Reading back yesterday's blog posting about finding a balance between writing and a part-time job. another thought sprung to mind: I should count myself lucky to have gotten the job when I did. An awful lot of people are getting made redundant or not having their contracts renewed right now. The recession is biting hard across many areas, with devastating consequences. So having too much work? Not easy, yet something of a luxury too.
Spent yesterday researching horror films from the past hundred years, and digging out journal articles on the genre. Today it's writing time. I've got a lecture to map out, highlighting the key horror movies of the 20th Century and illuminating current trends in the genre. Hollywood remakes of international hits and the torture porn sub-genre are likely to get more than a few mentions, as they've dominated recent releases in this field.
One thing has stood out clearly: for the past forty or fifty years, Hollywood has been following others when it comes to horror. Indie filmmakers are the ones who have pushed the genre forward, as evidenced by features like Night of the Living Dead, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Halloween, The Evil Dead, The Blair Witch Project and Saw. It's hard to think of a horror film made by Hollywood since the 60s that's broken any new ground.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Slammed, but coming up for air
Been a slammed few weeks and the next few look just as busy. The new creative writing MA I've been helping develop at Edinburgh Napier University went for validation last week and got approved, subject to minor changes. We're already taking applications and the course is getting some national attention [click here and here for examples]. So that's good.
But finding a balance between the course, my part-time job at the university and my writing is proving tricky. Spent much of yesterday marking assessments when I should have been writing. Going to be spending today and tomorrow developing a guest lecture on horror films when I should be doing my own writing. Back to Napier on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday when I'm only meant to be in 2.5 days a week. And so it goes, bleeding outwards.
Even next week when I'm only going in for one day the course will be eating my spare time. I'm heading down to Bradford on Friday to spent the Easter weekend promoting the course at Eastercon LX, the British science fiction convention. I'm doing research for an academic paper to be present in Belgium at the end of May. Throw in tutorials, sitting in on lectures and all the admin - finding that balance is proving harder than I thought.
But you know what? I took the job. I knew there'd be teething troubles, moments when it all threatened to overwhelm what I'm trying to do writing-wise. I've got to be firm about dividing my time from Napier time. More than ever, I have to be disciplined about carving out space for writing - and space for living. I refuse to let my part-time job become an excuse for not pursuing my goals, objective, ambitions or dreams as a writer.
If that means writing from 6.30 every morning for two hours before going to work, so be it. If that means coming home and writing for another three hours in the evening after work, so be it. If you want to succeed, you have to be willing to make sacrifices. Whining about too much work won't get the job done. Nobody owes you a living as a writer, the world isn't holding its breath for your stories. You have to make time.
You have to write with all the heart and talent and craft and brains that you've got. You have to push yourself to do better, challenge yourself to come up with a better line of dialogue, a better scene, a better story. You've got to make things happen, take responsibility for your successes and failures, validate yourself through the work you do. Don't expect competitions or prizes or acclaim to make you a complete person as a writer.
It's all on you just like it's all on me - so make it happen. Onwards!
But finding a balance between the course, my part-time job at the university and my writing is proving tricky. Spent much of yesterday marking assessments when I should have been writing. Going to be spending today and tomorrow developing a guest lecture on horror films when I should be doing my own writing. Back to Napier on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday when I'm only meant to be in 2.5 days a week. And so it goes, bleeding outwards.
Even next week when I'm only going in for one day the course will be eating my spare time. I'm heading down to Bradford on Friday to spent the Easter weekend promoting the course at Eastercon LX, the British science fiction convention. I'm doing research for an academic paper to be present in Belgium at the end of May. Throw in tutorials, sitting in on lectures and all the admin - finding that balance is proving harder than I thought.
But you know what? I took the job. I knew there'd be teething troubles, moments when it all threatened to overwhelm what I'm trying to do writing-wise. I've got to be firm about dividing my time from Napier time. More than ever, I have to be disciplined about carving out space for writing - and space for living. I refuse to let my part-time job become an excuse for not pursuing my goals, objective, ambitions or dreams as a writer.
If that means writing from 6.30 every morning for two hours before going to work, so be it. If that means coming home and writing for another three hours in the evening after work, so be it. If you want to succeed, you have to be willing to make sacrifices. Whining about too much work won't get the job done. Nobody owes you a living as a writer, the world isn't holding its breath for your stories. You have to make time.
