Learning to let go of things from your past

Over at his Tearoom of Despair blog, Temuka Bob writes about how his collection has become an albatross that stops him doing excited things [like emigrating to the Caribbean!]. In Bob's case, that collection is comics. For other blokes, it might be vinyl or football memorabilia or classic car parts or something else. [Men and the collecting tendency, what's that all about?]

My name is David Bishop and I used to be collector. 'Because I might read it one day. Because I might need it one day.' Those two sentences - never spoken out loud, only in my head - saw me dragging an ever growing collection of longboxes around Britain for years. Why? Because I might enjoy them again one day, or need them for research. It was reassuring to have them at hand, even if they went untouched for years.

But when I finished hrill-Power Overload, my magnificent octopus detailing the secret history of iconic British science fiction comic 2000AD, I purged myself of almost every comic I own. A complete set of Dredd Megazines. A strong run of 2000ADs. Thousands of US comics. All sold or - if nobody would buy them - junked. If I buy or receive any new comics, I enjoy them once - and throw them away.

I do still buy the occasional graphic novel, but that's mostly nostalgia taking command of my wallet. As for monthly comics, I'm down to a single, half-empty longbox which only contains issues retained for sentimental reasons. The first comic I ever shoplifted, an issue of Luke Cage Power Man. My first issue of Cerebus, the heartbreakingly poignant #75. The daffy madness of Prez.

Selling or dumping your collection is a wonderfully liberating freedom. You get space back. Your life is no longer dominated by towering stacks of longboxes. You're not living in the past anymore. If you're not already in a relationship [with some long-suffering partner], no collection means you don't have to be embarrassed when you bring someone new home. Sad fact: you can't take it with you.

So here's my suggestion of the day: consider having a purge. Chuck out all the crap in your life that's holding you back. Throw out the past and embrace the future. Free yourself of your collection. Free your mind - and your ass will follow. Onwards!

Writing somebody else's story or characters

Professional writers more often than not find themselves writing somebody else's story or characters. There seems to be a collective perception that three in five films are adaptations, screenplays based on material from another source - books, plays, graphic novels, computer games, short stories, etc. I don't know how accurate that is, but the adapted screenplay category is always far more competitive at the Oscars.

When it comes to TV drama, the number of writers who only work on their own stories and characters is tiny. Scribes at the start of their careers can expect to pour their creative energies into pre-created shows. Continuing drama gives a lot of writers that vital gateway, a place to hone their skills while learning on the job. Few and far between is the emerging scribe who only writes their own inventions.

Computer games are even more prescriptive. Unless you own the computer or are a senior developer, you'll almost never get to create a game from scratch. Franchises and licensed properties dominate the market, all new games are the rarest of the rare. With millions of pounds and years of development work at stake, few companies will take a punt on your bright idea, no matter how great it might be.

Novels are perhaps the last great bastion of the originating writer, especially near the start of their career. You can invent a world, populate it with your characters and - with talent, luck and persistance - get it published. Your ideas, your tales, the offspring of your imagination all get transmitted direct into the minds of readers via ink on some pieces of dead tree [or pixels on an e-reader screen].

But even in book publishing, there's money to be made writing other people's characters and stories. You can novelise film screenplays or episodes from popular TV series, or create original stories based on characters and concepts from other storytelling media such as computer games, comics, TV dramas or role playing games. For many authors, this route offers their first chance of publication.

So here's a couple of guidelines for how to behave if you find yourself in any of the situations were you're temporary custodian of somebody else's story or characters. First off, don't break them. Best to think of your task as being invited to play with somebody else's toys or to drive their car. You're borrowing this, it's precious to them, so try to treat it with some car, okay?

Secondly, remember who's in charge. You own nothing in this equation, except whatever ideas and characters you've brought to the table. [In some fields, you won't even retain ownership of them - read your contract careful!] You are expendable, an ink-slinger for hire. That means you can be dumped as quickly as you got hired, and it'll probably happen quicker. So don't get too comfortable.

Thirdly, listen and learn. Do a good job and you might be invited back for another play with their toys. Bear in mind what you get out of the deal - payment, experience, a credit and the opportunity to learn. Plus you'll work with or for people who could be helpful to you in future at other places. All of these industries are small and word gets round, so play nice with the other kids.

Last, but certainly not least, respect yourself and your talent. If you feel you're being treated bady or exploited, you can always walk away, Renee. Yes, you may well be sacrificing money and it could lead to bad feelings. But if somebody's treating you like crap, chances are you don't want to work for that person again [or for somebody who employs them]. Take responsibility for yourself. Right - onwards!

Rant: why is STV run by a bunch of ****s?

Am going to get a bit sweary in this rant, so look away now if you find bad language offensive. Really. Leave this blog. Go elsewhere. Move along, nothing to see. Right, here goes...

Why is STV run by such a sad bunch of fucking useless c***s? Why do they insist on using captive viewers as pawn for their stupid fucking power games with ITV? What purpose does it serve to turn their back on popular and beloved TV dramas series that you can watch anywhere else in the UK?

It started back in March this year when STV opted out of screening the third series of detective drama Lewis. I couldn't understand why the Scottish broadcaster would cease and desist this immensely popular show. So I emailed STV, hoping for news that Lewis would be shown at a later date, at a different time. [This happens with BBC Scotland, which displaces shows in favour of local content. Displaced, but not dismissed.]

Here's what I got back from STV: stv will not be showing the new series of Lewis. Throughout 2009, we plan to opt out of the ITV Network more frequently, taking control of our schedule and introducing more Scottish-produced programmes and acquired series that will hold wide appeal across the country. We will be rolling out more exciting stv programming initiatives in the next few months, which we hope you will enjoy.

Sounds interesting, at least. But the reality's been very different - a handful of local interest documentaries, some tired Scottish films getting their umpteenth repeat - and a load of cheap, imported shite. The America version of Cracker [made in 1997]! Sundry Irish cop dramas, all them at least five years old. And old episodes of South Park, dotted around the schedule like unexpected animal turds.

If it had just been Lewis, I would have huffed and puffed but soon gotten over it. [Each new series of Lewis gets a swift DVD release, so there was hope on the horizon.] But the opt-outs continued, even accelerated. The Bill gets a zingy new look relaunch? Not in areas north of the border served by STV [i.e. nearly all of Scotland]. New episodes of Marple? Nope. The Fixer? Nope. Blue Murder. Nope.

Tonight the new series of Doc Martin launches - but not on STV. Instead we're getting Roman Polanski's film The Pianist. Again. Very fucking Scottish, I'm sure. Plus it's split in half with a news bulletin, because that's always such a popular move with viewers. STV, you c***s. I want my fucking drama back! I want new shows, shows from this decade, at least - not any old shite you pick up cheap.

By now, anybody still reading this rant will be wondering why I don't watch ITV's London feed via Sky. Or Freeview. Or on cable. Because we can't get Sky [thanks to interference from trees over which we have no authority]. Because we can't get the Freeview signal. And cable doesn't extend outside most cities in Scotland. All we get is the FUCKING, COCK-SUCKING SHITE BETTER KNOWN AS S-PISS-T-POOR-V.

I hear the entire STV drama department has been laid off, including the wonderful Eric Coulter. So all that money STV is saving by opting out of ITV network shows? Certainly not being spent on new Scottish drama. You want new TV drama of any kind? Try a DVD instead. Watch the BBC. Watch iPlayer. Just don't bother watching STV. They can't be bothered showing any drama anymore. None worth watching, anyway. C***s.

One, two and three years onwards

Yesterday completed the first week of actual teaching on the new creative writing MA at Edinburgh Napier University. [Wekk One was all about induction, matriculation and creating some esprit de corps among our first cohort.] Feels like something fried my brain with a little butter and some herbs, plenty a little crushed garlic as well. But now that's done, it's time to get back to my own writing.

This blog is fast approaching its fourth birthday [my, how time flies]. I started it as a way of tracking the progress of my quest to become a screenwriter. The first two years were sometimes dominated by the screenwriting MA I was studying part-time at Napier. This week I've been advising my creative writing students to consider starting their own blogs, as a reality check on their progress and aspirations.

So, what I was doing this time last year? I sent off my entry for the Red Planet Prize, the first ten pages of a WWII home front soap I'd originally developed during my MA. That had a happy outcome, as Families At War was eventually selected as one of the runners-up for the RPP. I was also awaiting notes for a second draft of my Doctor Who audio, Enemy of the Daleks - and that turned out pretty good.

Two years ago? September 2007 saw me finish my screenwriting MA [with Distinction, I later discovered]. A short film script I'd developed on the course won a first prize in that year's Page International Screenwriting Awards. I was racing deadlines to finish my script for the TAPS continuing drama workshop. Plus I was convinced getting an agent was an essential step to progressing my career objectives.

Well, the TAPS script came to nothing. I didn't make the next round, though everyone else I knew at the workshop weekend did [eight of them!]. In truth, I knew my script would never make the cut. It required stunt work, two fights, a stabbing, copious amounts of blood - all things that the filming format for chosen projects precludes. I still like my script, and plan to rewrite it for radio one day.

