Seems a bit early in the annum for a review of my writing year, but I feel the need for a bit of throat-clearing, so here goes. I didn't write a novel during 2008 and the same thing happened again this year - could this be a trend? I'm starting to think so. Isn't always easy to identify a sea change in your writing while it's still happening, unless the new direction is a result of conscious choice.
In part my move away from prose stems from abortive projects in 2008. I spent way too much time on a putative novel for one publisher and got royally dicked around. Waiting three months for feedback, then got some half-hearted comments. Another week spent rethinking and reworking the lengthy proposal - only to be left waiting another three months for a response.
By that point I'd had a gutsful and walked. I don't mind being given blunt feedback, in fact I kind of prefer it [must be my Antipodean background]. But weak-arse nothings or radio silence don't do much for me. For example, I spent much of 2008 developing the first in a proposed series of novels based on one of Britain's most popular TV dramas. That also came to naught.
As a consequence, I've walked away from prose for now. I did write a Judge Dredd talking book for Big Finish this year. Enjoyed myself once I finally grasped the nettle and actually sat down to write it, but can't honeslty say I'm itching to get back to pulse-pounding right now. So my 20th [or 21st, depending on which ones you count] novel remains unwritten.
Besides the Dredd talking book [Stranger Than Truth, out now], I also had a Doctor Who audio drama released on download and CD this year. But Enemy of the Daleks was really a 2008 project, so that's old news. Come to think of it, I've been moving further away from the tie-in market. No more Big Finish on the horizon, no tie-in novels in the offing - and that's fine by me.
Back in 2005 I started a screenwriting MA because I was sick of doing so much tie-in work. Hackwork may bring in the bacon, but it's not that satisfying creatively. I chose to challenge myself, learn some new skills and make a concerted effort to get a winklepicker-clad foot in the door of TV drama. If that meant abandoning the world of tie-in books and audios, so be it.
That change of direction came to fruition in 2009, in more ways than one. I'm a lot poorer financially poorer for my choice, but much happier with my writing. Even scripting comic book adventures for The Phantom - one of my bread and butter jobs as a freelance scribe - has taken a back seat this year. I've only written a two-parter, although I've a synopsis to flesh out.
So, what have I been doing instead? Come back for part 2 tomorrow. Got a two-page pitch that needs my attention. Onwards!
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Saturday, December 05, 2009
Friday, December 04, 2009
NZ: Siouxsie, Banshees & Robert Smith - live!
Waaaaay back in the dim mists of time, I was lucky enough to Siouxsie and the Banshees play live - with Robert Smith of The Cure as guitarist. He joined Siouxsie, Steve Severin and Budgie for a spell in the early 1980s [the Banshees went through guitarists like Spinal Tap gets through drummers], and toured New Zealand with them. Talk about your Goth icon overload. Set eyeliner to swoon.
The band played Auckland on Valentine's Day in 1983. The gig was at Mainstreet, a black hole of a place at the top of Queen St. February in Auckland is pretty much the height of summer, and even after dark humidity can be nasty. Don't know how Mainstreet was licensed to hold, but it felt like there were double the legal number. Even the walls were sweating. Set eyeliner to racoon.
I remember watching most of the concert from a mezzanine, standing on a chair to see. By rights I shouldn't have been there - it was Monday [a school night], and I was 16 [underage in a licensed venue]. But one of my brothers got me in, and got me home again afterwards. Next day was the school swimming championships at Jellicoe Pools. That was a long day in hell. [Set eyeliner to doom.]If you're wondering about the photos, they are from that concert but I didn't take them. The photographer was Jonathan Ganley and all the images are his copyright, so please don't swipe them without permission. You can see more of Jonathan's amazing pictures at his blog point that thing. The Siouxsie and the Banshees [with Robert Smith] pictures can be found here.
More than quarter of a century later [yikes!], I now live near Edinburgh in Scotland. Thanks to the joys of twitter, I spotted Steve Severin linking to Jonathan's photographs yesterday. Following a link to Severin's website, I discovered he now lives in Edinburgh. On the other side of the planet, Jonathan's going to my nephew's second birthday party this weekend [happy b-day, Rex!]. It's a small world, folks, smaller than you think. Onwards!
Thursday, December 03, 2009
NZ: The Goodnight Kiwi
Back before New Zealand had 24 hour television, this short animation was screened to signal the end of broadcasting for the day. If you were still awake when the Goodnight Kiwi went upstairs to the satellite dish for a kip, this was TVNZ telling it was time for bed. Bless.
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
NZ: where real men play the Stylophone
Saddened to hear Kiwi music legend and cartoonist Chris Knox suffered a stroke. In honour of him, here's a Radio With Pictures clip from 1983 of Knox [on Stylophone!] performing 'All of My Hollowness To You' live with the Tall Dwarfs.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Scotland Writes Nov. 26th Q&A notes
Drove from Edinburgh to Glasgow on Thursday for the BBC Scotland Writes Q&A session with Anne Mensah [AM hereafter] at Pacific Quay. Starting to think Pacific Quay is Glasgow's Bermuda Triangle. Everytime I go near it, something goes awry - car crashes, trains run late, pedestrian overpasses get closed, or massive tailbacks on the M8. This time: massive tailbacks, driving rain, general carnage.
Anyway, on to some notes from the session. Script editor George Aza-Selinger welcomed everyone [about 60 people attended, it was a full house] and introduced Anne Mensah, who's Head of Drama at BBC Scotland and [since April 2009] Head of Independents. She introduced a showreel of BBC Scotland TV drama projects, past and present, before talking about her department, how it works, etc.
Ideas submitted via agents or production companies are read by a script editor. If they like it, the project gets passed to AM. Her department holds bi-weekly development meetings to discuss new and current projects. If she likes an idea, a treatment will be commissioned. Notes, rewrites and more notes follow. All going well, a script commission will follow. More notes, more rewrites, etc.
AM can pay for all the script development needs of a networked [i.e. broadcast across the UK, not just by BBC Scotland] project. But to get commissioned for transmission requires approval from London - Controller of Drama Commissioning Ben Stephenson, and the relevant channel controller. [This is known as the two tick system.] Scotland-only commissions don't require two ticks.
AM admitted personal tastes played a significant part in what gets commissioned, it's not an exact science. [She also stressed the audience should take everything she said with a pinch of salt, not treat her comment as commandments.] She cares far more about the quality of a writer's work than their ability to pitch a story. Concentrate on your story, not potential slots or channels.
AM warned writers to beware letting bad notes ruin a script. Instead, use the note to identify the underlying problem in your script and invent your own solution. Your TV drama ideas need to have an intrinsic point of view, something to say. Use research to find the emotional truth of your story. Content is not original, it's how you tell the story, your voice that makes it unique.
AM advocated playwrighting as a way of getting attention from BBC drama. In Scotland the script editors make it a point to see as many professionally staged plays by new talent as possible. Alternatively, go to workshops and introduce yourself to script edtiors, find someone will to read your work. They need to find new talent, they want to champion the next great writer.
Everything submitted via an agent or a production company gets reads. If you don't have access to either of these avenues, don't send scripts cold to the BBC Scotland drama department, it'll get bumped to the writersroom in London. Befriend a script editor who agrees to read your original sample, you could avoid that. Contest like Scotland Writes are another way to get attention.
AM revealed the BBC Scotland continuing drama series River City is looking for two new writers per series. They'll be mentored by an experienced writer, to guide them the process of scripting an episode. Producer Morag Bain chipped in that she was keeping a beady eye on the Scotland Writes competition, in search of potential candidates for the mentoring scheme.
As mentioned in my previous blog post, it was announced that 150 entries had been received for the Scotland Writes TV drama contest. The winner gets £1500, while £500 goes to the runner-up and twenty people will get a workshop with AM's team. She would like to run the contest every year, but the one-day workshop costs a lot to stage. Winners will be announced mid-December.