You have to write with all the heart and talent and craft and brains that you've got. You have to push yourself to do better, challenge yourself to come up with a better line of dialogue, a better scene, a better story. You've got to make things happen, take responsibility for your successes and failures, validate yourself through the work you do. Don't expect competitions or prizes or acclaim to make you a complete person as a writer.
It's all on you just like it's all on me - so make it happen. Onwards!
Friday, March 27, 2009
I didn't win the Red Planet Prize...
...but I'd have been stunned and even dismayed if I had. Why? My first ten pages were polished so hard they shined, full of great little character moments and bloody good button to finish, even if I say so myself. That got my script enough love to make the second round, where some 70 writers were asked to submit their complete script [from more than 1000 entrants]. Only one problem - I hadn't actually finished writing the whole script. Arsebiscuits.
It's not like I had nothing. FAMILIES AT WAR started life as a 60-page pilot, written as the final project for my screenwriting MA. A subsequent polish knocked it down to 50 pages, before a total rewrite took it right down to 28 pages. That was what I submitted as my sample for the BBC Writers' Academy last year. [I've been told that version went a long way through the selection process, but got set aside for being too soapy, not bold enough.]
When Red Planet announced it was looking for TV pilot scripts, I spent two months getting nowhere on new projects. Eventually I saw the light and gave the first ten pages of FAMILIES AT WAR a high sheen polish, so it damn well gleamed. That's what got me to the second round two months later, and a request for the full script. Stupidly, I hadn't believed my work was good enough to make the cut, so I never progressed rewriting the rest of it.
The email from Red Planet asking for the rest of my script soon put a stop to that. I spent the next four days working round the clock to create a new script that did its best to deliver the promise of those first ten pages. But I still love my story and characters - they'll find a home one day, one way or another. What lessons have I learnt from this experience? An unfinished rewrite is no use to anybody, and have more faith in myself.
Congratulations to the writer who has won, and to all the other scribes who made the second round. Apparently some amongst us will be invited to workshops during the summer, with the chosen few to be notified.
It's not like I had nothing. FAMILIES AT WAR started life as a 60-page pilot, written as the final project for my screenwriting MA. A subsequent polish knocked it down to 50 pages, before a total rewrite took it right down to 28 pages. That was what I submitted as my sample for the BBC Writers' Academy last year. [I've been told that version went a long way through the selection process, but got set aside for being too soapy, not bold enough.]
When Red Planet announced it was looking for TV pilot scripts, I spent two months getting nowhere on new projects. Eventually I saw the light and gave the first ten pages of FAMILIES AT WAR a high sheen polish, so it damn well gleamed. That's what got me to the second round two months later, and a request for the full script. Stupidly, I hadn't believed my work was good enough to make the cut, so I never progressed rewriting the rest of it.
The email from Red Planet asking for the rest of my script soon put a stop to that. I spent the next four days working round the clock to create a new script that did its best to deliver the promise of those first ten pages. But I still love my story and characters - they'll find a home one day, one way or another. What lessons have I learnt from this experience? An unfinished rewrite is no use to anybody, and have more faith in myself.
Congratulations to the writer who has won, and to all the other scribes who made the second round. Apparently some amongst us will be invited to workshops during the summer, with the chosen few to be notified.
Monday, March 23, 2009
FP mega-signing for TPO was a blast
Had a great time in That Fancy London over the weekend. The Forbidden Planet megastore signing session to launch THRILL-POWER OVERLOAD as a paperback was fun, busy and bustling. Caught up with writers and artists I hadn't seen for years, lots of juicy gossip [none of which I can repeat in public - sorry]. Also chanced into several old friends, spent most of Sunday talking about writing, and finished reading Rebecca on the plane home. Aces.
This week's got crazy schedule written all over it. Writing a lecture on war films and contemporary Hollywood today. Tomorrow it's a 19-hour round trip to Brighton for the penultimate Lighthouse TV drama team writing workshop. On Wednesday the new creative writing MA I've been helping develop goes for official validation [keep your fingers crossed for us]. Thursday I gave my first lecture. Friday - I can't remember. More stuff happens.
The website news page for SFX is running a story about the MA course at the moment - read it here. We've already had a fistful of applications and marketing has only just begun. There's been a steady stream of people coming to see us at the Craighouse campus in Edinburgh, eager to find out more. We're offering something different from the usual mix of literary fiction and poetry on other creative writing MA course - and it's proving popular.
