phantom yesterday to read, revise and improve. Suspect I've run a bit long on some of the scenes, getting everything established. My synopsis has 14 paragraphs, so that equates to about 15 panels per paragraph.

When I stopped I was on paragraph four of the synopsis, but had already reached panel 76. So I need to tighten up what I've already written to leave room for big beats to come. Think I might have a repeat beat in those 76 panels, so that can come out. Everybody knows what a repeat beat is, right? A script editor friend explained the concept to me. It's when something happens once in a script, but the same sequence plays out again later on. Feels great the first time, too familiar the second.

There's an episode of new Doctor Who where a character stays behind to nobly sacrifice themselves fighting a big, bad monster [not unlike the "You always were an asshole, Gorman" sequence in Aliens]. But five minutes later in the same Who episode [it might even be in the same chase sequence], another character stays behind to nobly sacrifice themselves fighting the big, bad monster. Worse still, it devalues the sacrifices of both characters. Hence, repeat beat.

Sigh. I start these blog entries talking about one thing and invariably end up wittering on about something else. But that's preferrable to interview features in newspapers and magazines where the writer feels obliged to open with some comment and bring their article full circle by referring back to that comment at the end. Please leave those juvenile bookend tendences at journalism school. Please?

Wilma wows with festival feature

Back to work today after giving myself the luxury of a break yesterday. Had a trip to the dentist [one filling required, so back in October for that], got the battery in my watch replaced after six weeks without a functioning chronometer on my person, recharged the iPod - all those things you never get to do when writing hell for leather on a succession of deadlines.

Topped it off with a trip into Edinburgh where I collected my delegate's pass for the film festival. Hoping to fit a few festival events into the next ten days, alongside college work, paying work and life. As a delegate I got access to the Videotheque, where you can watch dozens of films and shorts from the festival at a time convenient to you.

I'll struggle to make most of the industry or festival screenings, so the Videotheque’s a useful resources. Watched My Life As a Bus Stop, the low budget feature by husband and wife Scottish guerrilla filmmakers, Duncan and Wilma Finnigan. Laugh out loud funny, My Life As a Bus Stop was quirky, moving in places and full of surreal moments. The film’s in competition at the festival, and its raw energy will definitely stand out from the pack.

Like me, Wilma is a second year part-time student on the MA screenwriting course at Screen Academy Scotland. There are seven or eight of us [getting everyone in the same room at once is never easy], all with different backgrounds, ambitions and styles. It’s great to see one of the group already breaking through, getting attention for their work and creativity. There’s a lot of talent among our group, it’ll be interesting to see who’s next to make a name for themselves.

Back to work for me today. Got a feature article to tweak and a Phantom script to write, both by end of play tomorrow. Onwards.

BBC putting the Damages on

Broadcast reports the BBC has acquired new US legal drama Damages, starring Glenn Close, for broadcast on BBC1 next spring. They're billing it as John Grisham's The Firm crossed with Steven Bochco's Murder One, and that's not a bad analogy. Close is best known as a film actress, but stuck her toe in TV waters with a season-long guest spot on the FX corrupt cops drama The Shield. [Season four to be precise, recently released on Region 2 DVD in the UK. Go, get it. Now.] Now she's back playing the lead in Damages, a legal drama that avoids the usual table-thumping cliches for a gri and gritty serial about a lawyer who'll stop at nothing to win.

Among the creators and lead writers of Damages is Todd A. Kessler, whose previous credits include The Sopranos. David Chase's mob family series may be gone, but its legacy will cast a long, long shadow. As well as Damages, another Sopranos alumni has an interesting new series screening this summer across the Atlantic. Matthew Weiner's Mad Men is set in the world of New York advertising during 1960. I read somewhere he wrote the pilot script nearly a decade ago, and it got him a gig working on The Sopranos. Now his pilot has spawned a series on the American Movie Channel, which is moving into original programming.

How many more great new TV dramas can we expect from people who used to work on The Sopranos? Plenty is my guess. In the meantime, keep an eye out for Damages when it reaches the BBC next year. It's got a cunning mystery structure that parcels out information in tiny amounts at a time, so you never know what'll happen next - yet you already know [or think you do] what has happened. Clever, clever, clever.