Didn't get anywhere seeking an agent in 2007 - and it hasn't obviously hurt my career. No doubt there are doors which haven't been open to me, but I'm not sure I was ready for those opportunities anyway. Push is coming to shove on a particular project of mine and I may soon need the sort of advice only an agent can offer. So my quest from 2007 could be revisited before the end of this year.

Two years on from winning a first prize at the Page Awards, DANNY'S TOYS isn't any closer to being made. An Edinburgh animation producer got interested in the project for a while, but development funding wasn't forthcoming so that fell by the wayside. In the meantime I've got another short film script in the finals of this year's Page Awards - winners due to be announced on October 1st.

Three years ago I was eagerly waiting for news from River City about a script sample I'd written for them at the start of September 2006. [Dozens of writers were part of this initiative.] We'd all written our samples over the space of a weekend, and were told feedback would be with us inside a week. It took another year before everyone got rejected. Boy, did that leave a sour taste in the mouth.

I was a year into my screenwriting MA, and starting a madcap year of juggling the degree course, half a dozen different workshops and nine months of being mentored by Adrian Mead. Looking back, I took on waaaaaaaaaaaay too much and some of my work suffered as a consequence. But fast-tracking the learning process has paid off since then, so I guess it was worth the sleepless nights and poverty.

What else was I doing in September 2006? Finishing my first fantasy novel, a police procedural set in Games Workshop's Warhammer universe. I later wrote a second novel wih the same characters, but slight sales mean I'll probably never get to finish the loosely linked trilogy of tales I had planned. Such is life. You don't always have the satisfaction of finishing every story you start writing.

This, that and a bit of the other. Yes, that one

As a writer, you sometimes have to wonder WTF is going on inside your subconscious. Where do those strange ideas and bizarre moments that creep into your stories come from, hmm? There's no easy answer to that, so it's probably left unasked. I'm just happy ideas come. Figure they're better on the page than festering in my head. [Strange but true: crime writers are the nicest people you'll ever meet.]

Been having some powerful strange dreams of late, but these can throw an occasional story idea out of the slumbering. Stranger still, I woke up with a ditty in my head. David Sylvian's mournful new album must still be exercising my noggin, as this was on my lips where the alarm got me up at 5.45am [to the tune of Daydream Believer by The Monkees, if you feel like singing along]:

Cheer up Sylvian!
Don't you be so glum (you know)
Might never happen, buddy
Worse things at sea

In other news, I've belated discovered my scripts DANNY'S TOYS and THE WOMAN WHO SCREAMED BUTTERFLIES are in the first round of the British Short Screenplay Competition - along with many others. Numerous elimination rounds follow, before the winner's chosen. I'm hopeful for both scripts, as DANNY'S TOYS won another competition two years ago and TWWSB is a finalist in that same contest.

You might wonder why I've entered in the BSSC, since my scripts have already done well elsewhere. Simple: first prize is your story gets made. Winning other script contests is a nice ego boost and can sometimes led to other things, but only the BSSC guarantees your short gets shot. Scripts are written to be filmed, not read. Otherwise your efforts are about as much use as an unridden bicycle.

What else? Delivered another draft of my Doctors script, but it's not done yet. Once this episode gets locked, I'm back to square one in many ways, with no stories in the bank and no guarantees - but that's the nature of the beast. Hopefully my efforts will stand me in good stead, and I will have a first TV drama screenwriting credit to my name. Far from unique, but still a significant step forwards.

Right, enough wittering from me. I've got four thousand words of sample text to finish drafting today, and a local project meeting at 3.45pm that's liable to blow a big, fat hole in the middle of the afternoon, my most productive time of day. Onwards!

Hot, cool and where's the tune?

Some sage once said jazz comes in three broad categories: hot, cool and where's the tune? I'd argue the same applies to other music. iTunes UK's new additions for this week and there's a decidedly 80s feel. Bananarama are back with hot Hi-NRG disco stompers. Matt Bianco is all bossa-nova cool, while David Sylvian's new album Manafon is defiantly where's-the-tune?

Four tracks in and Manafon sounds more like recitative from the world's most depressing oratorio, or some bloke mumbling over the soundtrack for a Japanese horror film. Much as I enjoy Sylvian's more esoteric wibblings, I can't help pining for the occasional versus and chorus. Guess that's not where his head's at right now. Here's a video for the lead-off track, Small Metal Gods.

Our definitions of Classic TV Drama may differ

Looking for something on amazon.co.uk, I noticed a sidebar in the DVD section headed Classic TV Drama. Everybody's definition of what constitutes classic TV drama is always going to differ, but some of the shows included beggar belief. Have a look at the list and decide how many of these deserve to be called classics:

* All Creatures Great and Small
* Ballykissangel
* Band of Brothers
* Bergerac
* Bonekickers
* Boys from the Blackstuff
* Edge of Darkness
* Howard's Way
* Hustle
* John Le Carre
* Judge John Deed
* Life on Mars
* Singing Detective
* Robin Hood
* Spooks
* This Life

My own list would only include eight of these, and that's being generous in one or two cases. There's a few definite non-starters in my humble opinion [All Creatures Great and Small was entertaining, but classic TV drama?], and one or two suggestions that contradict all known common sense. Car-crash TV drama maybe, but not classic...

Judge Dredd: Stranger Than Truth

Next month I have a new audio drama out on download or CD from Big Finish Productions, called Stranger Than Truth. It's the first in a run of four Crime Chronicles by various scribes, featuring the future's toughest law enforcer, Judge Dredd. [Dredd appears every week in iconic British science fiction comic anthology 2000 AD.] Here's the official story blurb for this forthcoming release:

Captured and imprisoned by Judge Dredd, author Truman Kaput has spent years in the Mega-City One iso-cubes, his work banned. His crime: writing lurid detective novels in which assassin Slick Dickens repeatedly outwits the cowardly bully Judge Dredd. Now a New Truman Kaput novel is being serialised, and each chapter predicts an imminent murder with chilling accuracy.

Has Slick Dickens escaped the page to commit real crimes in Mega-City One? Is a serial killer using the chapters as templates for their crime? Where does fiction end and the truth start? Can Dredd stop the plot before his nemesis fulfils the finale of Slick Dickens: I Killed Judge Dredd?

I'll talk more about this story in a future blog posting. In the meantime, you can find out more and pre-order Stranger Than Truth.

Calm before the storm [except if you're outside]

It's blowing a gale outside, real sideways weather. We're catching the edge of some severe winds, things are worse further north in the Highlands of Scotland. After a particularly pish summer, autumn is waving its hands for attention. Days are getting shorter, it's dark when I get up in the morning and favourite scarves are being dug out of forgotten hiding places. In short: the end of 2009 is nigh.

Right now feels like the calm before the storm. On Thursday the first cohort of MA creative writing students arrives at Edinburgh Napier University, fresh-faced and eager to learn what they don't know and enhance the talents they already have. The past eight months have been a blur of module prep, applicant interviews, plans, dreams and wonderings. Now it's all about to happen.

I've got no idea what impact teaching will have on my writing. There'll be a time crush as I struggle to balance the part-time university job with a career as a working writer. No doubt teaching will be creatively draining, especially mentoring the students on their writing. But it should also be rewarding. There's a claim that those who learn most are the teachers, so I hope to discover plenty.

Been turning down some offers of work to keep my commitments light in the first few months. That goes against the grain after nine years of freelancing, but needs to be done. I took this job to have the financial freedom from writing gigs that paid the bills but didn't feed the soul. If you want to create stories worth telling, you can't take jobs just because they have a four figure sum attached to them.

In other news, the second draft of my Doctors script is under consideration. Notes could turn up at any time, requiring a third draft and fast. The nightmare scenario is the notes arrive on Thursday, about ten minutes after that first cohort of students. All you can do is shrug and get on with things. What will be, will be. [Doris Day I can cope with, just stop that bloody kid from whistling, Hitch.]

Into Glasgow tonight for a Tori Amos concert. This singer-songwriter has a kooky US version of Kate Bush persona. She's been around since the early 90s, going in and out of fashion. Saw her in concert at the Royal Albert Hall once. She played while riding her piano stool side saddle, dry humping the seat into submission. Wonder what she'll do tonight? Knowing Tori Amos, almost anything's possible. Onwards!

The Hurt Locker: yes, you can believe the hype

Went to see The Hurt Locker yesterday, a film about bomb disposal experts in Iraq. There's been no shortage of films about the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, but this is the first one I had any urge to see. Back near the start of this year I gave a lecture about war films to a class of undergrads on an English and Film module. It was researching that which first made me pay attention to The Hurt Locker.

The film was first seen at film festivals last year and got raves. A distributor picked it up for release in US cinemas, despite the fact films dealing with the war in Iraq have been box office poison. Screenwriter Mark Boal was a journalist who'd been embedded with troops in Iraq, which promised a gritty realism not found in a lot of war films. And then there was the director: Kathryn Bigelow.