AM's presentation was peppered with clips from dramas by first-time TV writers, such as Gregory Bruke's forthcoming Scottish Single and the powerful one-off Fiona's Story by Kate Gabriel. For contrast, she also showed very early work by BAFTA-winning scribes to demonstrate that everybody starts somewhere and writers only get better through hard work and experience.
After all of that, the gathered throng retired to the lobby of BBC Scotland HQ at Pacific Quay for free drinks and crisps. I was driving, so it was strictly orange juice for me. Nattered to various BBC folk, and had a few words with AM [she recalled my script from among the Red Planet Prize finalists, which was nice]. An illuminating night - well worth the vile journey!
Anyway, on to some notes from the session. Script editor George Aza-Selinger welcomed everyone [about 60 people attended, it was a full house] and introduced Anne Mensah, who's Head of Drama at BBC Scotland and [since April 2009] Head of Independents. She introduced a showreel of BBC Scotland TV drama projects, past and present, before talking about her department, how it works, etc.
Ideas submitted via agents or production companies are read by a script editor. If they like it, the project gets passed to AM. Her department holds bi-weekly development meetings to discuss new and current projects. If she likes an idea, a treatment will be commissioned. Notes, rewrites and more notes follow. All going well, a script commission will follow. More notes, more rewrites, etc.
AM can pay for all the script development needs of a networked [i.e. broadcast across the UK, not just by BBC Scotland] project. But to get commissioned for transmission requires approval from London - Controller of Drama Commissioning Ben Stephenson, and the relevant channel controller. [This is known as the two tick system.] Scotland-only commissions don't require two ticks.
AM admitted personal tastes played a significant part in what gets commissioned, it's not an exact science. [She also stressed the audience should take everything she said with a pinch of salt, not treat her comment as commandments.] She cares far more about the quality of a writer's work than their ability to pitch a story. Concentrate on your story, not potential slots or channels.
AM warned writers to beware letting bad notes ruin a script. Instead, use the note to identify the underlying problem in your script and invent your own solution. Your TV drama ideas need to have an intrinsic point of view, something to say. Use research to find the emotional truth of your story. Content is not original, it's how you tell the story, your voice that makes it unique.
AM advocated playwrighting as a way of getting attention from BBC drama. In Scotland the script editors make it a point to see as many professionally staged plays by new talent as possible. Alternatively, go to workshops and introduce yourself to script edtiors, find someone will to read your work. They need to find new talent, they want to champion the next great writer.
Everything submitted via an agent or a production company gets reads. If you don't have access to either of these avenues, don't send scripts cold to the BBC Scotland drama department, it'll get bumped to the writersroom in London. Befriend a script editor who agrees to read your original sample, you could avoid that. Contest like Scotland Writes are another way to get attention.
AM revealed the BBC Scotland continuing drama series River City is looking for two new writers per series. They'll be mentored by an experienced writer, to guide them the process of scripting an episode. Producer Morag Bain chipped in that she was keeping a beady eye on the Scotland Writes competition, in search of potential candidates for the mentoring scheme.
As mentioned in my previous blog post, it was announced that 150 entries had been received for the Scotland Writes TV drama contest. The winner gets £1500, while £500 goes to the runner-up and twenty people will get a workshop with AM's team. She would like to run the contest every year, but the one-day workshop costs a lot to stage. Winners will be announced mid-December.
AM's presentation was peppered with clips from dramas by first-time TV writers, such as Gregory Bruke's forthcoming Scottish Single and the powerful one-off Fiona's Story by Kate Gabriel. For contrast, she also showed very early work by BAFTA-winning scribes to demonstrate that everybody starts somewhere and writers only get better through hard work and experience.
After all of that, the gathered throng retired to the lobby of BBC Scotland HQ at Pacific Quay for free drinks and crisps. I was driving, so it was strictly orange juice for me. Nattered to various BBC folk, and had a few words with AM [she recalled my script from among the Red Planet Prize finalists, which was nice]. An illuminating night - well worth the vile journey!
Friday, November 27, 2009
Scotland Writes gets 150 entries
Went to the Scotland Writes session at Pacific Quay in Glasgow last night. BBC Scotland Head of Drama Anne Mensah talked eloquently and candidly about what the BBC's looking for, opportunities for writers and ways to get on the radar of her department. With any luck I'll blog my notes more fully this weekend, but the headline above tells you an illuminating fact that emerged last night.
BBC Scotland ran a competition inviting aspiring TV drama writers [from absolute beginners up to those with less than two hours of broadcast credits] to submit a 60-page pilot script for an original series or serial. No entry fee, three months writing time, a perfect opportunity to make your mark. I guessed 100-200 people would enter, and about 150 people did. Results are due next month.
The winner gets £1500 and development opportunities with the TV drama department at BBC Scotland. One runner-up gets £500, and 20 people will be invited in for a one-day workshop. The odds of a cash prize are long, but I always felt anyone who entered had a decent shot of making the workshop. Turns out the odds are 1 in 7.5 - and probably far better for anyone with some training.
Fuller notes to follow this weekend, all being equal. Onwards!
BBC Scotland ran a competition inviting aspiring TV drama writers [from absolute beginners up to those with less than two hours of broadcast credits] to submit a 60-page pilot script for an original series or serial. No entry fee, three months writing time, a perfect opportunity to make your mark. I guessed 100-200 people would enter, and about 150 people did. Results are due next month.
The winner gets £1500 and development opportunities with the TV drama department at BBC Scotland. One runner-up gets £500, and 20 people will be invited in for a one-day workshop. The odds of a cash prize are long, but I always felt anyone who entered had a decent shot of making the workshop. Turns out the odds are 1 in 7.5 - and probably far better for anyone with some training.
Fuller notes to follow this weekend, all being equal. Onwards!
Friday, November 20, 2009
Fire up the kindle: eight of my novels go digital
A few years back I wrote a bunch of books based on characters and concepts from iconic British comic 2000AD. [They were published by Games Workshop's Black Flame imprint, under license.] There were two Judge Dredd novels, three featuring Russian rogue Nikolai Dante, and a trilogy about vampires stalking the battlefields of WWII that was inspired by quirky serial Fiends of the Eastern Front.
Black Flame shut down in 2006, and the book rights slowly reverted to Rebellion, the company that owns 2000AD. Now all eight of those novels have been re-issued in digital format for the Kindle e-reader. [Sold by Amazon.com, the Kindle has been a massive factor in popularising digital books across the Atlantic. How long before Apple leaps into the fray with a dedicated i-Reader tablet?]Alas, I don't get any royalties on Kindle sales of these books, having signed away my rights for a flat fee. [It was work, I needed the money and they weren't my characters.] So there's no financial gain for me in pimping the Kindle editions, but I'm glad to see them back in circulation. No writer enjoys seeing their work vanish, you want to stay in print. Whether that's via ink or pixels doesn't matter.
The two Dredd novels I'm not so fussed about. The first, Bad Moon Rising, was required to prove myself to Black Flame, while the second [Kingdom of the Blind] is far from my best work. The Dante novels are among my favourites of all the books I've written, pure romps that sold terribly at the time. Perhaps they can find a more appreciative audience on the Kindle? Anything's possible, I guess.
My Fiends of the Eastern Front trilogy was a big success for Black Flame, among the best selling of the 2000AD range. Vampires + Nazis = equals sales, especially in the US. A Black Flame assistant editor inadvertently told me American sales were fives times those in the UK, despite the books focusing on the Eastern Front conflict between Axis and Communist forces [no Americans involved].
The first book in the trilogy, Operation Vampyr, is good but I felt weighed down by all the research I'd done to achieve the military verisimilitude. For me the trilogy came alive with the second volume, The Blood Red Army. This moved from the perspective of German soldiers to the Russian fighters' point of view. It also switched to first person narrative, a breakthrough moment in the series.