First draft: job done. Let rewriting commence

To my own amazement, I wrote seventeen pages of my TV pilot script yesterday and finished it. Phew. No matter what happens over the next two weeks, I've got something can hand in at the end of the month to complete my MA screenwriting course. One week earlier, I hadn't written one page of script, now I've got a 60-page first draft. I've been talking a good talk about how devoting so much time to prep work makes the process of writing the first draft so much easier and, it seems, I was right. It was easy.

I'd taken so many of the structural decision agonies out of the equation, they never impinged on my writing. My scene by scene breakdown was guilty of a classic soap mistake - dividing sequences into too scenes and intercutting with too many scenes from other sequences - but I fixed much of that in the writing. I knew my characters so well, I could tell instinctively how they would react. Even then, they managed to surprise, taking on a life of their own.

When Giuseppe was introduced to a police constable, he gave the newcomer a hug instead of shaking his hand. When he was wronged, it was Giuseppe who was first to forgive. His wife Violetta showed herself to have a lot more bottle than was evident from my prep work. Both she and her counterpart in the Douglas clan of Scottish Protestants were smarter than I'd given them credit for. Seventeen-year-old Isabella is quite the imp.

Duff moments that never sat well with me in the scene by scene got cut, scenes got collapsed together and new characters emerged seamlessly from the setting. I found the first ten pages the hardest work, establishing house style and relaxing enough to let the characters have their own voices. But the further I got through the script, the faster I was writing. By the end of it I wanted to keep writing, to dive straight into episode two and see what my characters did next. But I can't, nor should I.

Next task is getting some feedback. [If anybody wants to give me some Power of 3 feedback, email me here: david at davidbishop dot co dot uk.] Need to let some fresh eyes see this first draft, despite how raw and unrefined it is. Normally I'd allow myself a few weeks before giving the script a polish and then seeking feedback, but delivery deadline in August 31, so needs must. Paying gigs need my attention, so I won't be back at Mackay St in June 1940 for a week.

Then the rewriting begins. Have I made enough of the first cliffhanger? Should there be a montage showing all the characters reacting to the news that twists events into a new direction, or would that fight the style and tone I've already established? Is the storytelling too soapy, too fractured? Have I overstuffed the script with storylines and characters, or does it befit the dual family saga I'm creating? Could I make more of the religious conflicts, the cultural divide? All questions for the future. I've been writing seven days straight. I'm having today off.

TAPS courses open for applications

TAPS is now open for applications on two of its courses: the two-day script editing workshop, and the continuing series masterclass.

Script Editing
The longest-running script editing scheme in the UK, this workshop has quickly established itself as the leading course for industry professionals hoping to work in script editing. A comprehensive two-day workshop will guide you step-by-step through the editor’s role, from searching for original talent and script analysis to a detailed exploration of the relationship between writer, script editor and producer. Guest tutors have included script, story and series editors from across the broadcasters, allowing you access to unseen script drafts and storylining documents. For the first time the course is now open to both Freelancers and Companies!
Application deadline 17 September 2007
Course running 5/6 October 2007

Continuing Series Masterclass
A joint venture between TAPS and Talkback Thames, this course is an advanced programme for writers working in 30-minute drama trying to make the leap into the 60-minute format. Split across two workshop sessions, you will work with top writers and creative staff from The Bill to follow an episode from initial storyline to transmission, Between modules, you will put this knowledge into action as you develop your own episode treatment to be assessed b the actual series script editors. NB: Applicants must have at least a 30-minute transmitted drama credit.
Application deadline 1 November 2007
Course running 17-18 Jan, 21-22 Feb 2008

For further information and application
forms email: gemma at tapsnet dot org

Random notes on post-its

Slammed through 14 pages of my MA screenwriting course final project yesterday, slinging enough ink to cover most of act three. It's a TV pilot script, divided into four acts as if it were a 60-minute show on a British commercial channel. [My target is 60 pages, which is actually too long for an hour-long drama on ITV or Channel 4 - those commercial breaks can eat up to 10 minutes out of an hour.] So yesterday was all about building the tension to the final commercial break, as the stomm hits the fan bigtime.