Female directors don't get much of a shake, particularly in Hollywood. Don't believe me? Try naming five female film directors. Now name another five. If you can name another five, you're either an academic or an utter movie geek. Kathryn Bigelow doesn't make that many films, and she certainly doesn't make chick films or rom-coms. Her movies have got guts in abundance, plus plenty of heart and smarts.

Bigelow's features include influential vampire western Near Dark, the gripping Blue Steel, that kitsch classic Point Break and a film I really must see soon, Strange Days. She's dabbled with TV [if you could call three eps of the excellent Homicide: Life on the Street] dabbling. And she's got one real stinker on her resume, K19: The Widowmaker with Harrison Ford as a Russian sub commander [or some such shite].

The stinker almost killed her career stone dead, so it's brilliant to see her return with a movie as stunning as The Hurt Locker. I won't spoil any part of it for you, except to see you should see it in a cinema. Make the effort. Come Oscar time, this will be in the running for a statue [or several, if there's any justice]. Amazing performance by Jeffrey Renner, too - give that man a golden statue.

Snakes on a cane, and other random stuff

Loving the promo image for the new season of House [its sixth], which kicks off soon across the Atlantic. Been having a season four re-watch on DVD of late and thoroughly enjoying it. The reality show elimination motif adds a lot of fun to the show, helping to alleviate the occasionally formulaic nature of House episode structure. [In short, the patient nearly dies at the end of each act.]

In other news, I finally sent away a short job that's been kicking my arse for far too long. Not that I needed reminding, but I shouldn't take on jobs for which I don't have much enthusiasm - when your heart's not in it, your writing won't have much heart. [Yikes, I sound like the dude from Mystery Men who always talks in riddles. Love that film.] So, yeah, don't take commissions for the sake of it.

What else? Got notes back on the first draft of my Doctors episode. Nothing apocalyptic I'm happy to report [while being careful not to go into any specifics]. Second draft is now submitted. This is the make or break draft, I'm told. Yikes. Will hear back about that in due course. No doubt there'll be a third [and probably a fourth] draft ahead, but I'm learning so much at the same time.

Off to Edinburgh this afternoon to see classmates from the screenwriting MA course I did 2005-2007. Some of them I haven't seen since graduation nearly two years ago. Feels an apt moment for a spot of reliving our student experience, as next Thursday I start teaching a new creative writing MA at Edinburgh Napier University. Call it karma, coming full circle, or whatever. Me, I'm just excited.

My short film script is a Page Awards finalist

Happy news late last night: THE WOMAN WHO SCREAMED BUTTERFLIES is a finalist in the 2009 Page International Screenwriting Awards. It's one of the ten contenders in the short film script category. There are ten categories, with a winner and two runners-up to be announced in each section on October 1st. The contest had nearly 4400 entries from 58 countries, so it's nice to be among the top 100 from all of those submissions.

I don't expect ...BUTTERFLIES to win. It's a striking script with a visually arresting element to the layout, but not exactly uplifting, feelgood fun. Even if it does win, the chances of my script getting made are slim. Short films tend to be arthouse efforts aimed at the film festival circuit or stepping stones to longer projects. Guess a director might fall in love with it, but I'm not holding my breath.

Been done this road before. Two years ago my script DANNY'S TOYS won the short film category in the 2007 Page Awards. Got a few reading requests and an Edinburgh producer sounded out Scottish Screen about development funding [without success]. A big strike against DANNY'S TOYS was the fact it had to be animated, meaning a six figure production budget - no easy ask for a short film.

THE WOMAN WHO SCREAMED BUTTERFLIES is contemporary, live action and doesn't feature any children [or clockwork bumblebees] - so it has a fractionally better chance of progressing beyond the script stage. Whatever happens, it's nice to see a project I developed for the BBC Sharps contest last year finding recognition. Keep your fingers crossed for ...BUTTERFLIES on October 1st. In the meantime - onwards!

Anyone can happen: Dollhouse season 2 poster

Loving the new promo poster for season 2 of Joss Whedon's Dollhouse. It's amazing the show survived a misfiring first run, especially as it airs on genre-killing network Fox across the Atlantic. Here's hoping the summer break will have helped the show's writing team find the cool drama that lurks within a problematic premise.

In other news, I've submitted the first draft of my Doctors script and now await notes. Hubris lurks, so I fully expect a plethora of pointers on how to make it better. Come to think of it, the best thing I acquired while studying for a screenwriting MA was an objective distance to my work. When people point out the flaws in a draft, there's no value in taking that personally. It's about making the story better. Onwards!

It's official: My first TV drama commission

Just a quick note to explain why I won't be blogging much for the next few weeks: I've been commissioned to write an episode of Doctors, due for broadcast on BBC1 next February. This is the culmination of much work, persistence and patience. Of course, I've only just signed the contract, still have several drafts ahead of me and can't say anything more yet. But I wanted to share the moment with you. Now, as ever - onwards!

Me wittering on Newsnight Scotland

Last week The Times in Scotland ran a piece about the new creative writing MA course I'm helping set up and teach at Edinburgh Napier University [22 days until our first cohort arrives]. That prompted Newsnight Scotland to put together a segment on efforts to make art both creative and financially rewarding. A reporter and cameraman came round the house to film me for this [so I spent much of the day tidying as a result].

The segment was due to air last Wednesday, but got bumped by a flurry of news over the man imprisoned for the Lockerbie incident. Next day I came home to an apologetic message, the segment was rescheduled for Tuesday the 18th. Fast forward to yesterday and I'd completely forgotten about my TV appearance, thanks to a piece of good news that was occupying all my brain capacity [that news will get announced here soon].

So I wasn't watching when the segment ran last night. Anyone in the UK who's interested can catch it via iPlayer for the next few days [not sure those outside the UK can]. The segment starts about twelve minutes into the show, and my chunk can be found at about 14:25. Features a big, fat visual plug for THRILL-POWER OVERLOAD, my book detailing the history of iconic British comic 2000 AD, which is nice. Thanks, BBC Scotland!

Love this Big Finish advertising image

You may consider this a completely gratuitous plug for the Doctor Who audio drama Enemy of the Daleks - so be it. But I stumbled across the Big Finish ad for its 2009 mini-season of 7th Doctor plays, and couldn't resist it. [Want to find out more? You can download the first episode of Enemy for just 99 pence.] Here endeth the hype.

The issue after the first Superman appearance

Superman made his debut in Action Comics #1, back in the summer of 1938. The cover of that first issue has become iconic, featuring Supes lifting up a car as if it were a child's toy. But have you ever wondered what was on the cover of Action Comics #2? No, me neither - until now. The Beat plucked the second issue out of obscurity yesterday, and I had to shame the results with you...

Sod Superman. That's what I call a great cover.

My fizzog on a [Scottish] telly soon. Maybe

Just been interviewed for a prospective Newsnight Scotland piece about creativity and professionalism. Might be on tonight [Wednesday, August 12 2009], might be on tomorrow. Or they might leave my face on the cutting room floor. Anyway, pimped the new creative writing MA course and did cutaways of me leafing through the pages of THRILL-POWER OVERLOAD, my magnificent octopus about the history of iconic British comic 2000AD.

Later this afternoon an Irish radio station is interviewing me by phone [alas, no free trip to Dublin for me], another Q&A inspired by yesterday's piece in the Times [Scottish edition]. Nice to get the course some more attention, all grist to the mill. Happily, I got to sit down for the Newsnight segment. Once did a live interview for Sky News while standing on one leg next to an open window in a snowstorm, pimping 2000 AD.

As a bonus, selected parts of the house now look spotless, thanks to frantic tidying before the Newsnight people arrived. Even gave the Dyson one of its rare excursions across the carpet. Downside of all this: not getting much work done today. My plan to write an article about the English longbow and Robin Hood isn't making much progress, and it's back to Craighouse tomorrow for two days prepping the MA course.

No prizes for what I'll be doing this weekend: writing.

I'm sorry Dave, I'm afraid I can't call you that

Don't ask me why, but I've never liked being called Dave. My given name is David and it seems to suit me. Dave? Not so much. Ask anyone who knows me and they'll probably agree, I'm much more of a David than a Dave. There's nothing particularly rational about my preference, just the way I am. So it's little vexing to be re-named Dave Bishop in an article published by The Times today. Still, worse things happen at sea.

The piece is about the new creative writing MA starting at Edinburgh Napier University next month. I've been working part-time at the university since January, helping to develop the programme and recruit our first cohort of students. We've got a full house for the two-year part-time route and are close to maximum density for full-timers. More significant is the fact we're turning away two applicants for every one we select.

Why's that important? Because we want students to have talent before they arrive. I believe the crafts of writing can be taught, the theoretics of writing can be explored in a classroom, and vocational skills can be honed. But innate, storytelling talent - I have my doubts that can be taught. You've got it, or you don't [in my humble opinion]. So we've been screening our applicants, searching for talents we can help.