Right, no more time for idle typing. There's a lecture to be written, war clips to be selected and no time to waste. Onwards!
This week's got crazy schedule written all over it. Writing a lecture on war films and contemporary Hollywood today. Tomorrow it's a 19-hour round trip to Brighton for the penultimate Lighthouse TV drama team writing workshop. On Wednesday the new creative writing MA I've been helping develop goes for official validation [keep your fingers crossed for us]. Thursday I gave my first lecture. Friday - I can't remember. More stuff happens.
The website news page for SFX is running a story about the MA course at the moment - read it here. We've already had a fistful of applications and marketing has only just begun. There's been a steady stream of people coming to see us at the Craighouse campus in Edinburgh, eager to find out more. We're offering something different from the usual mix of literary fiction and poetry on other creative writing MA course - and it's proving popular.
Right, no more time for idle typing. There's a lecture to be written, war clips to be selected and no time to waste. Onwards!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
TPO signing at FP megastore in London today
Right, off to London for the TPO mega-signing at the Forbidden Planet mega-store. Back late tomorrow night, so I'm hoping to blog about the experience on Monday. Onwards!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Wolverine gives a new meaning to ****job
Looking at the photo above, you can't help thinking that's an unfortunate place to position a plastic gasket. But somebody in America has apparently taken this bad positioning in quite another way. There's an insane rant online that accuses Marvel of creating this product to promote a gay agenda. I've no idea if the rant is genuine - judge for yourselves. Warning: contents of rant could be offensive if you're gay, lesbian or have a brain.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Eye of the hurricane, or calm between storms
The last few weeks have been a helter skelter of deadlines, late nights and stress inducing moments. The next couple of weeks are going to be much the same, as I prep and deliver my first lectures, the creative writing MA course goes for validation and much more besides. So today and tomorrow are an oasis of calm amid the mayhem and madness. A time to catch breath, pause for thought and clear the decks of any other cliches lying around the place.
I'm going down to That Fancy London this weekend for the TPO paperback edition signing at Forbidden Planet on Saturday afternoon (1-2.30 pm, fact fans). Seeing friends later than night, but have got Sunday afternoon going spare. So, any other bloggers want to meet up for a drink and a natter on Sunday afternoon? Short notice and deadlines may make this impossible, but the comments section is open for [non-obscene] suggestions right about... now.
Decided to enter the British Short Screenplay Competition this year - a first for me. I've got a couple of scripts that fit the criteria and are never likely to get made otherwise, so the BSSC's first prize of having your screenplay produced is perfect. Something of a longshot, bearing in mind how many people enter, but still perfect. Early deadline is this Friday and I actually have the fee, so that's a job for these two days. Onwards.
I'm going down to That Fancy London this weekend for the TPO paperback edition signing at Forbidden Planet on Saturday afternoon (1-2.30 pm, fact fans). Seeing friends later than night, but have got Sunday afternoon going spare. So, any other bloggers want to meet up for a drink and a natter on Sunday afternoon? Short notice and deadlines may make this impossible, but the comments section is open for [non-obscene] suggestions right about... now.
Decided to enter the British Short Screenplay Competition this year - a first for me. I've got a couple of scripts that fit the criteria and are never likely to get made otherwise, so the BSSC's first prize of having your screenplay produced is perfect. Something of a longshot, bearing in mind how many people enter, but still perfect. Early deadline is this Friday and I actually have the fee, so that's a job for these two days. Onwards.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Getting there, one step at a time
The last few weeks have been jammed, both with paying jobs and speculative writing. Got my 40th script for Egmont's Phantom comic away, the second half of a fun two-parter. Wrote the first draft of a talking book, incorporating a blizzard of metafictionality. Scripted the first draft of my Lighthouse project script, sixty pages in seven days. Plus a script report for Scottish Screen, a fistful of ideas for Doctors and grud knows what else.
But the rest of March looks even more slammed, suggesting I'll be a frizzled-frazzled mess of nothing by the time April arrives. I'm researching and writing two 120-minute lectures for an undergraduate module on contemporary Hollywood cinema. Got another day trip to Brighton and back for the Lighthouse workshop. A fistful of tutorials to lead. Rewrites loom on the talking book. Another draft of my Lighthouse script to write. And so on...