When I'm writing this quickly, there's always a danger of flying past obvious or good plot points as they pop up. So I try to give myself a clear hour of thinking time at the end of the day, looking over what I still need to write. All those little things you need to set up for paying off later, that's when they become apparent. So I'll scribble notes down the side of my scene by scene, or on post-it notes.

Do this long enough and my desk is awash in post-it notes. Things I need to do, things to investigate or research, things to remember. Here are today's random words, thoughts and moments I need to retro-fit into what I wrote yesterday before progressing the script: Insert Dante in back of pub scenes Act 3. G - show more affection as he leaves to protect cafe. Cut go through me line. Renata offers to fetch police - G says no.

These are not unlike the notes I scribble when I'm directing a play, or the notes I get when I'm acting. Strictly amateur dramatics, but a lot of fun and a good way to stretch some different creative muscles. If you're a writer, I recommend trying your hand at acting or directing.

It offers you the chance to get on the other side of a script, to experience what it's like for the people who need to make your words work. I'm in rehearsals for a Neil Simon play at the moment, a great comedy writer. But there's a couple of lines I'd dearly love to rewrite.

Even if you're in no rush to make a twit on yourself on stage, taking an acting class or two won't hurt. If nothing else, you get off your chair and out of your house, making a visit to the real world beyond your four walls. The humiliation and embarrassment factor can be high [you should see the state of my hair at the moment, yikes].

Still, acting somebody else's words gives you a fresh perspective on writing your own. Unless they're trying for an Oscar or some other award, no actor will thank you for long, long speeches. Especially if they have to learn those sides for the next day's filming. Less is almost always more.

Get down [busy izzy izzy]

Trying to get some work done today, so the whipcrack of discipline is required. Feel free to amuse yourselves, but try not to go blind as a consequence, or put anybody's eye out. Big congratulations to Paul Campbell of Scriptuality, who starts term at the BBC Writers' Academy on September 17. Play nice with the other scribes, Paul.

Cardiff city, here I come [finances permitting]

Been offered a place on the Nations incarnation of TAPS' continung drama workshop in Cardiff at the end of the month. That's the good news. Bad news? Begging or borrowing the money needed to fund my attendance. I can apply to Skillset for 80% of fees back [about £250 of the £325 required], and they'll chip in some money for travel and subsistence too, which is nice.

Of course, you can only apply to Skillset's freelance fund once a year for such assistance, so that's a factor. And there's no guarantee I will get the funding. And even if I do, you still have to pay for everything up front and try to claim your reimbursement later. All factors in choosing whether to go.

Plus there's no shortage of deadlines I need to meet between now and then. Halfway through writing the first draft of my MA screenwriting course final project. Want to get that done, send it out for some Power of 3 action and complete one least one more draft before I have to deliver the results on August 31. Got a Phantom script to write, that's at least two days to do a decent job.

Got the final two parts of an interview feature to write, so that's another two or three days. The Edinburgh Film Festival starts any day and I've paid £50 for a discounted delegate pass, so want to make some use of that. But Edinburgh's a two hour round trip, so any trip to town is effectively another working day gone, gone, gone.

Friends coming to stay, a trip to the dentist and play rehearsals all conspire to consume the 18 days left before I'd have to leave for Cardiff. I'd like some hint of a social life as well, but it looks like that'll have to wait until September. Argh. Still, with any luck I'll scrap together the necessary funds and spend three days in Cardiff at the end of this month.

At least I don't have to wait for news about whether or not I've succeeded with that opportunity. Let's hope my job application and my good run with Danny's Toys in the PAGE International Screenwriting Contest prove just as successful. Fingers crossed.

Time management and juggling skills needed

Re-read Alex Epstein's excellent Crafty TV Writing: Thinking Inside the Box over the weekend. Like most books about writing for television, it focuses on the North American market's needs, wants and tendencies. [Alas, I've still find a British equivalent that's as entertaining, informed and informative.] Nevertheless, the best tomes from across the Atlantic always have a section in the middle that deals with issues about characterisation, some structural stuff and a few gems about avoiding bad dialogue.