That's not to say everyone we've rejected has no talent, Far from it. But our course is not a one-size-fits-all entity. We're focusing on popular genres and commercial media. That means those who'd rather explore literary fiction and poetry [for example] are better off going elsewhere. There's plenty of other creative writing MAs, workshops and courses that will better meet their needs.

Some people applied too soon. They show promise, but not enough to get through the screening process. First off there's an application form with a personal statement. That's the first indication of whether a would-be student can write, has passion and the drive necessary to prosper on the course. Get through that stage and we ask to read 3000 words of original prose. Here's where many people go awry.

[I was amazed to read a column by agent Julian Friedman about his experience of being an external industry expert for the validation of a particular scriptwriting course. Apparently the course did not require applicants to submit a writing sample as part of its selection procedure! Friedman did not give the course his unqualified blessing, and I can't say that I'm surprised.]

If their sample demonstrates talent [originality, wit, flow, flair, a grasp of grammar and spelling, various other qualities], applicants to our course get invited for an interview. Everybody gets asked the same questions, giving a chance to express their writing aspirations, inspirations and why our course is a good fit for them right now. Then it's decision time for us, and a nervous wait for them.

There's one thing that doesn't come up during the interviews, so I must remember to raise it when we have all our students in for the first day of induction and matriculation on Thursday, September 10th: whatever else you do, don't call me Dave.

Radio silence here for the next week

Sigh. This is going to be one of those vexing blog posts where I have to talk in maddeningly vague terms about an exciting opportunity. So, apologies for that, but I'm not going to risk putting the curse on this project by blurting about it here. Suffice to say, I've been given a chance to prove myself. So expect nothing more than tumble weed here until after next Tuesday, which is my deadline for delivery.

Those of you who read other blogs by emerging screenwriters will have seen this happen before. The closer new scribes get to achieving their dream - writing for film, or TV, or another storytelling medium - the less they can talk about it. Glorious transparency becomes elusive obfuscation, with vague hints of exciting things happening about which nobody can talk. It's frustrating, makes for an unsatisfying blog and a necessary evil.

In short: sorry, but needs must. Onwards.

I'm a semi-finalist in the Page Awards

Got home yesterday to discover one of my scripts is through to the semi-finals of the 2009 Page International Screenwriting Awards. That sounds more impressive than it is, since there are 25 semi-finalists in ten different categories, chosen from nearly 4400 entries in total. I'm in Short Film, a section I won two years ago for my animation project DANNY'S TOYS. Finalist will be announced September 1, the winners a month later.

My semi-finalist script is THE WOMAN WHO SCREAMED BUTTERFLIES, which I first write a year ago for the BBC Sharps opportunity. A perceptive reader at the BBC writersroom sent me this feedback: "...feels rather more like an extended short film than a drama for TV". How right they were. TWWSB has been through numerous drafts since, improving dramatically after feedback from readers [thanks to Adrian, Lucy, Laura and Lucy].

The script is now a svelte 19 pages, instead of the 28-page version I submitted for Sharps. The one-dimension villain is now more complicated and realistic, while the instability that fractures one character is echoed in the title character. I've no idea if TWWSB will progress any further in the Page Awards, as it's a darker piece than the fiarytale charm of DANNY'S TOYS. But a little affirmation is always a nice start to the week. ONwards!

A child's first Hitchcock: Psycho

Genius. Utterly f**king genius.

Coming soon: Bonfire of the Kindles

Amazon.com got itself into trouble lately by deleting a version of George Orwell's novel 1984 from the Kindle e-book readers of its customers. They'd paid for the book, yet Amazon electronically removed it from their Kindles. The reason for this marvellously Orwellian act of intervention? Amazon had sold a version of the e-book to which it didn't have electronic distribution rights.
Couldn't help but wonder what other e-tomes could become the subject of bizarre, yet strangely acts of electronic intervention? Perhaps every Kindle containing a copy of Farenheit 451 could self-immolate if a fire engine goes past. Or The Book of Lost Books might disappear completely unless you read it once a week. More worryingly, I'm convinced someone's going to start The Twitter of Anne Frank. [Too late, it's already happening.]

Tales from the trenches

It's nearly two years since I finished my MA in screenwriting. Met up with two of my former classmates yesterday for a natter, the sharing of war stories from the trenches of freelance writing and tips about opportunities for each other's work. There are times when you get in a room full of writers and all you see around you is competition. Happily, there are other gatherings were those around you are a potential support network.

Each of us yesterday had tales of getting mucked about, ripped off or frustrated by promises and possibilities that have come to nowt. Given the choice, I suspect none of us would enter into a collaboration or writing gig without securing a signed contract first. Reality and experience tells us that rarely happens [although most book publishers and the BBC are pretty vigilant about maintaining a clean paper trail for writers].

None of our class has achieved massive success as yet [or if they have, they've kept it well quiet]. Plenty of them have secured paid writing jobs. Lots have seen short film scripts made. Others have pursued broadcast by internet for their efforts, or worked the festival circuit to limited acclaim. Some have achieved success writing in other media, such as novels, plays, radio drama and computer games. Some have even won prizes.

The piece of paper we received upon graduation, that was perhaps the least important part of the MA experience. What counted was what we learned, the people we met, the friends we made, the contacts we formed, the scripts we wrote, the feedback we received, the opportunities we had to experiment - and fall flat on our faces, at times - in a friendly environment. Those are the things that remain, that linger, that matter.

In seven weeks I'll be helping teach a new creative writing MA at Edinburgh Napier University in Scotland. We'll have a class full of students eager to learn, to find out more about writing, the industry and themselves. No doubt there'll have mis-steps, as few new ventures accelerate from a standing start without hitting the occasional bump in the metaphorical road. But it'll be an adventure, hopefully a rewarding one.

Right now, I have no idea what effect it'll have on my writing or my career. I'm determined to keep pursuing the ambition of screenwriting TV drama. No doubt there'll be days when teaching will drain large chunks of creativity away. But it should also have an energising effect, making me re-think my own methods, tics and writing techniques. Time will tell. In the meantime, I've got modules handbooks to prepare. Onwards!

21 Question Movie Meme

Stole this from Miss Read's blog, who lifted it from elsewhere...

1.Name a movie that you have seen more than 10 times.
The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Used to go every few weeks to a midnight screening at the Hollywood Cinema in Avondale, Auckland, New Zealand. Costumes, props, call and response - the full audience participation. I still pity the poor sods who had to clean up the mess afterwards.

2.Name a movie that you’ve seen multiple times in the theater.
The first Back to the Future, more than 30 times. There's an Australian film called Starstruck I loved so much I saw back-to-back screenings in the same theatre.

3.Name an actor that would make you more inclined to see a movie.
Got a lot of affection for Dennis Quaid. Clint Eastwood too, but he's petty much retired now. In my 1980s love for Michael J Fox stage, I saw a lot of crappy movies - Teen Wolf, The Secret of My Success, Bright Lights Big City. For my book on the films of Michael Caine, I watched 80 of his films. Twice. But that was masochism.

4.Name an actor that would make you less likely to see a movie.
Nicole Kidman. Tom Cruise. [Get them both in a film, I'm likely to never see it.] Will Ferrell. Jude Law, unless he's playing an utter shit.

5.Name a movie that you can and do quote from.
Broadcast News, amongst many: "I'll meet you at that thing in the place where we went that time." The first time I met my wife, she quoted a line from The Breakfast Club and I replied with the next line.

6.Name a movie musical that you know all of the lyrics to all of the songs.
The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I also know all the audience participation responses as well, including several obscure NZ-only variants.

7.Name a movie that you have been known to sing along with.
See above.

8.Name a movie that you would recommend everyone see.
The Dish.

9.Name a movie that you own.
Just one? Well, I bought Smart People for three quid on DVD at Tesco on Sunday. It's got Dennis Quaid in it.

10.Name an actor that launched his/her entertainment career in another medium but who has surprised you with his/her acting chops.
Frank Sinatra in The Manchurian Candidate.

11.Have you ever seen a movie in a drive-in? If so, what?
No, but I remember seeing You Only Live Twice projected on the lounge wall of Gordon Barnaby's house in Pt Chev during the 1970s, long before home video. They hired a projector and got the film on 8mm. The bit where one spaceship swallows the other spaceship - cutting off a spacewalking astronaut in the process - scared the bejesus out of me.

12.Name a movie that you keep meaning to see but just haven’t yet gotten around to it.
The Outlaw Josie Wales.

13.Ever walked out of a movie?
Prince of the City, by Sidney Lumet [I think]. Wasn't much of a date movie. Then again, it wasn't much of a date. She was a lovely girl, but we weren't well suited. She's a lesbian now, and probably much happier as a consequence.

14.Name a movie that made you cry in the theater.
Oh, I blub all the time at movies. Field of Dreams leaves me in bits.

15.What’s the last movie you saw in the theater?
The Hangover, while killing time in London. Bloody funny.

16.What’s your favorite/preferred genre of movie?
Been on an early 70s conspiracy thriller jag, of late.