Not to mention a round trip to London for the THRILL-POWER OVERLOAD signing event at the Forbidden Planet Megastore. That's Saturday March 21st from 1pm. Loads of artists sketching, writers talking and what have you. Should be a blast!
But the rest of March looks even more slammed, suggesting I'll be a frizzled-frazzled mess of nothing by the time April arrives. I'm researching and writing two 120-minute lectures for an undergraduate module on contemporary Hollywood cinema. Got another day trip to Brighton and back for the Lighthouse workshop. A fistful of tutorials to lead. Rewrites loom on the talking book. Another draft of my Lighthouse script to write. And so on...
Not to mention a round trip to London for the THRILL-POWER OVERLOAD signing event at the Forbidden Planet Megastore. That's Saturday March 21st from 1pm. Loads of artists sketching, writers talking and what have you. Should be a blast!
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
It's tricky [as yet untouched by Jason Nevins]
Hit my target of page 50 for the Lighthouse project script yesterday, but ground to a halt at the end. Realised I didn't know how to get my heroes to their final confrontation with the Big Bad. There are plenty of obvious options, but I want one that comes naturally from the script. That means it's time to print and review my work thus far, remind myself what I've done and where that suggests I should go. Then it's a mad dash to page 60.
The Lighthouse TV drama team writing project is a fascinating process. Six writers are selected and each pitches a series idea to the group. After further development one is chosen from the six, with the originator expected to write the pilot episode. The others develop a subsequent episode that fits the series template, yet also works as a standalone script in its own right. Why? So it's useful as a calling card to promote them as writers.
Thanks to my love of serialised storytelling, I concocted an all-guns-blazing plotline that could only ever be the series finale - and that's what I'm writing now. Guess if I'd been cannier, I would have developed an idea that worked better as a standalone. But it's too late to worry about that now. My job for the rest of this week is making my first draft the best it can be. Deadline for delivery is noon on Thursday, no time to waste. Onwards!
The Lighthouse TV drama team writing project is a fascinating process. Six writers are selected and each pitches a series idea to the group. After further development one is chosen from the six, with the originator expected to write the pilot episode. The others develop a subsequent episode that fits the series template, yet also works as a standalone script in its own right. Why? So it's useful as a calling card to promote them as writers.
Thanks to my love of serialised storytelling, I concocted an all-guns-blazing plotline that could only ever be the series finale - and that's what I'm writing now. Guess if I'd been cannier, I would have developed an idea that worked better as a standalone. But it's too late to worry about that now. My job for the rest of this week is making my first draft the best it can be. Deadline for delivery is noon on Thursday, no time to waste. Onwards!
Monday, March 09, 2009
Threading the needle of narrative stuff
Spent Friday night, much of Saturday and most of Sunday progressing the first draft of my script for the Lighthouse TV drama team writing project. Managed to get from one third of the way through to two thirds done. That doesn't sound like much, but I find the middle of any project the most problematic. Some writers struggle with endings, others don't know where to start. Me, I get bogged down when the story swells to its widest part.
You reach a point in the middle of any multi-stranded narrative where everything's pulling in different directions. The characters have splintered apart, every single one of the plot strands is crying out for attention and progression. It's the top of the bell curve, the most crowded part of the story, a juggling act to maintain momentum and excitement. Get past that point and everything should start accelerating towards the finish line.
So that was my weekend, getting over the story hump. It was punctuated with a joyful epiphany on Friday night, as I decided to throw a character over a balcony to their death. They stayed dead until Saturday afternoon, when I decided to offer some slight hope of survival. Bones crushed, back probably broken, years of pain and misery to come - but they might get out of this script alive. Meanwhile other characters are showing their colours.
Found a voice for one of the core cast: she speaks like Clint Eastwood. Taciturn as hell, less is more, a sound like gravel and cement colliding. Good find. And the best scenes are still to come, as the thrill-ride speeds towards an almighty showdown. Last but not least, I should mention my soundtrack for this script. When I'm working on particular projects, I select a particular music to accompany my writing, acting as an aural prompt.
For this script I have mostly been listening to When David Heard, a choral piece by modern American composer Eric Whitacre. By happy chance I went to a concert a few weeks ago where this was performed by 170 singers and it was absolutely electrifying. It's proven a powerful accompaniment to my writing, full of power and pathos. For some scenes I have to turn it off, unless the music would overwhelm the script, but it's been a massive help.