Alex Epstein also maintains a blog called Complications Ensue that's full of helpful hints, tips and personal experiences from like in the trenches of TV writing. His latest posting is about time management and features two sentences that hit home for me. Firstly: It's always good to have [multiple] irons in the fire ... but you don't want to be all over the place creatively. Absolutely. As a freelance writing I have to switch between comics, journalism, novels, radio drama, non-fiction books and speculative TV pilots at the drop of a hat.

Yes, it's all writing, but it's all different writing. Different craft skills, different lengths, different styles, different storytelling conventions, different voices, different styles. And that's before you divide each medium into individual genres. A Nightmare on Elm Street novel reader has wildly different expectations to a Warhammer novel reader, just as a science fiction script written for 2000AD needs to push different buttons to an action adventure comic yarn written for The Phantom. It's a bit like driving different cars: you have to mentally adjust your seat every time you change storytelling vehicle.

Here's the other Alex Epstein epigram that caught my eye: you never want to be in a situation where you have to write faster than you can write your best. Ain't that the truth. Any freelance scribe out there will have a war story [if not several] about pitching for half a dozen different jobs and all of them get commissioned, all with the same or similar deadlines. Writing for a living is a famine or feast business, where you get turned down far more often than you get commissioned. But there's always the danger of having too many irons in the fire, of getting over-committed.

I've been guilty of this more than a few times in the past, and the work I produced suffered as a consequence. What seemed like a feast of work can easily turn into an arid famine because you pissed off the people who commissioned you by trying to do too many different things at once. Be honest with them [and yourself!] about what you can realistically achieve while maintaining quality. Do they want it tomorrow and finished, or next week and good? Chances are, they want it tomorrow and good, but they'll settle for next week.

If they can't wait, a good commissioner will go elsewhere to find the work but they should still respect you for being honest and upfront about the time you need to do quality work. If your work is gone enough, they'll come back again. Deadlines are always negotiable, but you need to do the negotiating at the moment of commissioning, not one week or one day before deadline - and never after the deadline has passed. There's a word for writers who do that, and they don't keep getting work for long unless they're a certifiable genius.

BBC4 exploring the history of British comics

The MediaGuardian website reports that BBC4 has commissioned a season of programmes about comics. Three-part documentary Comics Britannia will cover titles and publications from the past seventy years, including 2000 AD. Narrated by The Thick of It creator Armando Iannucci, the series will feature those who wrote and illustrated the strips, comic experts and a range of celebrity fans who will relive their favourite moments and characters, according to the website. The documentaries are being made in-house by BBC Bristol. Good to know this project is happening, after lots of back and forth with a researcher a few months back followed by much radio silence. Fingers crossed the shows avoid the usual KAPOW! THUNK! cliches.

Engrossing and glorious, says The First Post

Online daily magazine The First Post has given THRILL-POWER OVERLOAD a capsule review, calling the book glorious and describing it as the engrossing history of 2000 AD. Which is nice. My sources tell me the mighty tome is selling well, so that's another reason to be cheerful. TPO consumed a large chunk from six years of my life and can't have been a cheap book for Rebellion to publish, so it's gratifying to see the results get good reviews and healthy sales.

Time, time, time to see what's become of me

Can't remember if I've already mentioned this, but I recently signed contracts to write my 19th novel. It's for Games Workshop's Black Library imprint, but the usual non-disclosure agreements preclude me from saying any more about the project. At the moment it's my main job for September and October, with various other bits and bobs fitted in around the book. Been a while since I've written a novel. There was a spell between November 2003 and January last year where I averaged one new novel every months, producing nine books in 27 months. By the end I was frazzled and more than a little burnt out, but not unhappy with most of my efforts.

My output of books has dropped significantly since then, as I've been concentrating my efforts on broadcast drama and my screenwriting MA course. I did update The Complete Inspector Morse for its revised hardcover edition in 2006, and turned my articles on the history of British comic 2000 AD into the massive tome that is THRILL-POWER OVERLOAD. I also wrote my first Warhammer novel for Games Workshop and created the novel Fiends of the Rising Sun, a spin-off from my Fiends of the Eastern Front trilogy. So it's not like I've had no new books published, but my print output has slowed down.