17.What’s the first movie you remember seeing in the theater?
Maybe the Puffinstuff movie, at Pt Chev.

18.What movie do you wish you had never seen?
The Magus. Insufferable shite. But it does have a brilliant poster.

19.What is the weirdest movie you enjoyed?
Magnolia. Not to everyone's taste.

20.What is the scariest movie you’ve seen?
Silence of the Lambs, in a packed Leicester Square cinema full of men screaming in utter, abject terror.

21.What is the funniest movie you’ve seen?
I was weeping with laughter at the talent section of Little Miss Sunshine, but The Hangover is far more consistently funny.

I Was a Teenage Zambuck

Filming started yesterday for next year's series of Doctor Who. Within hours the internet was awash with photos of Matt Smith in costume as the 11th Doctor, an intriguing young fogey look juxtaposing elbow patches, tweed and a thin bow-tie with bovver boots. The TARDIS prop has been given a retro makeover, with a St John's Ambulance sticker reappearing on the front door for the first time since 1966.

I've always had a fondness for that symbol, having been a St John's Ambulance cadet for a year or two while growing up in New Zealand. Mostly it involved learning first aid procedures and practising drills in a black and white uniform of serge so scratchy it felt like wearing hot Brillo pads. We went along to sports events, poised to intervene in case of accident or injury, slowly melting in our uniforms.

Not sure I ever got to treat anyone, but I do recall being on duty during stock car races at Waikaraka Speedway. Several members of my family are buried in the cemetary next door now, but that happened after my time as a Zambuck. Looking back, I'm not sure why I joined the cadets. I was never interested in the scouts, the boys' brigade or the air training corps - all of which were popular pursuits for Kiwi youths at the time.

I didn't last long in the cadets - puberty and a burgeoning interest in girls soon put paid to being a Zambuck. Melting in a scratchy uniform on the sidelines didn't do a lot of me, and I've always preferred to plough my own furrow. But it did feel good to help others, to be part of something larger than yourself. So it's nice to see the St John's Ambulance symbol restored to pride of place in the front door of the TARDIS again.

I never understood why the cadets were known as the Zambucks back then. Thanks to the internet, I've just looked up that old nickname. Seems it was an Antipodean thing. Zam-Buk was the trade name for an ointment in a black-and-white container. Black and white were also the St John's Ambulance uniform colours, so some wag at a sports event called the medical volunteers Zambucks - and the name stuck. How odd. Oh, well - onwards!

Wait 24 hours and a new priority will emerge

Thanks to all those who cast a vote about my next project. I'm setting myself the goal of writing a first draft feature this year, as well as working up more ideas for Doctors and pulling finger with regards radio drama. Having decided all of that, I spent most of the day developing an entirely new idea, though I've no idea yet which medium best suits the story I want to tell. Probably TV drama, if I'm honest - it's my bag.

Then came an announcement of Scotland Writes, a new BBC TV drama writing opportunity for writers born or resident in Scotland. Click the link to get all the facts, but here are the headlines: 60 page script, pilot for a series or serial, any genre, suitable for broadcast on a BBC channel, deadline: Monday November 7 this year. Open to all over the age of 18, so long as you don't have two or more hours of broadcast drama to your credit.

It's long been a frustration for Scottish writers that there are so few TV drama openings north of the border. The local BBC soap River City did invite submissions back in 2006, with the promise of a weekend workshop for the best candidates. Instead entrants waited a year for their rejection letters. The show's now a 60-minute weekly drama, not a place for newcomers to cut their teeth - closing that doorway.

STV soap High Road gave a generation of writers their first taste of scripting TV drama, but that's long gone now. Crime drama Taggart was never really an option for emerging writers, but even that hardy perennial is all but gone, according to rumours. That leaves London-based schemes like the Writers' Academy, and Channel 4's Coming Up - slim pickings in an industry crippled by cutbacks.

When Kate Rowland - the BBC's Creative Director of New Writing - came to Edinburgh last summer with the writersroom roadshow, she talked about establishing a shadow scheme or new opportunity for scribes north of the border. So it's great to see that come to fruitition with Scotland Writes. The lengthy deadline [more than 15 weeks] offers no excuse. First prize is £1500 to develop your idea, with another £500 for the runner-up.

Even if you don't get a cash prize, up to 20 of the best entrants will be invited to a masterclass where they will have a chance to meet the BBC Scotland development team. I reckon this opportunity will get around 200 entries. That means you've got a one in ten chance of face-time with the people who can open doors for you. Now's your chance, so get off your arse and start writing. Onwards!

Spoiled for choice about what to write next

Had two meetings in Glasgow on Monday, talking with a producer and a drama development exec. It's a chilling period in the world of film and TV drama at the moment, with commissions few and far between while long-running favourites are getting the chop. Getting funding for features is tougher than ever, ITV has all but abandoned non-soap drama before 9pm, and the BBC seems to be under constant attack from every angle. Tough times.

Despite this, one clear message emerged from both meetings: everybody's looking for great writing, fresh ideas, new concepts. There are absolutely no guarantees, but there are still opportunities. But you have to play the long game. Those with the power to say yes and inject money into a project are more risk averse than ever in these dark days of credit crunch and cutbacks. Good enough isn't enough now, you need to be exceptional.

Despite the dire state of the industry, those meetings left me fizzing with excitement. I've got a fistful of projects all clamouring for my attention, arguing inside my head about which one gets developed next. The danger is I start pinballing between them, never making any real progress. It's decision time - what should I write next?

Just for fun, I'm giving you a chance to influence that choice. Should I get stuck into the feature screenplay I've been putting off far too long? Haven't got a feature in my portfolio, it's a gaping absence. Should I work up one of half a dozen concepts for TV pilots? How about radio drama, an area I've been neglecting for months, even years? Or should I pour my energies into pitches for Doctors?

Indicate which one of these options you favour in the comments section. Can't guarantee I'll abide by the majority decision, but you might tip the balance. Vote now!

Entertainment mega-force stopped by... trees

After years of refusing to countenance having a Sky dish, three days of appalling reception a fortnight ago finally forced a collision of shove and push. Phoned up Sky, arranged a package with an HD Sky+ box, sat back and waited. The installation man was due to arrive to between 8am and 1pm on Monday, a five hour period ostensibly known as morning. There was no sign of him by 12.30pm, so I called the only phone number I had for Sky.

Recorded messages informed me the installer would have phoned by 9am on the day he was due to visit, so I'd known when to expect him. Nope, that didn't happen. There seemed to be no way of actually conversing with a human, to find out where the installer was. I shrugged and got back to work. The missing dish bloke turned up at 12.59pm - props to him for making it in time. His arrival heralded a torrential downpour, after weeks of sunshine.

He wandered up and down the road, ascertaining where everybody else's Sky dish was pointing. Once the optimum direction was found, a problem became clear: trees. There's a lovely copper beech at the front of our property, with a rubbish ash tree beside it. Both are tall - taller than the house. That wouldn't be a problem, except they're in exact alignment with our place and the optimum direction for Sky reception. Not good news.

Dish bloke wandered round the back garden, searching for the best possible signal, before reporting he was struggling to get 50% strength. Our only hope would be strapping the dish to the highest point of our home - the chimney. But that's a two-man job involving steeplejacks and grud alone knows what else. So a dynamic duo of dish blokes is coming today to scale the eastern face of our house, in search of good signal.

If that doesn't work, Sky will refund our money and it's back to watching Celebrity Masterchef and Torchwood through a televisual snowstorm effect. Living in the Scottish countryside, there's no chance of cable ever getting near us - so it's Sky or nothing. I find it ironic that Rupert Murdoch's empire is painted as this mighty, all-consuming monolith, yet it's being vanquished by two trees in our garden. Oh well, back to work. Onwards!

UPDATE: The trees won. Not only are our trees too tall, those across the road are even taller - and they're all blocking line of sight to the relevant satellite. Which smells of wee, frankly. Grrrr.

Don't hope things'll happen, make them happen

Back from That Fancy London where I went to Adrian Mead's Screenwriting Career Guide seminar. I'd blog all my notes but Lucy at Bang2Write beat me to it, so go read her account. The tip about targeting European producers was one of many good ideas I hadn't heard before. As always, Adrian was a wonderfully galvanising influence. He talks a lot of sense, such as the bouncers' mantra: don't hope it'll be alright, make it turn our alright.

He challenges people to confront the issues they're not dealing it, and to set public goals for themselves with definitive deadlines. So here's the three objectives I chose at the seminar. Short-term goal for this week: submit 2x two-page story of the day pitches to Doctors. Medium-term goal for the next three months: write a first draft of my TEALEAF project. Long-term goal for the next three years: get an original TV drama optioned.

Strictly speaking, the last one is wrong because it depends upon others to make it happen. These are meant to be goals you make happen, and getting optioned obviously requires somebody else [ideally, somebody else with money]. But there's no point aiming low and achieving the easy, that's not going to advance my cause. Deadlines for my goals - this Wednesday for short-term, September 27 for medium and June 2012 for Long-term.