The final novel in the trilogy, Twilight of the Dead, brought together everyone who'd survived up to that point for a last, apocalyptic battle in the dying days of WWII. For the trilogy I wrote close to quarter of a million words, extending the Fiends concept far beyond the original strip, a rather slight and lurid 44-page thrill-ride. Felt like I'd made it my own, in some ways.
The trilogy was such a success, Black Flame commissioned me to start a new set of novels translating the WWII vampires concept to the Pacific front. US fighters battle Japanese vampires, the so-called yellow peril take on a deadly new meaning. I wrote the first book, Fiends of the Rising Sun, and it was published in 2006. Plans were afoot for further volumes, an epic in the works.
But Games Workshop chose to shut down Black Flame and I never got the chance to finish what I'd started. Fiends of the Rising Sun is the only one of my 2000AD Black Flame novels that hasn't been re-issued via the Kindle - yet. There's been vague talk of continuing the Pacific front series, if e-books proved a success for Rebellion's publishing imprint, Abaddon. Time will tell, as ever.
Monday, November 16, 2009
And so I'm back [but not from outer space]
Phew. Been an action-packed couple of weeks, hence the lack of blog posting. After an unhappy month of travails I now have a shiny, new and fully functioning Mac with a ludicrously big screen. Yet to figure out 90% of the things it can do, but email and all my old programmes work so that'll do for now. No doubt I'll discover more soon.
The week before last was a crazed runaround, doing a thousand things at once before going holiday. Had the pleasure of hosting a masterclass session with James Moran at what's now called ESSaMA - the Edinburgh Skillset Screen and Media Academy. Back when I was studying screenwriting there, it was just Screen Academy Scotland. [Perhaps they realised somebody else was using the acronym SAS.]
James was a delight - funny, informative, telling lots of truths without naming too many names. Hopefully his session will have been an eye-opener for those present starting on their journey as screenwriters. Plenty of my creative writing MA students came along too, and stayed around to chat afterwards. All in all, our first joint masterclass with ESSaMA was a rousing success.
Next day it was up before dawn to catch a flight to New York for a city break in the Big Apple. Rather than check into a hotel, spent four nights in a studio apartment near the Flatiron building, rented via the airbnb.com website. Wonderfully central location on Lexington Avenue, pretty much walking distance from everything south of Central Park with the subway only a block away. Aces.
Trip was blessed with incredible weather - glorious sunshine all but the last day, autumnal yet warm and welcoming. The only other time I'd been in New York was a week after New Year's, when the temperature never got up to zero and a foot of snow covered every surface - bitterly cold, in short. The contrast couldn't haven't been more stark, and this trip couldn't have been better timed.
Saturday was about settling in and getting comfortable. Up before dawn on Sunday to go on an architectural walking tour - the Flatiron, Empire State, 30 Rock, etc. Went to see the Broadway production of A Steady Rain, starring Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman. Had a walk through Central Park, basking in sunshine while people ice skated. Watched the season finale of Mad Men as it was broadcast. Class.
Monday was shopping day, particularly SoHo and the East Village. Met up with 2000AD artist Simon Fraser for lunch at Katz's Diner, sight of that infamous scene from When Harry Met Sally where Meg Ryan fakes an orgasm. Yes, the sandwiches there are that good. A real slice of old New York, the diner's closing soon so the whole block can be rebuilt. It'll return, but will never be quite the same.
Tuesday was culture day, an amazing exhibition of paintings by Kandinsky at the Guggenheim Museum. Another stroll through sun-baked Central Park, pausing to admire the Alice In Wonderful sculpture. Bizarrely, someone chose that moment to practise their bagpipes in the park. Badly. Seems I can leave Scotland to go on holiday, but I can guarantee to escape it. An odd moment.
Wednesday was packing up day. Wandered round an open air organic market in Union Square and saw Oscar-tipped Brit movie An Education at the pictures. Lovely. Then the long schlep back to Newark airport for the flight home. Only at the last did anything go wrong, as my broken seat wouldn't recline. Made for a very uncomfortable 7+ hour flight, thanks to my ever-broken tailbone.
Back home from Edinburgh, had a bath and then drove into Glasgow to talk about narrative, comics and new technology at a digital forum called Cross Creative. Can't recall what I said in my jet-lagged state, but it seemed to go alright. Back home again to collapse. Into uni next day to lead a class, do some mentoring and attempt to plot the way forwards. Quite a couple of weeks.
Today I've got some ideas to develop for Doctors and thoughts to prepare for a meeting in That Fancy London tomorrow. Happily, I'm not getting the pre-dawn flight down, so I don't have to rise at 4am to start my travels. But it will be a long day, and then I'm back teaching at Edinburgh Napier University the rest of the week. In no time that four-day city break seems a long time ago. Such is life.
The week before last was a crazed runaround, doing a thousand things at once before going holiday. Had the pleasure of hosting a masterclass session with James Moran at what's now called ESSaMA - the Edinburgh Skillset Screen and Media Academy. Back when I was studying screenwriting there, it was just Screen Academy Scotland. [Perhaps they realised somebody else was using the acronym SAS.]
James was a delight - funny, informative, telling lots of truths without naming too many names. Hopefully his session will have been an eye-opener for those present starting on their journey as screenwriters. Plenty of my creative writing MA students came along too, and stayed around to chat afterwards. All in all, our first joint masterclass with ESSaMA was a rousing success.
Next day it was up before dawn to catch a flight to New York for a city break in the Big Apple. Rather than check into a hotel, spent four nights in a studio apartment near the Flatiron building, rented via the airbnb.com website. Wonderfully central location on Lexington Avenue, pretty much walking distance from everything south of Central Park with the subway only a block away. Aces.
Trip was blessed with incredible weather - glorious sunshine all but the last day, autumnal yet warm and welcoming. The only other time I'd been in New York was a week after New Year's, when the temperature never got up to zero and a foot of snow covered every surface - bitterly cold, in short. The contrast couldn't haven't been more stark, and this trip couldn't have been better timed.
Saturday was about settling in and getting comfortable. Up before dawn on Sunday to go on an architectural walking tour - the Flatiron, Empire State, 30 Rock, etc. Went to see the Broadway production of A Steady Rain, starring Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman. Had a walk through Central Park, basking in sunshine while people ice skated. Watched the season finale of Mad Men as it was broadcast. Class.
Monday was shopping day, particularly SoHo and the East Village. Met up with 2000AD artist Simon Fraser for lunch at Katz's Diner, sight of that infamous scene from When Harry Met Sally where Meg Ryan fakes an orgasm. Yes, the sandwiches there are that good. A real slice of old New York, the diner's closing soon so the whole block can be rebuilt. It'll return, but will never be quite the same.
Tuesday was culture day, an amazing exhibition of paintings by Kandinsky at the Guggenheim Museum. Another stroll through sun-baked Central Park, pausing to admire the Alice In Wonderful sculpture. Bizarrely, someone chose that moment to practise their bagpipes in the park. Badly. Seems I can leave Scotland to go on holiday, but I can guarantee to escape it. An odd moment.
Wednesday was packing up day. Wandered round an open air organic market in Union Square and saw Oscar-tipped Brit movie An Education at the pictures. Lovely. Then the long schlep back to Newark airport for the flight home. Only at the last did anything go wrong, as my broken seat wouldn't recline. Made for a very uncomfortable 7+ hour flight, thanks to my ever-broken tailbone.
Back home from Edinburgh, had a bath and then drove into Glasgow to talk about narrative, comics and new technology at a digital forum called Cross Creative. Can't recall what I said in my jet-lagged state, but it seemed to go alright. Back home again to collapse. Into uni next day to lead a class, do some mentoring and attempt to plot the way forwards. Quite a couple of weeks.
Today I've got some ideas to develop for Doctors and thoughts to prepare for a meeting in That Fancy London tomorrow. Happily, I'm not getting the pre-dawn flight down, so I don't have to rise at 4am to start my travels. But it will be a long day, and then I'm back teaching at Edinburgh Napier University the rest of the week. In no time that four-day city break seems a long time ago. Such is life.