I've got plenty to do between now and starting my new novel in September. There's the final project for my MA course, that's beginning to bubble along nicely. Got a Phantom script to write next week, along with parts two and three of an interview feature for the Megazine. Hopefully some other journalism for various clients that help keep the wolf from the door. Need to find some time and creative brain space to develop a radio drama idea I've been nurturing for forever. The premise is all these, but a couple of sample scenes to demonstrate the main characters and some elucidation of how I'll tell the story is my next requirement.

Plus I'll be doing a lot of waiting, trying to keep myself busy to stop from thinking about outcomes, responses and feedback I'm expecting. I applied for the Nations variant of TAPS' continuing drama workshop, but haven't had a yes or no about that yet. I applied for a job that I'd dearly love to get, but haven't heard if I've made the interview shortlist yet. [It's a classic Catch-22: to get the job you need to have professional experience doing the job, but you can't get professional experience without someone giving you a chance to do the job - the sort of scenario that always irks newbies like me.] Meanwhile my script Danny's Toys is still in the running for the PAGE International Screenwriting Contest's short film category.

At least with the last of these, I know exactly when to expect some news, as the finalist are announced on August 30th. I believe the TAPS workshop starts the next day in Cardiff, so I should hear about that sooner rather than later. As for the job application, Grud knows when I'll hear back about that. Could be today, could be September or much later. That's so far out of my hands I might as well forget it even exists until I get an email one day that'll either be a pleasant surprise or a dull thud of disappointment. Fingers crossed it's the former, not the latter.

Grade wants ITV drama to produce sweet 16s

ITV needs returning weekly drama series that can run up for at least three months at a stint, according to executive chairman Michael Grade. He made his comments yesterday in a presentation covered by both Broadcast and Media Guardian. "I'm talking about series that run 12, 14, 15 weeks a year, every year for three, four or five years, that is where we have been weak. Short series we are brilliant at, whether it's Commander or Wire in the Blood and so on, these are terrific series but they are not 16 weeks a year, that's where we are short and we are working very very hard on that. That will take some time to come through."

Where are these series going to come from? Let's face it, independent production companies such as Kudos, Shed, Company and Carnival are the most likely candidates. Watch out for efforts from Red Planet, Monastic and Mammoth, especially as the latter's headed up by Damien Timmer and Michella Buck, formerly of ITV Productions. Aside from the BBC, the rise of the indie prodco has seen a seismic shift in the creation of TV drama over the past 10-15 years, and that's only going to accelerate.

How much of a serial element will be incorporated into these new series Grade wants? Most British returning drama series opt for character arcs that run over several episodes or even a series, perhaps with a continuing plotline bubbling under the surface. But the A story of most episodes stands alone and can be enjoyed on its own merits, without resorting to lengthy Previously on... recaps. True serials in the mould of Lost and Heroes are less common on British TV, as they demand viewer loyalty that's difficult to generate. You could argue recent hit Life on Mars was as much serial as series, but each episode largely stood alone.

Lots of commissioners talk about wanting sexy, high concept shows, the sort of thing Kudos has made its stock in trade: Spooks, Hustle, Life on Mars are all prime examples. Not every Kudos production is like that, but those are the ones that get a lot of ink, a lot of attention. Could you sustain Hustle for 16 episodes a year? Probably, but how cons are there to be run? Spooks could be expanded, but would making 16 episodes a year diminish the quality? And Life on Mars only lasted 16 episodes in total, though it has spawned a sequel in Ashes in Ashes.

It'll be a tricky task to deliver high concept, glossy shows that can also generate 16 episodes a year for three to five years in succession. That's more than the annual output of acclaimed America cable shows like The Shield, Dexter, The Wire or my new favourite, Damages. How long before British TV embraces the showrunner and writers' room method used by the US to create up to 22 episodes of slick, high concept TV drama with a consistent voice and tone? Obviously, the American method is no guarantee of success or quality, but it works across the Atlantic - why can't it be made to work here?

The stumbling block is probably going to be money. US shows employs big writing staffs on fixed term contracts, with escalating salaries. The norm for British TV is freelancer scribes with an executive producer calling the shots, and script editors inbetween, trying to keep everybody sweet. When will a UK broadcaster or indie prodco put their hand in their pocket and fund an attempt at the US system? If Michael Grade does want 16 episodes a year of high quality entertainment, ITV will have to invest a lot of money into making that happen.