Adrian's point about making things happen is all too true. The progress I've made in the first six months of 2009 stems from hard work, putting stuff out there and not taking rejections to heart. I've had plenty of knock-backs, but you can't take them personally. And where opportunities arise, you've got to grab them with both hands. Hiding in a corner and hoping you'll be noticed doesn't do the job, especially now. Onwards!

2009: first six months progress report

Half the year gone already, time for a recap. What have I achieved thus far, and what remains undone? Not enough and plenty are the short answers, but this is blog [not a twitter] so I'll elucidate. The biggest change is becoming a part-time lecturer in creative writing at Edinburgh Napier University. This consumes half the working week [and sometimes more], but provides financial freedom from having to do hackwork to pay the bills.

It's worth mentioning how much I'm enjoying the job. We've been interviewing potential students for a while now, and it's a blast discovering what makes people tick. We're offering a creative writing MA unlike any other, and it's attracting students with some amazing potential. Can't wait to get them into a classroom together and see what happens, see what stories they want to tell. Roll on September, that's what I say.

So, where was I? Oh yes, half year report. I'm making progress with Doctors, having gotten my first story idea banked, but need to be doing more. The Lighthouse project pushed many things to one side for several months, so the conclusion of that means I can get back to thinking about stories for Heston, Cherry, Daniel, et al. Doctors has given a lot of writers their first TV drama broadcast credit - hopefully I can emulate their success.

My WWII homefront soap Families At War was among the runners-up for the Red Planet Prize, earning me a session with Hustle creator Tony Jordan and an invite to send ideas to his production company. That's a 12-month offer, so I need to make the most of that opportunity. I've also been meeting with a script editor at another production company and we're kicking round a couple of ideas [I understand this is known as development.]

My first Doctor Who audio drama, Enemy of the Daleks, was released in May. I'd written a dozen different projects for Big Finish, but it was a special moment to script a four-part story for the main Who range. Happily, Enemy of the Daleks has proved popular with fans and even got a good review from critich Matt Michael in Doctor Who Magazine: "On the whole this is a very solid play with intelligence as well as plenty of guts."

I've also written the first Judge Dredd talking book, Stranger Than Truth, for Big Finish. This is akin to a dramatic reading, but with an extra voice or two plus music and sound effects. Stranger Than Truth is a tricksy little tale that operates on several levels. Alas, I couldn't go to the recording in Manchester last week, so the finished product will be completely fresh to me when it's released later this year.

My magnificent octopus about the history of iconic British comic 2000 AD was released as a paperback in February. Thrill-Power Overload was already earning me royalties from the sold out hardback edition [which some spivs are now selling for £170], so it's a joy to see the TPO paperback doing well. Years of my life are invested in that book, and it's something I hope stays in print for a long time. Makes the effort feel worthwhile.

Wrote my 39th and 40th issues of The Phantom comic for Egmont Sweden. Was one of two writers on a brainstorming session for a multi-platform BBC project. Been writing storylines and tweaking pitch documents for an animated project at an independent production company. Read numerous scripts and treatments for Scottish Screen. And I await news from several open call writing initiatives, such as Coming Up and the BSSC.

Last but not least, my script THE WOMAN WHO SCREAMED BUTTERFLIES has just been named as a quarter-finalist in the 2009 Page International Screenwriting Awards. That sounds more impressive than it is, as the top 10% of all entries make the quarter-finals. There are several more rounds before prize-winners are announced in the autumn. Still, it's nice to see TWWSB getting some love, as I've a great deal of affection for the script.

I won first prize in the Page Awards' short film category two years ago with DANNY'S TOYS. Obviously, I'd love TWWSB to get close to matching that, but have my doubts. DANNY'S TOYS had a downbeat yet hopeful ending. TWWSB is a bit edgier and more experimental, with lashings of bleak nihilism to finish. But you never know with these things, it's all utterly subjective. Must dash. Tomorrow I'll plot the way ahead. Onwards!

I've been and done Dundee, you see

Sunday was Comics Day at the Dundee Literary Festival [and how nice that a literary festival has a comics day - others take note!]. Organiser Chris Murray did a wonderful job pulling everything together, and I got to natter with creators I haven't spoken to for years [Alan Grant, Warren Ellis, Gary Erskine, Colin MacNeil]. Met lots of new people too, like artist Emma Vieceli and graphic novels evangelist Mel Gibson [no, not that one].

I ran a workshop on writing for graphic novels in the morning, before chipping in an afternoon presentation about Alan Moore's treatment of time frames in his 2000 AD work. The rather plush lecture theatre [well, it was a lot nicer than many I've encountered] had a good crowd, and they seemed to enjoy themselves. [You can read more about the day at Helen Caldwell's blog.] It was the second such workshop I'd run lately and they're a lot of fun.

Next month I'm taking my show and tell extravaganza to the Edinburgh International Book Festival. I'll be running a Writing Graphic Novels workshop on August 25th. I'd offer more details, but the event's already sold out, so why tease you, right? I was a regular attendee at EdBookFest, until screenwriting turned my head. It'll be odd standing at the front of an EdBookFest event, instead of sitting down and taking reams of notes.

But you never truly stop learning, so this weekend I'd headed down to That Fancy London for The Screenwriter's Career Guide seminar, led by Adrian Mead. I used to be a regular at Adrian's sessions, but lately they've always coincided with my pre-booked holidays. Happily, not this time. I'm stopping overnight on Saturday, so for once I can go to the pub afterwards and savour the banter/networking/drinking [delete as appropriate].

All this coming and going has me feeling like I'm living out of a suitcase. No sooner does it get emptied and the contents washed than it's time to fill the damned thing back up and troop out the door again. But this coming weekend's jaunt is my last excursion for a while. After that it'll be time to knuckle down for some actual - gasp - writing. Just need to decide what it is I'll write next. The possibilities are legion. Onwards!

Thank God almighty, draft three at last

Finished the third draft of my Lighthouse project script this week, after an elephantine gestation process. It's effectively a first draft, as I had to throw nearly everything out from first two drafts and start again - and it shows. Pacing's hinky, characterisation inconsistent and it lacks a consistent tone. Some glimpses of good stuff, but project fatigue has taken its toll. Not even close to my best work, alas.

I'm waiting on feedback and will make a decision after that whether I want to attempt a fourth draft. In truth, I'm more than ready to move on. The Lighthouse team writing project has much to recommend it, but the script I've ended up with doesn't bear much resemblance to my writing. I could spend three months and a fistful of new drafts changing that, but suspect I'd be better off developing a feature.

I'll be back tomorrow with thoughts on the first half of 2009 for my writing, news of workshops I'll be leading in Dundee and Edinburgh, and other titbits. Onwards!

The unbearable Darkseid of being

Jack Kirby stripped bare. More existential madness here.

Two steps backward, one step forward

I hate writing scripts in a bitsy, stop-start manner. Unfortunately, that's exactly how I've having to write the third draft of my Lighthouse project script. Been fitting it in around other things for what feels like forever, and not making much progress. Every time I get some momentum, I have to stop for something else: a week's holiday, three days in Belgium, three days on family business, and two or three days at week at my part-time job.

Every time I come back to the script, I have to go back through what I've already done to remind myself of the characters' voices. Even that wouldn't be such an issue if this weren't a page one rewrite. I've had to throw out two previous drafts and start my scratch, but erasing the memory of those past iterations is easier said than done. Spent yesterday going through what I'd already done and found things coming apart round page 25.

So I had to perform script surgery all afternoon, cutting whole scenes, shifting others and inventing fresh material to bridge the gaps. As a consequence I ended up with less than I'd started the day with. Not only did I not add any new pages, I actually cut one from what I had. Argh. If I could just get a clear run at this, an undisturbed week, I could finish.

But it's back to work at Edinburgh Napier University tomorrow and Thursday, meaning another broken week. Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying my part-time job teaching creative writing. But there are moments when I can't help resenting the fact it's getting in the way of my own creative writing. No doubt there's a delicious irony to be had from all of them, but frustration isn't the best state of mind to savour that.
Oh well. Onwards.

Waiting for our alien overlords to arrive

Every year in the small town/large village [delete as appropriate] where I live there's an event called Gala Week. Seven days of celebrations, communities activities and suchlike - riding out on horses, plastic duck races in the burn, things like that. These are stage managed by a group called the Cornets who remain something of a mystery to me. But the week's highlight is the crowning of this year's Fleming Queen and her courtiers.

This is a decades-long ritual [maybe longer for all I know], involving local children, the Cornets, a coronation, circumstance and pomp. But there's always a nagging feeling at the back of my mind. It's a recollection of a scene from John Christopher's science fiction novel The White Mountains, where a similar rite of passage culminates in local children having mind-controlling metal devices fitted to their skulls - a process called 'Capping'.

Obviously, this isn't the case where I live. There are no alien overlords coming to weld mind control devices to local children. But every year when gala week rolls round, I can't help but to keep checking the skyline, waiting for the Tripods to appear. No sign of them this summer. Guess we're safe for another twelve months. I'll report back next June whether our alien overlords have arrived yet. In the meantime, happy gala week!