I've only got today and tomorrow to finish my rough first draft, as I'm back into work at Edinburgh Napier University on Wednesday. Deadline for delivery is midday Thursday, so that leaves me just Wednesday night and Thursday morning to polish the first draft, before firing it off to the rest of the Lighthouse team. Today will be all about keeping my arse in the chair, my mind on the job and my eyes of the prize. The end's in sight. Onwards!
You reach a point in the middle of any multi-stranded narrative where everything's pulling in different directions. The characters have splintered apart, every single one of the plot strands is crying out for attention and progression. It's the top of the bell curve, the most crowded part of the story, a juggling act to maintain momentum and excitement. Get past that point and everything should start accelerating towards the finish line.
So that was my weekend, getting over the story hump. It was punctuated with a joyful epiphany on Friday night, as I decided to throw a character over a balcony to their death. They stayed dead until Saturday afternoon, when I decided to offer some slight hope of survival. Bones crushed, back probably broken, years of pain and misery to come - but they might get out of this script alive. Meanwhile other characters are showing their colours.
Found a voice for one of the core cast: she speaks like Clint Eastwood. Taciturn as hell, less is more, a sound like gravel and cement colliding. Good find. And the best scenes are still to come, as the thrill-ride speeds towards an almighty showdown. Last but not least, I should mention my soundtrack for this script. When I'm working on particular projects, I select a particular music to accompany my writing, acting as an aural prompt.
For this script I have mostly been listening to When David Heard, a choral piece by modern American composer Eric Whitacre. By happy chance I went to a concert a few weeks ago where this was performed by 170 singers and it was absolutely electrifying. It's proven a powerful accompaniment to my writing, full of power and pathos. For some scenes I have to turn it off, unless the music would overwhelm the script, but it's been a massive help.
I've only got today and tomorrow to finish my rough first draft, as I'm back into work at Edinburgh Napier University on Wednesday. Deadline for delivery is midday Thursday, so that leaves me just Wednesday night and Thursday morning to polish the first draft, before firing it off to the rest of the Lighthouse team. Today will be all about keeping my arse in the chair, my mind on the job and my eyes of the prize. The end's in sight. Onwards!
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Before you go see Watchmen...
...watch this version which recreates Watchmen as an early 80s Saturday morning cartoon. Genius, I tell you - genius!
Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy
I was due to pay the balance of my income tax by January 31, as is usual with self assessment for the self-employed. But declining revenue and rising expenses meant I was tapped out at the time - Her Majesty's Revenue & Customs would simply have to wait. Thanks to a combination of various freelance jobs paying off [and my new part-time job as a creative writing lecturer], I was able post a cheque this morning to settle the account in full.
Three hours later the post arrived with a stern letter from - you guessed it - Her Majesty's Revenue & Customs. A self assessment final demand, no less. To hammer home the point, there was lots of bold red ink. [It would have been nice if the words "Danger, Will Robinson, danger!" had been audible when I opened the envelope, but you can't have everything.] The gist of the letter was simple: my payment was late. Yep, knew that, thanks.
The letter continued: If Her Majesty's Revenue & Customs didn't receive the amount overdue by 28 February it would be adding a further 5% surcharge to the amount owed. I knew that was coming as well, so no alarms, no surprises there. But hang about - if they didn't receive the amount by 28 February? Today is March the 5th. Having received this letter, how was I meant to comply with its contents? Use my time machine to turn back history?
A glance to the top of the page reveals the date this letter was supposedly outputted: 16 February. Now, I know second class post isn't expected to be as fast as first class, but does it really take 17 days for a second class letter to get from Stockton On Tees to Biggar in southern Scotland? Happily, I added extra to my cheque to cover the interest charge for lateness. Let's just hope it gets to the payment office sooner rather than later.
Three hours later the post arrived with a stern letter from - you guessed it - Her Majesty's Revenue & Customs. A self assessment final demand, no less. To hammer home the point, there was lots of bold red ink. [It would have been nice if the words "Danger, Will Robinson, danger!" had been audible when I opened the envelope, but you can't have everything.] The gist of the letter was simple: my payment was late. Yep, knew that, thanks.