Been so long I can't remember who gets tied up

No, gutter-brains, I'm talking about starting a first draft. At a guess I'd say it's been five or six months since I last began a new TV script. That was TAKING LIBERTIES, the TV drama pilot I developed under the mentorship of Adrian Mead. Since then I've been rewriting that project or giving my short script DANNY'S TOYS the occasional polish. The rest of my time's been devoted to paying gigs - journalism for DeathRay Magazine and the Judge Dredd Megazine, scripts for the Phantom comic published by Egmont Sweden, research for an Inspector Morse TV documentary, running workshops on creating comics and writing novels, plus a bunch of other bits and bobs.

Yesterday I broke ground on a new script. I've been prepping FAMILIES AT WAR for what feels like forever, so it was a relief to finally get started. Of course, I procrastinated all damned day before opening a new document in final draft and actually typing any words. So long as any project is still in prep, or being researched, or undergoing contemplation, it's still perfect. The moment you actually commit to typing anything, perfection gets diminished. You've sullied the brilliant story in your head with the pish that appears on your computer screen.

Get used to it. Like a lot of writers, I suffer from Good Pupil Syndrome, a craven need for approval and recognition. I want my first draft to be perfect, for people around the world to acclaim it as the work of genius I want it to be. Reality is somehow always less satisfying. There's a reason Shitty First Drafts are called Shitty First Drafts. Only freaks hit a home run at the first attempt. Us mere mortals have to grind out that Shitty First Draft, recognise the many flaws in it and move on to the Hopefully Less Shitty Second Draft.

So that's where I'll be the next few days, visiting the land of the Shitty First Draft. The weather is terrible, the food sucks and dissatisfaction's guaranteed. Wish me luck, I'm going in.

"Man! What kind of wood is this?"

Kung fu movie auditions. This has to be seen to be believed.

Writing stuff to realise you don't need to write it

Well and truly cream crackered, but that's what comes of one night sharing a strange single bed, one night in my normal bed but having to get up at four in the morning to fly to That Fancy London, and a night on a inflatable mattress that was slowly deflating. Tired. I'm oh so tired. Sigh. Still, enough whining. Spent 36 hours in That Fancy London visiting friends, seeing a show [Little Shop of Horrors at the Ambassadors Theatre, great stuff] and taking a class in ideas creation at the V&A's Museum of Childhood. Got back last night, drooling in front of the TV for a while and tried to get some sleep. Now just done in, with waaaay too much to do.

Got a script from Miss Read to read and offer some Power of 3 feedback upon. Got a Phantom story to write for Egmont Sweden [but that's not due until August 15th]. Got to start writing the first draft of my final project for the MA Screenwriting course. That's due August 31st, but I've been prepping it for weeks and weeks and weeks. Some genius [William Goldman?] divides writing a screenplay into 60% preparation, 10% spent writing the first draft and 30% rewriting. I've certainly done my prep, though it's sometimes hard to distinguish valuable prep from procrastination.

Now I'm itching to plunge into the first draft and start writing. I've held back and held back and held back, giving myself every possible opportunities to identify issues and problems, such as recognising superfluous characters [ditched another from the pilot last weekend after realising he was only in one scene and added nothing to that scene]. Read my scene by scene breakdown on the Stansted Express yesterday and spotted several scenes that simply aren't necessary.

Strange, isn't it, how you have to write something to realise you didn't need to write something? In your own mind you need to see how characters get from A to B, how they choose certain places for secret meetings or what they said in the car en route. But once those scenes are written, you realise you've written long and need to cut. So the front of some scenes get clipped, to get into the action quicker. The ends of other scenes get snipped, to cut away at the most dramatic moment and propel the script into the next sequence at maximum velocity.

Best of all, you discover whole scenes that can be excised. For example, my scene by scene had two characters meet outside a church. Fearful of being seen by others, they sneak into the church where sexual hijinks [cripes, does anybody say sexual hijinks out loud? That's almost as bad as lothario] ensue. Reading back my scene by scene yesterday, I realised the rendezvous outside the church was unnecessary. Just show the twosome sneaking inside, one expressing anxiety while the other swears it'll be alright. Making out in a church, what could go wrong, right?