Monday, November 02, 2009
New Home Office rules ban graphic novelist
Comic artist Nikhil Singh, illustrator of the acclaimed graphic novelSalem Brownstone: All Along the Watchtowers has been held in South Africa for five months - unable to attend his own book launch - due to new Home Office rules that deem him 'underqualified'.South Africa-born Singh has been a resident of London for three years, but cannot return due to the Home Office's decision not to renew any Artists' Visas. This means international artists whose visas have expired must reapply for a Tier One Highly Skilled Worker Visa which cannot be obtained without a degree or similar proof of tertiary education.
Despite being illustrator of a graphic novel acclaimed by the Financial Times, the Sunday Express and comics legend Alan Moore, Singh was told he does not qualify for this visa because he does not have a degree. He was also made to take an English language test, despite having worked in the UK as a journalist for many years.
Unable to leave South Africa for the past five months, Singh has lost his London home and been unable to see his girlfriend of seven years as a result. He has spent more than £2,000 appealing this process, without success.
Nikhil Singh says: "This new legislature speaks poorly of a country previously renowned as an international nexus of arts and culture. The fact that so many academics and artists are being refused entry for such petty reasons only weakens England's cultural backbone. The new immigration laws have insinuated an atmosphere of creative policing that is entirely out of character with the various professions it has effected."
Paul Gravett, Director of Comica Festival and author of Graphic Novels: Stories to Change Your Life says: "The refusal of Nikhil Singh's application for a Highly Skilled Worker Visa ... is short-sighted and prejudiced towards the graphic novel medium, and plainly ignores his exceptional merits. One look at the extraordinary craftsmanship of his contributions to the Salem Brownstone graphic novel would convince anyone Nikhil is not only 'highly skilled' but a visionary artist of international standing."
Salem Brownstone: All Along the Watchtowers launched in a sell-out Salem Spooktacular event at the Institute of Contemporary Arts in London last month.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Art for Hearts charity auction
Normally I don't plug charity events on this blog unless they're to do with some form of cancer research [I've lost too many good people to the big C]. But this appeal from regular Vicious Imagery reader Ian Stacey sounds like a good cause to me... ART FOR HEARTS
I’m currently organising an auction to raise funds for research done by the transplant team at Great Ormond Street Hospital. This is a cause very dear to my family - our son’s life was saved by a heart transplant four weeks after birth. The auction is original art and signed digital prints by children’s illustrators. I know this is an unusual subject for your blog but we would appreciate any publicity we could get.
The ART FOR HEARTS auction features work donated by children’s illustrators such as Korky Paul, Lynne Chapman and An Vrombaut. Most of the art is original although there are also some signed digital prints and screen prints too. All proceeds will help fund research by the transplant team at GOSH. Transplanted organs do not have the same life expectancy as non-transplanted organs and the team is seeking ways to combat this.
Full details of the auction are available to view here. It will run on Ebay for a week from Monday, November 2nd.
Monday, October 26, 2009
My journey with 'Doctors'. so far
Nope, I'm not at this year's Screenwriters' Festival in Cheltenham. Wish I was, especially now the event's closer to the town centre, but commitments elsewhere precluded me attending. I've papers to mark for the creative writing MA, lectures to plan, a script to polish, and pitches to develop for Fantomen and Doctors. Instead of talking about writing, I'll actually be writing.
So, for all those people who wish they could be at SWF 09 but aren't, here's a behind the scenes peek at the long process by which I got my first TV drama screenwriting credit. Way back in 2002 I met a writer who was then a regular Doctors scribe. He encouraged me to try out for the medical drama series, promising to put a good word in for me with his script editor. Shame I wasn't ready.
I did have the good sense to watch the show, get to know the cast. Nailing the regulars is essentially on a continuing drama like Doctors. Stories of the day may be the show's bread and butter, but it's the trials and tribulations faced by the regulars that keep viewers coming back. Anyway, I made a classic blunder - I wrote a Doctors spec script and sent it in to Doctors for their consideration.
For a long time the spec script was a well worn path into US TV writing, but even there you never send a House spec script to the House script team. You send them a spec for another procedural show, to demonstrate you can write, plot and structure. [These days spec pilots are emerging as good calling cards across the Atlantic, but a good spec script still has its merits in the US system.]
Nobody wants to read a spec script for a UK show. You get invited to write a trial script, but that's a later stage in the process. First you have to impress somebody with your own, original writing. Sending a Doctors spec script to a Doctors script editor? Pure amateur hour. Unsurprisingly, it got ignored for months. But I was giving up on it, not just yet. [I'm nothing if not persistant.]
I schlepped all the way from Scotland to Leicester [not easily done in a day] for a 90-minute roadshow by the Doctors team. I introduced myself to the relevant script editor afterwards, and asked about my script. I even got the professional writer who'd first fired any interest to nag the poor script editor. Eventually, I got a response - a two line rejection letter. Not what I was hoping for.
I waited 48 hours, and phoned for more feedback. I needed more experience, come back when I'd got some. The script editor was absolutely right, but it wasn't easy to hear - especially when Doctors was [and still is, to some extent] to means by which many writers get their first experience of TV drama. If I couldn't write for Doctors, how was I supposed to get the necessary experience?
Fast forward to September 2007. I'd just finished my screenwriting MA, concentrating on TV drama. I'd also undertaken a clutch of courses to expand my skillset beyond what was taught on the course: TAPS script editing workshop; storylining for continuing drama workshop at the Script Factory; nine months being mentored by writer-director Adrian Mead; storylining workshop at the Emmerdale script department.
I'd also had a play broadcast by BBC Radio 4, a dozen audio dramas produced by Big Finish, numerous novels published and won an international screenwriting award for my short film script DANNY'S TOYS. In short, I'd gone away, got some experience and worked to improve my screenwriting craft skills. It was time for another letter to the same script editor at Doctors [fortunately, they were still there].
This time I knew better than to enclose a script. I simply asked for the chance to submit some of my original writing for consideration. The script editor replied, offering to pass this request down the food chain to an assistant - fine by me. I duly got an invitation to submit and sent in the script for my MA final project, FAMILIES AT WAR, along with a copy of DANNY'S TOYS.
They were well received and I was invited to write a trial script. The onset of Christmas meant my try-out got pushed to early 2008. [Patience and persistence are worth a lot, nothing happens quickly.] For the trial script I was given serial material from an old episode [not one I'd seen, as it happened, though I was watching the show faithfully in preparation for my trial script].
The serial contained the beats for my B and C stories, comprising about 30% of my script. My job was to blend that into a story of the day I'd invented, hopefully finding some resonance between them. For the Doctors trial script I was given ten calendar days from start to finish. Alas, none of my stockpiled A stories fit well with the supplied serial. Time to find another A story.
The trial script process is a great test of your ability to work fast and think faster. Normally each story of the day [SOTD] is developed over time. You get feedback from your script editor and it only gets to a commission if a series producer has approved it. Even then, you produce a scene by scene demonstrating how the SOTD works with supplied serial. On a trial, that's all down to you.
Despite having only ten days, I decided to follow the processes used to create a real episode. I choose my SOTD, researched the medical background and wrote it up into a two-page pitch. Next I worked on a scene by scene, integrating my SOTD with the serial material I'd been given. Only then did I dive into writing my trial script. I got that to a polished first draft, then sent it out for a quick read.
Feedback from fellow scribes helped smooth out a few lumps and bumps. One of my guest characters arrived too late in the script, but I couldn't find a good fix for that. The serial featured a regular whose voice I'd never managed to capture, but there was nothing I could do about. One final polish and off the finished script went. Happily, I didn't have to wait too long for an answer, maybe a week or three.
The news was good, my trial was enough to get a foot in the door. I'd earned the right to submit SOTD. But I was told in no uncertain terms this was just the beginning of a much longer journey. Getting an SOTD approved [a process known as being 'banked'] could take months, even years. There would be little or, more likely, no feedback on why pitches were rejected. Sheer weight of numbers precludes that.