The letter continued: If Her Majesty's Revenue & Customs didn't receive the amount overdue by 28 February it would be adding a further 5% surcharge to the amount owed. I knew that was coming as well, so no alarms, no surprises there. But hang about - if they didn't receive the amount by 28 February? Today is March the 5th. Having received this letter, how was I meant to comply with its contents? Use my time machine to turn back history?
A glance to the top of the page reveals the date this letter was supposedly outputted: 16 February. Now, I know second class post isn't expected to be as fast as first class, but does it really take 17 days for a second class letter to get from Stockton On Tees to Biggar in southern Scotland? Happily, I added extra to my cheque to cover the interest charge for lateness. Let's just hope it gets to the payment office sooner rather than later.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Unleashing the torrent after months of prep
This week I have mostly been writing the first draft of my Lighthouse TV drama team-writing project. As a collective we've been developing our putative series since October - defining the show and its rules, choosing and honing our characters, finding and fine-tuning our individual plotlines. After months of talking and blizzards of emails, it's a relief to finally be writing some script pages, to crack open Final Draft and let rip.
My target is to get a rough-as-guts first draft down by next Monday, working around my part-time job at Edinburgh Napier University. [Used to be plain old Napier University, changed its name last week. These things happen.] I'm a third of the way through after two days, which is good progress - I always find opening pages the hardest part. It's like the first tentative chips of a carver, searching for the shape inside their chosen block of stone.
Our tutor Phil Palmer likes scripts for original series to have four things: brains, heart, legs and poetry. He wants it to be smart and clever, display some feelings and depth of emotion, to show the potential for a long-running series - and to have a little lyricism in its writing. It's the last of these that comes hardest to me. I once had an editor tell me I've no poetry in my soul, and that's kind of haunted my writing ever since.
The closest I get to poetic writing is the odd moment of magic realism and a tendency to create Gothic fairytale narratives. That's not really gonna fly in the series we're inventing on the Lighthouse project. So I suspect my writing on this will tend more towards the clipped and lean. Phil has a charming phrase for this: it should move like shit off a shovel. That's meant to be a positive thing, I think!
A quick thank you to all the Vicious Imagery readers who've sponsored my wife on her Race For Life run round Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh this June. She still needs another £100 or so to meet her target, so everybody else can still go here to chip in a few quid. Right, must dash. It snowed overnight and I need to defrost the car before I can drive to work. Onwards!
My target is to get a rough-as-guts first draft down by next Monday, working around my part-time job at Edinburgh Napier University. [Used to be plain old Napier University, changed its name last week. These things happen.] I'm a third of the way through after two days, which is good progress - I always find opening pages the hardest part. It's like the first tentative chips of a carver, searching for the shape inside their chosen block of stone.
Our tutor Phil Palmer likes scripts for original series to have four things: brains, heart, legs and poetry. He wants it to be smart and clever, display some feelings and depth of emotion, to show the potential for a long-running series - and to have a little lyricism in its writing. It's the last of these that comes hardest to me. I once had an editor tell me I've no poetry in my soul, and that's kind of haunted my writing ever since.
The closest I get to poetic writing is the odd moment of magic realism and a tendency to create Gothic fairytale narratives. That's not really gonna fly in the series we're inventing on the Lighthouse project. So I suspect my writing on this will tend more towards the clipped and lean. Phil has a charming phrase for this: it should move like shit off a shovel. That's meant to be a positive thing, I think!
A quick thank you to all the Vicious Imagery readers who've sponsored my wife on her Race For Life run round Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh this June. She still needs another £100 or so to meet her target, so everybody else can still go here to chip in a few quid. Right, must dash. It snowed overnight and I need to defrost the car before I can drive to work. Onwards!
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Sharpening the axe at ITV
Britain's leading commercial terrestrial TV channel is due to announce last year's financial results, along with a plan for the way ahead. 2008 was not a brilliant twelve months for ITV, and the next few years look worse. Advertising revenue is down, thanks to the rise of the internet and multi-channel digital viewing. The recession and stock market instability are helping to create a pension fund black hole. All in all, things ain't too pretty.
Jobs losses look likely [ditto rival channel Five, where a third of the workforce is facing a cull]. The programme budget is up for grabs, after being considered sacrosanct for years. What does this mean for TV drama, my area of particular interest? Long-running shows are getting axed [Wire in the Blood] or production mothballed [Heartbeat, The Royal] with no likely return date. Belts tighten, opportunities shrink by the day.