Anyway, found lots of useful nips and tucks in my scene by scene, so those will get incorporated into the first draft. I've got 77 scenes for a 60-page TV pilot i.e. too many, so anything that can go, will go. Suspect I've watched too much soaps and been guilty of gratuitously cutting scenes into too many smaller scenes for the sake of it. Let's face it, soaps are usually at their most compelling when a show stops furiously cutting and focuses on a single scene for more than a minute. That's when you see what the characters are made of. That's when you get the juice.

Now, time for coffee.

Not a Voodo Child [but some Slight Return]

Back from St Andrews but it's a fleeting pitstop en route to That Fancy London for another session at the V&A's Museum of Childhood. Should be back Tuesday night, leaving me three days this working week to get some work done. Still got an issue of The Phantom to write, held over this week just gone. However, I got some good work done on the scene by scene for my screenwriting MA course final project. Itching to make a start on the script, which is always a good sign in my experience. Just got a few more details to nail down before I have to joy of finally writing some dialogue. Let's hope the characters sing to me. In the meantime, here's a YouTube tribute to the classic Doctor Who featuring a clip from all 160 stories. Enjoy!

'More human than human is our motto."

Right, off to St Andrews this morning, where the gulls where and cry 24/7. Back tomorrow afternoon, skillfully avoiding the opening day parade for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. So feel free to amuse yourselves in my absence. Try not to break any furniture or go blind while I'm gone. Should you need diversion, check out the trailer for Blade Runner: The Final Cut, coming soon to DVD. Aces.

Argh. Grappling. With. Scenes.

Decided to start working the storyline document for my screenwriting MA final project into a scene-by-scene breakdown yesterday. Thought I could whip it into shape before lunch, have a little snack and then dive into writing my 30th issue of The Phantom. Best laid plans and all that stomm. Come six in the afternoon [or is that already the evening?], I was still grappling with act two of my four act structure. so many choices, so many possibilities, so few decisions made. Argh. Argh. Argh. [Makes me sound like a pirate with a limited vocabulary, which probably isn't that far from the truth. Except I don't know what a mainbrace is, nor how to splice it.]

What was I talking about? Oh yes, my final project. Also seem to having some focus problems, keeping my mind on the job in hand. This could be a byproduct of cramming a lot of work into the previous days. I can go up to ramming speed when necessary and sustain it for several days, but sooner or later the wheels come off. Find myself recycling waste paper instead of doing whatever should be done next. Great for the environment, not so helpful for meeting deadlines or paying the bills. See what I mean? This whole paragraph is another damned digression. My mind, it does wander.

In four weeks I'm due to deliver my final project and I'd like to get two drafts done between now and then. That means I need to nail down my scene-by-scene first, and discover the gaps. I tossed a whole character out of my pilot script yesterday, after belatedly realising he turned up once, did nothing and then vanished. Sorry, son, if you're not pulling your weight you don't get on the page. Come back in episode two when you can make yourself useful. However, I'm throwing a new character into the mix to bolster one storyline, so that's got to be incorporated.

Away to St Andrews Saturday and Sunday, followed by a trip to That Fancy London on Monday and Tuesday, so the next four days are a wipeout workwise. [Don't expect a lot of hot blog action, either.] Still got my Phantom script to write, but am definitely in need to focus upon my final project from the end of next week.

I live in hope all this planning and preparation [or 'pre-writing' as some people will insist on calling it - bleurrgghhhh] will pay off come the moment I open Final Draft and start typing. My scenes will be laid out for me, my characters will emerge at least partially formed on to the page and it'll flow like something that flows surprisingly quickly but never gets out of control. Thin custard, or single cream. Rich, tasty and good on Christmas pudding.

Hmm, Christmas pudding. Who doesn't fancy a slice of that right now?

Well, a boy can dream, can't he? Can't he?

Thanks to Maggie for the link. Get your own here.

Jonathan Ross snogs Neil Gaiman

For anyone who hasn't seen this yet, here's Jonathan Ross and Neil Gaiman at the Eisner Awards last Friday in San Diego, paying tribute to Madonna and Britney's same sex kiss.