Bluffing [or, possibly, riffing]

Most of life seems like an elaborate bluff to me. We pretend that we know what we're doing, that we have at least some of the answers. Trust is, we probably don't. Or maybe we've got the answers wrong. But that's cool. I've always learned [learnt? learned? answers on a postcard, please] more from my mistakes than my successes. Of course, the successes are more pleasureable, so they tend to shine a little more brightly inside my memory space.

What was I talking about? Bluffing. When you're freelance and somebody asks if you can do something, you bluff. Of course I can, you say out loud. Inside your head a little voice is screaming with panic, but a good poker face can hide that. It's why bluffing is so much easier over the phone. [Grud help us if videophones ever become mandatory.] Nobody sees the quiet stab of panic in your eyes, the contraction of your pupils, the perspiration.

Tsk. Did it again, gone off on another tangent. That's can be another cool strategy. Hand waving, distractions, a little of legerdemain [often coupled with a degree of intrepidity. Come to think of it, can you study for a degree of intrepidity? It's probably an undergraduate thing. Maybe there's a night class I can take somewhere. Online would be even better, fit it in round my busy schedule. You know how life gets sometimes...]

The great news is I managed to spell legerdemain correctly without loooking it up in my dictionary. Obviously I did look it up to check I had gotten it right, but that merely enables me to be accurate with authority. [Assuming my dictionary is accurate. If it isn't, we're all in trouble. Hmm, could be the basis for a story. The linguistic anarchist who alters dictionaries. Nah, maybe not.] So legerdemain could be wrong after all.

Where was I? Bluffing. Actually, this blog post should probably have been called digressions, since I seem to have written next to nothing about bluffing. On the other hand, all of this it could be interpreted as an elaborate bluff to distract from the fact I don't have any particular message or nugget of wisdom [or even perceived wisdom - or even perceived stupidity - you be the judge] to impart. So this post is bluffing in action.

I know, I should have called it riffing. Take an idea, run with it, try not to fall over. [Hopefully you're idea isn't as sharp as scissors.] Sort of like jazz. You know the kind of thing - they start a tune you recognise, then everybody has a noodle with it, riffing away for a few minutes. Eventually somebody gets them all back playing whatever the tune was in the first place. So, where was I again? Oh yes, riffing about --

Time's up. Come back tomorrow, I'll turn the record over and see what's on the other side.

Wrapped up like a dooshin - roaner in the night

For years I've been perplexed by the lyrics of Blinded By the Light, a song made popular decades ago by Manfred Mann's Earth Band. [With a name like that they must be from the 70s. Or even the 60s, come to that.] To me it's always sounded like this: "Blinded by the light, wrapped up like a dooshin, in the roaner in the night". Utterly perplexing, yet kind of intriguing. What the hell is a dooshin, and why does it need to be wrapped up?

Thanks to the internet, I've just looked up the song words, hoping to discover more about the mysteries of noctural roaners. Apparently the real lyrics are somewhat more prosaic: "Blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night." Well, at least the words are all real. Does it make any more sense than the scrambled mess my ears have been hearing all these years? No much, frankly. Nor do they answer my dooshin question.

Such is life, I guess. Let's move on. Got a lovely piece of good news yesterday. Won't bore you with the details, as they've of no great significance to most people. But it felt like another tiny step forward on my quest to become a TV drama writer. Grud, I even punched the air in triumph at reading the email. [Both fists, obviously. I'm not Bruce Springsteen.]

Should anyone be interested, I'm running a free workshop in Edinburgh this Thursday about writing for graphic novels. The event runs from 4-5.15pm at the Roxy Art House, 2 Roxburgh Place, Edinburgh EH8. No previous experience needed, just bring pens, paper and enthusiasm. Places are limited, so first come, first served. The workshop is part of the creative showcase for Edinburgh Napier University's School of Arts and Creative Industries.

Right, time for me to press on. Got a script to progress, another to read for a friend and waiting for feedback on a third project. Onwards!

Five act structure and The Apprentice

Ever wondered why certain reality shows are so compelling, despite their apparently formulaic nature? It could be argued that formula is one of the things that make watching them so addictive. The British incarnation of The Apprentice finished last night, with Yasmina hired by grumpy boss Sir Alan Sugar. After a glut of firings on Wednesday's semi-final [and an over-stuffed aftermath show], the finale was far more satisfying.

One workshop I've attended looked at five act structure for TV. Examples cited were reality shows like The Apprentice. Put simply, the five acts are: 1 - set up and call to action; 2 - things go well, initial objectives achieved; 3 - things start to go wrong, forces of antagonism gather; 4 - things go badly wrong precipitating crisis and final confrontation with antagonist; 5 - final battle with anatagonist, matters resolve for good or ill.

So, how does this apply to The Apprentice? The set-up and call to action is clear: opening titles voiceover and the 'Previously on...' section provide set-up, while Sir Alan assigning this week's task is the call to action. Act two: things go well, initial objectives achieved - each team has ideas, gets things moving. Act three: things start to go wrong as forces of antagonism gather - candidates bicker, task goes awry, failure looms.

Act four: things go really badly wrong, etc - one team loses, gets a dressing down from Sir Alan, and the project manager selects two candidates to accompany them back into the boardroom. Act five: final battle with antagonist, matters resolve for good or ill - three candidates face Sir Alan, one of them gets fired, the survivors live to fight another week while the loser gets into a black cab for their departure interview - vanquished.

It's amazing how closely this show hews to the five act structure. However, each act doesn't always end with a twist that transforms the protagonist's fortunes for good or ill. The absence of a single protagonist complicates matters. Even if you treat each team as a group protagonist, the show still follows two groups. But it reaches the boardroom, the number of protagonists rapidly narrows as the final confrontation crisis looms.

Watching The Apprentice, there are times I'd like to see a lot more of the task. But a strict adherence to the show's structure means this section is only acts two and three of the five act structure. The stakes aren't truly raised until the candidates are heading for the boardroom, facing the prospect of being fired. Now half an episode can be devoted to the last two acts, plus the slow curtain epilogue - and trailer for the next episode.

Sigh. As aftermath show host Adrian Chiles said last night, it's going to be a long nine months waiting for the next series of The Apprentice. The good news is Celebrity Masterchef starts afresh this week, so at least I've got that to enjoy. The five act structure is even more explicit there...

Two top opportunities for writers in Scotland

Here's details for two brilliant opportunities for writers based in Scotland. I'm lucky enough to have been on both, and can heartily recommend each one. You learn a lot, you meet some fascinating people and they'll really stretch you as a writer. So what ar eyou waiting for? Get your application in now!

SCOTTISH BOOK TRUST MENTORING SCHEME
The scheme supports writers who have a writing project with which they would like some dedicated support. We match successful applicants with another writer or industry professional with appropriate experience, and we support them as they work together over an intensive period of nine months. Past mentors have included Bernard MacLaverty, Tom Leonard, Professor Douglas Gifford, literary agents Fraser Ross Associates and many more. The deadline for applications is Friday 10th July. More details here.

SCOTTISH BOOK TRUST RADIO LAB
Applications are currently open for the BBC Radio Lab 2009. The Lab will include a mixture of practical workshops and projects, as well as talks from experienced Radio Producers and Writers. The BBC Labs have led to commissions for writers including Louise Welsh, Linda Cracknell and Laura Marney. The Lab is open applicants who have work professionally published or, in the case of dramatists, professional productions of their work. The deadline for applications is Friday 17th July. More details here.

Still not the Weakest Link

I won the Weakest Link again on BBC1 yesterday. Alas, it was a re-run of my appearance from last year, so I don't get another £1570 - lovely as that would be in these financially stricken times. I don't even get a repeat fee, more's the pity. By strange coincidence, earlier this week I watched the Doctor Who episode where Rose appears on The Weakest Link. Upon reflection, I'd have to say the Anne-Droid was surprisingly realistic.

Started building some momentum on my Lighthouse project third draft yesterday. Need to hurry up and finish that, but this draft is a total page one rewrite, not a quick buff and polish job, so each scene raises new questions I hadn't previously contemplated. Working at Napier today, and much of the weekend will be devoted to a project about which I can say nothing. Some paid work now, maybe more later with exciting potential - nice.

Voted in the European elections last night - at 9.57pm, to be precise. Didn't want to get crushed in the rush, you understand. Here in Scotland we had a selection of thirteen choices - 12 parties with list candidates [no, I don't understand what that means either, nor do I care] and one independent. Almost voted for the independent, just because he got stuck at the bottom of the ballot paper as number 13 - but didn't. Sorry, #13.

Last lines meme

There's a meme doing the rounds, whereby published authors list the final lines from each of their novels. For the life of me, I couldn't remember one of my novels yesterday, had to check the listing on this blog [eyes right and scroll down a screen or two] to prompt my memory. [Note to self: must tidy the bookcase with all my author's copies.] I can't be bothered figuring out original publication order, so here they are alphabetically:

AMORALITY TALE: “So be it.”