[In a delicious irony, a newcomer at the script office BBC Scotland soap River City stumbled across FAMILIES AT WAR in their slushpile that same month. It had been submitted the previous September, around the same time I'd written to Doctor. The River City newcomer wrote me a rejection letter dissing my script. I wrote back with news of my successful Doctors trial. A nice moment.]
I started submitting SOTD pitches to Doctors, getting a few of them on the series producer's reading pile - but none were cutting the mustard. My handler in the script department took pity, getting me an invitation to the July 2008 Doctors mini-academy, a shadow scheme whereby eight writers spent five days in Birmingham learning how to better write for the show. This culminates in solo pitches.
There were no guarantees we would get a commission from these pitches, but it would help introduce us to the production team and might improve our chances in future. A golden opportunity, I was chuffed to bits. I resolved to have twelve brilliant ideas ready and select the best three for pitching. In the end I only managed nine before heading south to Birmingham, some stronger than others.
The mini-academy was a great experience, and a big boost for my confidence. Come the final morning I was pitching to the assistant who'd shepherded me through the system, the script editor who'd suffered my 2002 efforts and a producer. I pitched my best two ideas first, and got lots of positive comments. Feeling bullish, I pushed my luck with a third idea with the working title A PILL FOR EVERY ILL.
It was less developed than the others, needed more work done on it. As a consequence it got pulled apart, but there were some positive noises too. I decided to put that one on the back burner and concentrate on my two favourites. Once home, I rushed to submit full SOTD pitches for those two, confident at least one of them would hit the target. [The series producer had other ideas. Such is life.]
In September I submitted A PILL FOR EVERY ILL as a formal SOTD pitch. This featured tow regulars on the series clashing about how best to treat a patient, divided by their different medical ideologies - one old school, one more New Age. But cast changes had overtaken my pitch, the New Age character was leaving the show. Time for a rethink and a massive rewrite. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
Submitted a revised version of PILL in October 2008, swapping out one regular for another but keeping the essentials of my story intact. Still not quite there, more tweaks needed. The final version of my SOTD got added to the series producer's reading pile in November 2008. By this point my two favourites had been rejected and several other pitches were falling by the wayside.
Fast forward to February 2009: still no word on PILL, but more SOTD pitches get read and rejected. One year on from my successful trial, and I don't feel much closer to getting that elusive first pitch banked. Feeling a bit down, especially as others from the mini-academy are celebrating their first commissions. Tell myself patience and persistence will win the day - eventually.
June 2009: email from my champion inside the production office, who's now a fully fledged script editor. Good news, PILL has been banked. There's no guarantee that will lead to a full commission [and no money until that happens], but it's a step forward. My SOTD was on the reading pile for seven months, an indication of how much material the production team must wade through to fill 230 eps a year.
August 2009: get a phone call, PILL has been plucked from the story bank and paired with serial material for what will be Episode 199 of Doctors Series XI - am I up for writing a scene by scene? You bet. Do I mind shifting the action from one location to another? Not at all. Can I rewrite my SOTD so it's an entirely different doctor? Gulp! Yes, absolutely, of course I can. I've got a week to deliver.
This is it, the last stage at which I can fail and end up with nothing. I submit my effort a day earlier, and nervous waiting begins. I fully expect to asked for a rewrite of my scene by scene, the chances of nailing it first time - especially with so many changed elements from the original SOTD - seem remote. This is the moment of truth, where I could attain my first TV drama writing credit.
A week later I get my call, and the news is good. I've got to cut a fistful of scenes and there's plenty of nips and tucks to be made - but no need to revise my scene by scene. It's straight to script, a formal commission. Can I deliver my first draft within a week? I wheedle an extra day because I'll be spending the original deadline running a workshop at the Edinburgh International Book Festival.
But I didn't need that extra time, and deliver my first draft a day ahead of the original deadline. More anxious waiting. Lots of notes come back, but nothing major. Seems I've captured the regulars well, even two semi-regular characters who hadn't been cast yet. My response gets delayed as I'm away on a residential course for two days, but I still manage to deliver my second draft early.
Further drafts follow, honing and refining, but the bulk of my script remains exactly as it was in the original draft. I caught most of the target first time of asking, which makes everyones job that bit easier thereafter. Deliver my final draft before the end of September, by which point the director is about to start prep for the block of three eps that includes A PILL FOR EVERY ILL.
One month on and filming is complete. Post-production may already be underway. The end results of all that effort are due for broadcast on Wednesday, February 10th, 2010 - almost exactly two years on from my successful trial script. I was warned it could be a long journey to my first commission, and so it proved. Let's hope the journey to my second commission is a little less lengthy...
So, for all those people who wish they could be at SWF 09 but aren't, here's a behind the scenes peek at the long process by which I got my first TV drama screenwriting credit. Way back in 2002 I met a writer who was then a regular Doctors scribe. He encouraged me to try out for the medical drama series, promising to put a good word in for me with his script editor. Shame I wasn't ready.
I did have the good sense to watch the show, get to know the cast. Nailing the regulars is essentially on a continuing drama like Doctors. Stories of the day may be the show's bread and butter, but it's the trials and tribulations faced by the regulars that keep viewers coming back. Anyway, I made a classic blunder - I wrote a Doctors spec script and sent it in to Doctors for their consideration.
For a long time the spec script was a well worn path into US TV writing, but even there you never send a House spec script to the House script team. You send them a spec for another procedural show, to demonstrate you can write, plot and structure. [These days spec pilots are emerging as good calling cards across the Atlantic, but a good spec script still has its merits in the US system.]
Nobody wants to read a spec script for a UK show. You get invited to write a trial script, but that's a later stage in the process. First you have to impress somebody with your own, original writing. Sending a Doctors spec script to a Doctors script editor? Pure amateur hour. Unsurprisingly, it got ignored for months. But I was giving up on it, not just yet. [I'm nothing if not persistant.]
I schlepped all the way from Scotland to Leicester [not easily done in a day] for a 90-minute roadshow by the Doctors team. I introduced myself to the relevant script editor afterwards, and asked about my script. I even got the professional writer who'd first fired any interest to nag the poor script editor. Eventually, I got a response - a two line rejection letter. Not what I was hoping for.
I waited 48 hours, and phoned for more feedback. I needed more experience, come back when I'd got some. The script editor was absolutely right, but it wasn't easy to hear - especially when Doctors was [and still is, to some extent] to means by which many writers get their first experience of TV drama. If I couldn't write for Doctors, how was I supposed to get the necessary experience?
Fast forward to September 2007. I'd just finished my screenwriting MA, concentrating on TV drama. I'd also undertaken a clutch of courses to expand my skillset beyond what was taught on the course: TAPS script editing workshop; storylining for continuing drama workshop at the Script Factory; nine months being mentored by writer-director Adrian Mead; storylining workshop at the Emmerdale script department.
I'd also had a play broadcast by BBC Radio 4, a dozen audio dramas produced by Big Finish, numerous novels published and won an international screenwriting award for my short film script DANNY'S TOYS. In short, I'd gone away, got some experience and worked to improve my screenwriting craft skills. It was time for another letter to the same script editor at Doctors [fortunately, they were still there].
This time I knew better than to enclose a script. I simply asked for the chance to submit some of my original writing for consideration. The script editor replied, offering to pass this request down the food chain to an assistant - fine by me. I duly got an invitation to submit and sent in the script for my MA final project, FAMILIES AT WAR, along with a copy of DANNY'S TOYS.
They were well received and I was invited to write a trial script. The onset of Christmas meant my try-out got pushed to early 2008. [Patience and persistence are worth a lot, nothing happens quickly.] For the trial script I was given serial material from an old episode [not one I'd seen, as it happened, though I was watching the show faithfully in preparation for my trial script].