Charlie Brooker gets up on The Wire

If you've got a British ISP you can now watch a documentary about TV series The Wire for free on The Guardian's website. It's split in two parts and hosted by acerbic critic Charlie Brooker. Aces. But be prepared to be freaked out by the size of one person's head. Honestly, it's so big, it looks CGI-superimposed on a child's body. Shudder.

Taking pains, not staking pain

Welcome to the 1000th posting on Vicious Imagery, home of online ramblings and other work displacement activities by writing David Bishop. This blog is fast approaching 70,000 visitors since it was launched in October 2005. Can't say I've got any moments of blinding insight or genius to share with you today, so at least there's no change there then. Or there. But I'll endeavour to stumble across a theme or a notion as I go along, and maybe there'll be something worth reading along the way. You be the judge.

Two years ago I decided to change my life. Not in a Masterchef Goes Large kind of way, but more of a redirection of ambitions. I wasn't happy with my work. Not the jobs, but the challenges. I was writing novels, audio dramas, comics and articles - but none of it was pushing me. Making a comfortable living but not getting out of my comfort zone. Writers are like sharks, they need to keep moving. I didn't want to look at my career and hear Woody Allen saying, 'What we have here is a dead shark.'

So I choose to challenge myself. To set goals beyond what I was doing. I knew I wouldn't achieve them all, but better to aim high and miss than not take a shot. Applied for a two-day BBC Radio drama lab and got in. Applied for the new MA Screenwriting course at Screen Academy Scotland and got in. Felt I was getting somewhere but needed another push. Then Adrian Mead and Clare Kerr visited our class, and said something that made me sit up [I'll paraphrase].

Don't let the course happen to you. Don't just fulfill the minimum requirements. Grab every chance that comes by. Introduce yourself to guest speakers and make a positive impression. Network like crazy. Look beyond the course for opportunities. Identify what you really want to do and go after it. If you're not satisfied with what's on offer, say so. Don't sit in the cafeteria moaning, make things happen. Take responsibility for your writing, your ambitions, your future.

So I did. Realised I had far more interest in writing for TV drama than for films. Went along to two of Adrian's one-day seminars in Edinburgh. Got on a six-day writers' lab for BBC Radio drama. Secured nine months being mentored by Adrian in TV writing. Got selected for the TAPS script editing course. Went to London for the Script Factory's TV Forum event, and thoroughly enjoyed the same organisation's Storylining For Continuing Drama workshop. Even entered one of my scripts in an international screenwriting contest and it's gotten through to the semi-finals.

Inevitably, not everything has come off. Was one of many who applied for the BBC Writers' Academy but didn't make the cut. Applied for a job in the drama department at BBC Scotland and didn't get chosen. Wangled myself an invitation to write sample scenes for the BBC Scotland soap River City, but I'm still waiting for an answer eleven months later. Various other efforts are sat on desks, awaiting contemplation - another job application, a continuing drama writing workshop, and more.

And I've been plugging away at my screenwriting MA. Eight modules completed, eight distinctions, only the final project to do. It's due to be delivered in thirty days and I haven't started my first draft yet. Nor will I be able to for another week. Got a 5000 word feature to finish today, and an issue of The Phantom comic to write by Friday. Away in St Andrews this weekend. Away in London Monday and Tuesday. Come next Wednesday I have to hit the ground running on my final project. Want to make a good job of the last module, want to nail the dismount.

Come September I'll be back out in cold, wide world, joining the throngs of writers and wannabes looking for fresh opportunities. It's not that I've ever stopped looking while I've been going to Screen Academy Scotland, but the MA was an anchor for the past two years. Sometimes it felt like a safe harbour, other times it was a weight round my neck, stopping me from doing other things. That won't be factor or an excuse come September. It'll be something I've done.

The last two years have been about getting some of the tools I need to pursue a career in TV drama, be it as a writer, storyliner or script editor. I knew I needed to learn more, network work, discover more. I've started that process. It won't end when I finish my MA, but one phase will be over. Looking forward to seeing what the next phase will bring, and having a little extra pocket money to spend en route.