In truth these troubles won't be evident on screen for a while. There's a backlog of material waiting to be screened, with enough Heartbeart and The Royal in stock to keep Sunday nights cosy well into 2010. The crunch could show up in other places first. How long can shows like Emmerdale [six episodes a week] and Coronation Street [five] sustain output with ever-shrinking budgets? You can only stretch resources so far before something snaps.
Two Septembers ago I went for a storylining job at Emmerdale. Didn't get the gig, but spent a fascinating day at the Leeds production office. It's looking likely that building could be mothballed, and the Emmerdale team relocated to their exterior sets outside Leeds. That's going to affect hundreds, even thousands of people when you factor in all the ancilliary staff and services. Spare a thought for them as you read tomorrow's headlines.
Meanwhile the BBC is fast emerging as the only game in town for new TV drama. Channel 4 is grappling with its own financial black hole, while Five has never been much of a factor for British-made drama. Ironically, children's TV is looking vaguely healthy again after several years when it seemed dead and buried. Niche digital channels are proving there is a future for new shows. So there is hope, but you'd better be ready to play the long game.
Jobs losses look likely [ditto rival channel Five, where a third of the workforce is facing a cull]. The programme budget is up for grabs, after being considered sacrosanct for years. What does this mean for TV drama, my area of particular interest? Long-running shows are getting axed [Wire in the Blood] or production mothballed [Heartbeat, The Royal] with no likely return date. Belts tighten, opportunities shrink by the day.
In truth these troubles won't be evident on screen for a while. There's a backlog of material waiting to be screened, with enough Heartbeart and The Royal in stock to keep Sunday nights cosy well into 2010. The crunch could show up in other places first. How long can shows like Emmerdale [six episodes a week] and Coronation Street [five] sustain output with ever-shrinking budgets? You can only stretch resources so far before something snaps.
Two Septembers ago I went for a storylining job at Emmerdale. Didn't get the gig, but spent a fascinating day at the Leeds production office. It's looking likely that building could be mothballed, and the Emmerdale team relocated to their exterior sets outside Leeds. That's going to affect hundreds, even thousands of people when you factor in all the ancilliary staff and services. Spare a thought for them as you read tomorrow's headlines.
Meanwhile the BBC is fast emerging as the only game in town for new TV drama. Channel 4 is grappling with its own financial black hole, while Five has never been much of a factor for British-made drama. Ironically, children's TV is looking vaguely healthy again after several years when it seemed dead and buried. Niche digital channels are proving there is a future for new shows. So there is hope, but you'd better be ready to play the long game.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Progress check for March 2009
First off, thanks to the two Vicious Imagery readers who chipped in some sponsorship money to my wife's Run For Life efforts - much appreciated. On the other hand, more than 1000 unique visitors have come to this blog since I posted that appeal last week. So two people out of more than a thousand isn't a great response rate. I know we're all feeling the pinch financially, but chipping in two quid would kill you? Go here and make a difference.
Having given myself a talking to a couple of weeks back, I've gotten some good work done. Write my 40th issue of The Phantom, and completed the first draft of a talking book project for Big Finish. Can't reveal any more details about the latter job yet, but it proved to be more fun than I'd expected. Things move apace at my part-time job developing a new MA in Creative Writing at Edinburgh Napier University, as validation day beckons.
This week's major task is my first draft for the Lighthouse TV drama team writing project. Having spent months developing characters, weaving intricate plot threads and defining our rules, it's both scary and exciting to finally start scripting. Got to find the voice of our shared characters, discover a writing style that suits the piece and throw some rough scenes down. Get it written first, then get it right in rewrites. As ever - onwards!
Having given myself a talking to a couple of weeks back, I've gotten some good work done. Write my 40th issue of The Phantom, and completed the first draft of a talking book project for Big Finish. Can't reveal any more details about the latter job yet, but it proved to be more fun than I'd expected. Things move apace at my part-time job developing a new MA in Creative Writing at Edinburgh Napier University, as validation day beckons.
This week's major task is my first draft for the Lighthouse TV drama team writing project. Having spent months developing characters, weaving intricate plot threads and defining our rules, it's both scary and exciting to finally start scripting. Got to find the voice of our shared characters, discover a writing style that suits the piece and throw some rough scenes down. Get it written first, then get it right in rewrites. As ever - onwards!
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