The serial contained the beats for my B and C stories, comprising about 30% of my script. My job was to blend that into a story of the day I'd invented, hopefully finding some resonance between them. For the Doctors trial script I was given ten calendar days from start to finish. Alas, none of my stockpiled A stories fit well with the supplied serial. Time to find another A story.
The trial script process is a great test of your ability to work fast and think faster. Normally each story of the day [SOTD] is developed over time. You get feedback from your script editor and it only gets to a commission if a series producer has approved it. Even then, you produce a scene by scene demonstrating how the SOTD works with supplied serial. On a trial, that's all down to you.
Despite having only ten days, I decided to follow the processes used to create a real episode. I choose my SOTD, researched the medical background and wrote it up into a two-page pitch. Next I worked on a scene by scene, integrating my SOTD with the serial material I'd been given. Only then did I dive into writing my trial script. I got that to a polished first draft, then sent it out for a quick read.
Feedback from fellow scribes helped smooth out a few lumps and bumps. One of my guest characters arrived too late in the script, but I couldn't find a good fix for that. The serial featured a regular whose voice I'd never managed to capture, but there was nothing I could do about. One final polish and off the finished script went. Happily, I didn't have to wait too long for an answer, maybe a week or three.
The news was good, my trial was enough to get a foot in the door. I'd earned the right to submit SOTD. But I was told in no uncertain terms this was just the beginning of a much longer journey. Getting an SOTD approved [a process known as being 'banked'] could take months, even years. There would be little or, more likely, no feedback on why pitches were rejected. Sheer weight of numbers precludes that.
[In a delicious irony, a newcomer at the script office BBC Scotland soap River City stumbled across FAMILIES AT WAR in their slushpile that same month. It had been submitted the previous September, around the same time I'd written to Doctor. The River City newcomer wrote me a rejection letter dissing my script. I wrote back with news of my successful Doctors trial. A nice moment.]
I started submitting SOTD pitches to Doctors, getting a few of them on the series producer's reading pile - but none were cutting the mustard. My handler in the script department took pity, getting me an invitation to the July 2008 Doctors mini-academy, a shadow scheme whereby eight writers spent five days in Birmingham learning how to better write for the show. This culminates in solo pitches.
There were no guarantees we would get a commission from these pitches, but it would help introduce us to the production team and might improve our chances in future. A golden opportunity, I was chuffed to bits. I resolved to have twelve brilliant ideas ready and select the best three for pitching. In the end I only managed nine before heading south to Birmingham, some stronger than others.
The mini-academy was a great experience, and a big boost for my confidence. Come the final morning I was pitching to the assistant who'd shepherded me through the system, the script editor who'd suffered my 2002 efforts and a producer. I pitched my best two ideas first, and got lots of positive comments. Feeling bullish, I pushed my luck with a third idea with the working title A PILL FOR EVERY ILL.
It was less developed than the others, needed more work done on it. As a consequence it got pulled apart, but there were some positive noises too. I decided to put that one on the back burner and concentrate on my two favourites. Once home, I rushed to submit full SOTD pitches for those two, confident at least one of them would hit the target. [The series producer had other ideas. Such is life.]
In September I submitted A PILL FOR EVERY ILL as a formal SOTD pitch. This featured tow regulars on the series clashing about how best to treat a patient, divided by their different medical ideologies - one old school, one more New Age. But cast changes had overtaken my pitch, the New Age character was leaving the show. Time for a rethink and a massive rewrite. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
Submitted a revised version of PILL in October 2008, swapping out one regular for another but keeping the essentials of my story intact. Still not quite there, more tweaks needed. The final version of my SOTD got added to the series producer's reading pile in November 2008. By this point my two favourites had been rejected and several other pitches were falling by the wayside.
Fast forward to February 2009: still no word on PILL, but more SOTD pitches get read and rejected. One year on from my successful trial, and I don't feel much closer to getting that elusive first pitch banked. Feeling a bit down, especially as others from the mini-academy are celebrating their first commissions. Tell myself patience and persistence will win the day - eventually.
June 2009: email from my champion inside the production office, who's now a fully fledged script editor. Good news, PILL has been banked. There's no guarantee that will lead to a full commission [and no money until that happens], but it's a step forward. My SOTD was on the reading pile for seven months, an indication of how much material the production team must wade through to fill 230 eps a year.
August 2009: get a phone call, PILL has been plucked from the story bank and paired with serial material for what will be Episode 199 of Doctors Series XI - am I up for writing a scene by scene? You bet. Do I mind shifting the action from one location to another? Not at all. Can I rewrite my SOTD so it's an entirely different doctor? Gulp! Yes, absolutely, of course I can. I've got a week to deliver.
This is it, the last stage at which I can fail and end up with nothing. I submit my effort a day earlier, and nervous waiting begins. I fully expect to asked for a rewrite of my scene by scene, the chances of nailing it first time - especially with so many changed elements from the original SOTD - seem remote. This is the moment of truth, where I could attain my first TV drama writing credit.
A week later I get my call, and the news is good. I've got to cut a fistful of scenes and there's plenty of nips and tucks to be made - but no need to revise my scene by scene. It's straight to script, a formal commission. Can I deliver my first draft within a week? I wheedle an extra day because I'll be spending the original deadline running a workshop at the Edinburgh International Book Festival.
But I didn't need that extra time, and deliver my first draft a day ahead of the original deadline. More anxious waiting. Lots of notes come back, but nothing major. Seems I've captured the regulars well, even two semi-regular characters who hadn't been cast yet. My response gets delayed as I'm away on a residential course for two days, but I still manage to deliver my second draft early.
Further drafts follow, honing and refining, but the bulk of my script remains exactly as it was in the original draft. I caught most of the target first time of asking, which makes everyones job that bit easier thereafter. Deliver my final draft before the end of September, by which point the director is about to start prep for the block of three eps that includes A PILL FOR EVERY ILL.
One month on and filming is complete. Post-production may already be underway. The end results of all that effort are due for broadcast on Wednesday, February 10th, 2010 - almost exactly two years on from my successful trial script. I was warned it could be a long journey to my first commission, and so it proved. Let's hope the journey to my second commission is a little less lengthy...
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Going on location with Doctors
It's been a madcap few weeks, and I can't see things slowing down for a while yet. Since this is one of my rare days at home without a screaming deadline [plenty of deadlines, just none of them screaming yet], thought I'd say hello and tell you what I've doing lately. Teaching, lots of teaching. Writing, plenty of that too. Polishing my submission for the Scotland Writes opportunity, especially.
But I spent the weekend away, most of it in That Fancy London. Had a reunion dinner with almost everyone from the Lighthouse TV drama team writing project, lovely to catch up and see how people are doing. Since we last met in April there's been a marriage in the ranks, and a new baby is imminent. Lots of writing, plenty of successes, more to come. Rest of weekend with friends, and saw Zombieland. Aces.
Sunday I headed into the Midlands and spent the night with Quakers. [They really are the friendliest of people.] Monday, I was on location watching filming for my first ever TV screenwriting commission. It's an episode of medical drama Doctors, due to be broadcast by BBC1 on Wednesday February 10, 2010. [Contract obligations preclude me telling you anything about the plot, especially serial elements.]
So what can I say? The day was spent shooting at two locations, both privately-owned homes. First thing was three scenes at a home in Bournville, the suburb built by Lord Cadbury for his workers. [Appropriately enough, the owner left out a massive bowl of chocolate buttons which were happily consumed by cast and crew. As a consequence this residence is nacknamed the Chocolate House.]
Two of the three scenes called for an infant actor, which creates it own problems. Doctors is shot on a tight, tight schedule. That means there isn't much time for the toddler to do what's needed, and infants don't always perform upon demand. Tricky! Having completed that sequence, it was into the vans and across the suburbs to another location. Two exteriors were needed, before heading indoors.
The first was an establishing shot, which looked beautiful. The second proved tougher, with dialogue, plus characters coming and going, all of which needed to be captured from different angles. Doctors doesn't have permission to shut down streets, so it can be at the mercy of passing pedestrians, planes flying overhead - and, especially, traffic. Challenging is not the word for it!