THE BLOOD RED ARMY: And you already know how this will end.

BAD MOON RISING: “Dredd out!”

CURSED EARTH ASYLUM: “Especially you, Judge Joe Dredd!”

THE DOMINO EFFECT: “It’s only a matter of time.”

EMPIRE OF DEATH: “But I wouldn’t say no to a hug.”

FIENDS OF THE RISING SUN: “I’m certain we shall play an important part in the years to come, the battle ahead.”

HONOUR BE DAMNED: “But I’m not sure he’ll ever get in that way…”

IMPERIAL BLACK: “It’s a long hike back to civilisation from here.”

KINGDOM OF THE BLIND: “See you on the streets, Janus.”

A MASSACRE IN MARIENBURG: The ratmen had a new home, and they had unspeakable plans for the inhabitants of Rijker’s Isle.

A MURDER IN MARIENBURG: The stone had tasted human blood and it wanted more…

OPERATION VAMPYR: “Enjoy the rest of the war.”

THE SAVAGE AMUSEMENT: “The question is – which one’s more dangerous?”

SILENCER: “See you on the streets!”

THE STRANGELOVE GAMBIT: “I just don’t know.”

SUFFER THE CHILDREN: Yes, this little bastard was the spitting image of its father.

TWILIGHT OF THE DEAD: I pray upon the soul of my beloved Mariya and the lives of my children that I never see the Rumanian again.

WHO KILLED KENNEDY: A man does what he must, in spite of personal consequence, in spite of dangers – and that is the basis of all human morality.

Hmm, lots of dialogue finishes. All the examples that end with question marks or screamers are novels based on the Judge Dredd comics characters, as the more hyperbolic tone betrays. Amidst all the doom-laden nihilism, the last line from Empire of Death [not the chirpiest of novels] seems surprisingly upbeat. The outro of Who Killed Kennedy is a quote from a JFK speech. Chances of me writing like that? Less than zero.

Not giving up, not giving in

Welcome to the 1500th posting on this blog. If you enjoy reading my random witterings, you'll be happy to know I've decide to continue with Vicious Imagery at least until the end of August. [If you don't enjoy reading this blog, what are you doing here? Sheesh!] Thanks to the rise of Twitter et al, blogging is going out of fashion. Like I ever followed fashion [as twenty years in winklepickers amply demonstrates]. Style endures, go for style.

But I am conscious of increasingly facing situations where I can't blog about something. Writing gigs that it wouldn't be seemly to discuss here, at least not until they're ready to go public. Since that can take months - or even months - it's kind of frustrating not being able to talk about them. Then there's my part-time job teaching creative writing at Edinburgh Napier University. Talking too much about that here doesn't feel right.

The new creative writing MA has been validated, and we've been interviewing students for a couple of months now. Lots of places offered, a few slots still to fill. But once the course starts, I won't be able to publicly blog about it. At least one prospective student has already revealed reading this blog [hello Christina!], and dishing the dirt or venting any frustrations in public ain't a good plan. So that's off limits too.

So I'll have to review my situation at the start of September, see where I stand. I've still got plenty to say, and writing this blog gets my arse planted in the chair and my fingers typing - all good things. So it looks like you're stuck with me until the end of August at least. Vicious Imagery will be approaching its fourth birthday then. Hard to believe I've been doing this four years, where does the time go, etc, etc, etc.

Back in 2005 I was just starting an MA in screenwriting. Since then I've graduated with distinction [and a medal!], won an international screenwriting prize and been invited on several workshops/shadow schemes with the BBC. Was among the runners-up for the Red Planet Prize, heard my first radio play broadcast and had my 19th professional novel published. Presented a paper at an academic conference. Written for the Daleks.

But there's much more still to do. A first TV drama credit. Securing representation. Writing my own novel. Writing a full length screenplay. A thousand different stories I want to tell before somebody stuffs me in a pine box or torches my corpse. Let's face it, we'll all be dead sooner or later. Think about what you want to achieve before oblivion beckons. If you only had one story left to tell before you die, what would it be?

Hmm, Eccles cake

Been re-watching the first series of newWho, starring Christopher Eccleston [or Christopher EcclesCake, as he's more commonly known in our front room. Hmm, Eccles Cake - is there nothing it can't do?]. Gosh, kind of forgotten how good the 9th Doctor was. David Tennant's tenure has taken the show to new levels of success, but Eccleston did a stunning job - and from a standing start. Funny, moving, fractured, hurt and very, very human.

Somewhere in Cardiff they've probably begun filming Matt Smith's tenure as the 11th Doctor. There's still three specials to come starring David Tennant's Doctor, not to mention a double-episode appearance on The Sarah Jane Adventures - but the end is nigh for the mockney Doc with the quiff that wouldn't quit. What will the new incumbent of the TARDIS be like? I havenae got a Scooby. Old man in a young man's body would be my best guess.

Not sure if we'll plunge on into the Tennant era on the home viewing front. Waiting on season three of Friday Night Lights, coming from America on DVD, along with fondly recalled university series The Paper Chase. Maybe a movie or two as a palate-cleanser. Watched Anatomy of a Murder for the first time on Sunday - cracking film! Should anyone play a remake, I recommend Hugh Laurie for Jimmy Stewart's role - perfect casting IMHO.

Phew, what a scorcher [etc]

Blimey, is it summer? Three days of sunshine in a row normally constitutes summer in Scotland, so this week could well be this year's summer and parts of 2010 as well. Having said that, the last two years have had crap summers, so perhaps this is belated compensation. Whatever the facts, it is another glorious day outside - the perfect time to be a writer, indoors, with a deadline looming. No, hang on, that doesn't sound right at all...

Hello, yes, I'm back. May was a bit of a madcap month, hence the absence of blog postings here at Vicious Imagery. I did get a week's holiday in the middle, but even that turned into a busman's vacation. But don't cry for me, Marge and Tina, I'm feeling refreshed and revitalised. All manner of bibblings and babblings to be expected in the coming days, as is my want. [Or is it my wont?] Just as soon as I remember how to type properly.

The first half of May was utterly slammed, thanks to plenty of deadlines, both with my own writing and my part-time job lecturing at Edinburgh Napier University. Couple of exciting new projects popped up that may or may not be occupying me in months to come. Did the final draft on a 60-minute talking book audio script. I can't talk about it yet, but there's a listing up on Amazon.co.uk if you hunt about using my name as a search clue.

My Doctor Who audio drama Enemy of the Daleks was released and has been getting lots of praise on various fan forums - which is nice. I'd written a dozen different projects for Big Finish, so it was a joy to finally get the chance to script a four part story for the main Doctor Who range. You can find out more about Enemy of the Daleks here, even download the first episode for the bargain basement price 99 pence - now that's value!

Spent most of a week in the French countryside on holiday, except for a madcap dash back to the UK for a 90-minute audience with Tony Jordan. Yes, I was one of the runners-up in the Red Planet Prize competition. You can read Jason Arnopp's report about our session here, so that saves me writing about it any further. Alas, I didn't get to the pub with my fellow scribes afterwards, as Paris beckoned [at least it wasn't burning].

Got back from holiday in time to write the third draft of an academic paper about the interrelationship between Doctor Who prose fiction and the new television series. then jumped on yet another plane [my carbon footprint now stretches so far I'm surprised I still need planes to travel] to Belgium. Delivered my paper at a conference in Leuven. Spent yesterday recovering from a bonkers, madcap kind of month. End to end stuff.

And now it's June. Have got the third draft of my Lighthouse project script to write, that's first priority. Had hoped to do that before going on holiday, but life, other work and the need to totally rethink my story scuppered that plan. Now I feel ready to start writing again. In fact, I'm itching to write. Seems like far too long since I did some actual creating, after academic and schematic scribblings. Let imagination be unleashed. Onwards!

Taking the rest of the month off

Vicious Imagery is going on sabbatical during May. I've got a week's holiday in the middle of this month - interrupted for a day so I can travel back to the UK for a Red Planet workshop with Tony Jordan. No sooner do I get home, than I'm off again to attend an academic conference about science fiction, novelisations and adaptations in Belgium. These excursions leave me 18 days this month - and I'll be working at Edinburgh Napier for five of them.

So, that leaves 13 days to write the 60-page third draft of my Lighthouse project script, the second draft of a 10,000 word talking book, several story of the day pitches for Doctors, a script report for Scottish Screen, rewrite the business plan for our local Corn Exchange, research and write a one hour lecture about revenge narrative in contemporary Hollywood cinema - and an academic paper about Doctor Who literature's ongoing influence.

As a consequence, there's going to be a lot of early starts and late nights. So it's time to prioritise and blogging will have to wait. I'll be back in June with the final part of my writer's journey, maybe some thoughts about the Lighthouse experience and the usual ramblings. I'm fast approaching my 1500th post on this blog. Not sure if that'll be the end for Vicious Imagery. Will contemplate that during May. As ever - onwards!