Despite all these factors, the final exterior for the day was completed before lunch. [Just as well, since a day that started beautiful turned grey after lunch with sheets of rain lashing past at times.] After a pub lunch, it was indoors for a plethora of scenes from my story of the day - and another infant actor. The wee mite was a star, but filming round a toddler is never straight forward.
I stayed till late afternoon, but had to leave before five. The cast and crew still had hours of week ahead of them, but were remaining remarkably good humoured. They made me very welcome and I managed to keep out of the way 99% of the time. Spending a day on set certainly gave me new found respect for how hard a throwaway sentence in a script can make life for those shooting your story.
So, what did I learn from my day on location with Doctors? Having one infant in your story is asking for trouble - having two is verging on sadism. It's not enough to think about your scene to scene transitions, you also need to think about transitions within each scene; how the balance of power shifts between characters, how the energy rises and falls, how to find the best endpoint.
Having been to plenty of recordings of my work, I wasn't surprised to hear my words sound very different when acted by professionals. I'd a fair idea how the regulars would say their lines, but the guest actors for my story of the day found new angles and corners I hadn't noticed in the script. Suspect I've lucked out with them. All in all, a fascinating glimpse behind the scenes for me.
The experience has left me more determined than ever to get more scripts commissioned. I've two pitches lurking in the big pile, waiting to be read, but nothing in the story bank. Need to get more proposals into the works. I've broken my duck, but now I need to prove that wasn't a fluke. One broadcast credit proves I've not a total novice, but it's credits two, three and four that show you're a professional.
But I spent the weekend away, most of it in That Fancy London. Had a reunion dinner with almost everyone from the Lighthouse TV drama team writing project, lovely to catch up and see how people are doing. Since we last met in April there's been a marriage in the ranks, and a new baby is imminent. Lots of writing, plenty of successes, more to come. Rest of weekend with friends, and saw Zombieland. Aces.
Sunday I headed into the Midlands and spent the night with Quakers. [They really are the friendliest of people.] Monday, I was on location watching filming for my first ever TV screenwriting commission. It's an episode of medical drama Doctors, due to be broadcast by BBC1 on Wednesday February 10, 2010. [Contract obligations preclude me telling you anything about the plot, especially serial elements.]
So what can I say? The day was spent shooting at two locations, both privately-owned homes. First thing was three scenes at a home in Bournville, the suburb built by Lord Cadbury for his workers. [Appropriately enough, the owner left out a massive bowl of chocolate buttons which were happily consumed by cast and crew. As a consequence this residence is nacknamed the Chocolate House.]
Two of the three scenes called for an infant actor, which creates it own problems. Doctors is shot on a tight, tight schedule. That means there isn't much time for the toddler to do what's needed, and infants don't always perform upon demand. Tricky! Having completed that sequence, it was into the vans and across the suburbs to another location. Two exteriors were needed, before heading indoors.
The first was an establishing shot, which looked beautiful. The second proved tougher, with dialogue, plus characters coming and going, all of which needed to be captured from different angles. Doctors doesn't have permission to shut down streets, so it can be at the mercy of passing pedestrians, planes flying overhead - and, especially, traffic. Challenging is not the word for it!
Despite all these factors, the final exterior for the day was completed before lunch. [Just as well, since a day that started beautiful turned grey after lunch with sheets of rain lashing past at times.] After a pub lunch, it was indoors for a plethora of scenes from my story of the day - and another infant actor. The wee mite was a star, but filming round a toddler is never straight forward.
I stayed till late afternoon, but had to leave before five. The cast and crew still had hours of week ahead of them, but were remaining remarkably good humoured. They made me very welcome and I managed to keep out of the way 99% of the time. Spending a day on set certainly gave me new found respect for how hard a throwaway sentence in a script can make life for those shooting your story.
So, what did I learn from my day on location with Doctors? Having one infant in your story is asking for trouble - having two is verging on sadism. It's not enough to think about your scene to scene transitions, you also need to think about transitions within each scene; how the balance of power shifts between characters, how the energy rises and falls, how to find the best endpoint.
Having been to plenty of recordings of my work, I wasn't surprised to hear my words sound very different when acted by professionals. I'd a fair idea how the regulars would say their lines, but the guest actors for my story of the day found new angles and corners I hadn't noticed in the script. Suspect I've lucked out with them. All in all, a fascinating glimpse behind the scenes for me.
The experience has left me more determined than ever to get more scripts commissioned. I've two pitches lurking in the big pile, waiting to be read, but nothing in the story bank. Need to get more proposals into the works. I've broken my duck, but now I need to prove that wasn't a fluke. One broadcast credit proves I've not a total novice, but it's credits two, three and four that show you're a professional.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Belated happy birthday for this blog
Vicious Imagery turned four on Saturday and I forgot. Too busy engaged with manual labour elsewhere - totting that barge, lifting that bale. Got the aches and strains to prove it, too. Bent over like an enfeebled question mark as a consequence. Being a writer prepares you for many things in life, but physical labour isn't one of them. Still, I should recover by the end of today.
This blog was launched as an online journal for the screenwriting MA I'd just started at Screen Academy Scotland. By happy coincidence I spent Friday night socialising with several students from my academy days. Each of us has followed a different path since completing the course. Some have abandoned screenwriting altogether, others are keeping their dream alive but mostly writing for other media.
Nobody said it would be easy [in fact, almost everybody told us how hard it would be]. Common wisdom seems to suggest it takes five to ten years to make it as a screenwriter. I can't claim anything close to having made it, but I can see signs of progress. Next Monday I'll be in Birmingham to see my first TV drama being filmed, an episode of Doctors for broadcast on BBC1 next February.
Today I've got a couple of meetings about projects [no names, no pack drill available]. Will anything come of them? I've no idea. Just as I'm terrible at taking a compliment, so I always guilty of lowering expectations whenever possible to shield myself from disappointment. But deep down inside, I dearly love these projects to happen. For now, as ever - onwards!
This blog was launched as an online journal for the screenwriting MA I'd just started at Screen Academy Scotland. By happy coincidence I spent Friday night socialising with several students from my academy days. Each of us has followed a different path since completing the course. Some have abandoned screenwriting altogether, others are keeping their dream alive but mostly writing for other media.
Nobody said it would be easy [in fact, almost everybody told us how hard it would be]. Common wisdom seems to suggest it takes five to ten years to make it as a screenwriter. I can't claim anything close to having made it, but I can see signs of progress. Next Monday I'll be in Birmingham to see my first TV drama being filmed, an episode of Doctors for broadcast on BBC1 next February.
Today I've got a couple of meetings about projects [no names, no pack drill available]. Will anything come of them? I've no idea. Just as I'm terrible at taking a compliment, so I always guilty of lowering expectations whenever possible to shield myself from disappointment. But deep down inside, I dearly love these projects to happen. For now, as ever - onwards!
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Go read Michelle's post
The wonderful Michelle Lipton has made life easy for me this morning, posting an intelligent and empowering blog about the difficult pathway to becoming a full-time, freelance writer. Since I agree with everything she's written, I suggest you go visit her blog and read what she has to say. That is all.
Monday, October 05, 2009
"Crime and football" - pull the other one, STV
[Another rant - sorry.] STV's director of content Alan Clements has fessed up that dumping most of ITV's dramas from the Scottish broadcaster's schedule is all about money. He told industry trade paper Broadcast last week that shedding the likes of Lewis, The Bill and Doc Martin was saving STV £4.5 million. The company was cutting its cloth sensibly, making a profit while ITV posts losses.
Compare this to what STV said after refusing to show Lewis in March: "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."
Clements also admitted dropping The X Factor or Coronation Street was out of the question, while dumping factual shows saved too little money to be worthwhile. But not all of his reported statements hold water. According to Broadcast, Clements said: "We know what our audience likes - crime and football. We have to create a relevant and affordable and informative schedule for Scottish viewers."
If STV viewers are so fond of crime, why has the broadcaster dumped long-running police drama The Bill? Or murder mystery series like Lewis? Or favourite whodunnits like Marple? Or crime thrillers like The Fixer? If STV viewers like football, why does the broadcaster show so few lives matches? Pull the other one, STV, you're not fooling anybody with your feeble attempts at misdirection.
Here's the most telling comment in Clements' interview with Broadcast: "We have to create a relevant and affordable and informative schedule for Scottish viewers." One word stands out amongst all of that, doesn't it? AFFORDABLE. That's the real reason. Everything else is just window dressing, wrapping a kilt around content in a transparent attempt to please jingoistic numbskulls.
"What we are doing is good for us and good for Scotland," Clements reportedly said. Well, he's half right.
Compare this to what STV said after refusing to show Lewis in March: "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."
Clements also admitted dropping The X Factor or Coronation Street was out of the question, while dumping factual shows saved too little money to be worthwhile. But not all of his reported statements hold water. According to Broadcast, Clements said: "We know what our audience likes - crime and football. We have to create a relevant and affordable and informative schedule for Scottish viewers."
If STV viewers are so fond of crime, why has the broadcaster dumped long-running police drama The Bill? Or murder mystery series like Lewis? Or favourite whodunnits like Marple? Or crime thrillers like The Fixer? If STV viewers like football, why does the broadcaster show so few lives matches? Pull the other one, STV, you're not fooling anybody with your feeble attempts at misdirection.
Here's the most telling comment in Clements' interview with Broadcast: "We have to create a relevant and affordable and informative schedule for Scottish viewers." One word stands out amongst all of that, doesn't it? AFFORDABLE. That's the real reason. Everything else is just window dressing, wrapping a kilt around content in a transparent attempt to please jingoistic numbskulls.
"What we are doing is good for us and good for Scotland," Clements reportedly said. Well, he's half right.
Friday, October 02, 2009
Movement, progress and momentum
The results of this year's Page International Screenwriting Awards are in and THE WOMAN WHO SCREAMED BUTTERFLIES didn't win a prize. Such is life. I'm proud my script was one of ten finalists in the short film category, even if TWWSB couldn't repeat the success of DANNY'S TOYS in 2007. The Page Awards received nearly 4400 scripts from 58 countries this year, so getting as far as I did in my category is still noteworthy.
The upside is that two different parties are keen on developing TWWSB. Perversely, not winning anything at the Page Awards makes it easier to press on. No hands have been shaken or deals struck yet - but I've more hope of this script being made than I did for DANNY'S TOYS. That required animation and was going to cost a bomb. TWWSB has its challenges, but could be made relatively cheaply. Time will tell.
What else? My first script for Doctors is pretty much done and dusted. Not sure if it's been absolutely, formally locked, but everyone seems happy with my efforts. The director for the block has already started prep and filming's scheduled for later this month. I'd love to pop down to Birmingham for a day to observe, but that will require the alignment of many different planets. Keep you posted.
Once my script has been locked, it's back to the blank page for me at Doctors. I don't have any more story of the day ideas already approved and in the bank, waiting for a slot. Two of my pitches are lurking in a pile, waiting to be read, but it can take months [and months sometimes] before I'll hear back about them. So I need to develop and submit some more fresh ideas, building on what I've learned.
Despite being back at zero in some way, I've achieved two significant things with my first Doctors script. Getting that first broadcast credit makes me that little bit more credible as a TV drama writer. I'm not just talking the talk, I've taken my first baby steps on the career path. Now comes the even harder part - securing a second commission, and a third. Proving one wasn't a fluke. Can I build up some momentum?
The other achievement is less tangible, but perhaps just as important - performing as a professional writer. My scene by scene breakdown did its job well, even if I had too many scenes. My first draft nailed both my story of the day, and captured the voices of the regular characters. Continuing dramas like Doctors depend on their regulars to hook audiences and keep viewers coming back for more.
Most of all, I delivered all my drafts on deadline [ahead of them, in fact] and took on board notes. The latter statement isn't just implementing notes, it's about trying to make the script even better. Being professional is about making everybody else's job easier if you can. It's a collaboration, not an us and them situation. Always think to yourself, "How can we make this script better?"
In ten years as a comics editor, I worked with dozens of freelance writers. High maintenance individuals who needed their hand held through every single bloody stage of the process didn't last for long. Writers who argued over every notes were almost always more trouble than they were worth. I didn't want to work with writers like that. If I had to, I would minimize contact as much as possible.
When I went freelance, I made a vow not to become a high maintenance writer. All the talent in the world will only get you so far if you're a nightmare. Be professional and people will want to work with you again. Make their job easier by doing good work and they'll employ you again. If you can't be a genius - and far of us are - be a professional. That's how you progress your career. Onwards!
The upside is that two different parties are keen on developing TWWSB. Perversely, not winning anything at the Page Awards makes it easier to press on. No hands have been shaken or deals struck yet - but I've more hope of this script being made than I did for DANNY'S TOYS. That required animation and was going to cost a bomb. TWWSB has its challenges, but could be made relatively cheaply. Time will tell.
What else? My first script for Doctors is pretty much done and dusted. Not sure if it's been absolutely, formally locked, but everyone seems happy with my efforts. The director for the block has already started prep and filming's scheduled for later this month. I'd love to pop down to Birmingham for a day to observe, but that will require the alignment of many different planets. Keep you posted.
Once my script has been locked, it's back to the blank page for me at Doctors. I don't have any more story of the day ideas already approved and in the bank, waiting for a slot. Two of my pitches are lurking in a pile, waiting to be read, but it can take months [and months sometimes] before I'll hear back about them. So I need to develop and submit some more fresh ideas, building on what I've learned.
Despite being back at zero in some way, I've achieved two significant things with my first Doctors script. Getting that first broadcast credit makes me that little bit more credible as a TV drama writer. I'm not just talking the talk, I've taken my first baby steps on the career path. Now comes the even harder part - securing a second commission, and a third. Proving one wasn't a fluke. Can I build up some momentum?
The other achievement is less tangible, but perhaps just as important - performing as a professional writer. My scene by scene breakdown did its job well, even if I had too many scenes. My first draft nailed both my story of the day, and captured the voices of the regular characters. Continuing dramas like Doctors depend on their regulars to hook audiences and keep viewers coming back for more.
Most of all, I delivered all my drafts on deadline [ahead of them, in fact] and took on board notes. The latter statement isn't just implementing notes, it's about trying to make the script even better. Being professional is about making everybody else's job easier if you can. It's a collaboration, not an us and them situation. Always think to yourself, "How can we make this script better?"
In ten years as a comics editor, I worked with dozens of freelance writers. High maintenance individuals who needed their hand held through every single bloody stage of the process didn't last for long. Writers who argued over every notes were almost always more trouble than they were worth. I didn't want to work with writers like that. If I had to, I would minimize contact as much as possible.
When I went freelance, I made a vow not to become a high maintenance writer. All the talent in the world will only get you so far if you're a nightmare. Be professional and people will want to work with you again. Make their job easier by doing good work and they'll employ you again. If you can't be a genius - and far of us are - be a professional. That's how you progress your career. Onwards!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
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!
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!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
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!
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!
Sunday, September 20, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
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 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.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
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]:
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!
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!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.
Don't you be so glum (you know)
Might never happen, buddy
Worse things at sea
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!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
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.
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.Monday, September 14, 2009
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 SmallMy 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...
* 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
Saturday, September 12, 2009
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.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.
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?
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
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!
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!
Sunday, September 06, 2009
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.
Friday, September 04, 2009
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.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
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!
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!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
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!
Friday, August 21, 2009
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!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
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!
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!
Saturday, August 15, 2009
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.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
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.
Sod Superman. That's what I call a great cover.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, August 03, 2009
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!
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!
Saturday, August 01, 2009
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