Stuart Perry's Displacement Activities

A Random Rattle Bag of Thoughts

2010-07-29T21:00:00.000+01:00

I was drafting a new, and let’s face it, long overdue, blog post with an update on where I am with my screenwriting comeback(!) and with some thoughts on writers’ block, which is obviously floating in the air as a topic at the moment. (I’m not blocked, by the way, but I have found that on resuming writing, I needed to relearn a lot of basic skills, like actually writing one word after the other – more on that another time.)

But, a few things have happened that I couldn’t let pass without comment, rant. So, this will be something of a random collection of scraps. Firstly - and I know everyone's talking about it, but I can't let it go by completely - there was the ridiculous and short-sighted decision by the ConDems to abolish the UK Film Council. Needless to say, I'm in agreement with Mike Leigh et al, and I do wonder about the thinking of a government, or any institution, that announces what it's going to tear down before it announces what it's going to build. Still, time will tell how/if any new system will work. Good luck to all of us in our funding applications yet to come...

...we're going to need it.

As some kind of compensation to writers, this year sees the return - in all its austerity-defying glory - of the Red Planet Competition. It is almost certainly the best screenwriting opportunity out there, particularly as it's free to enter. The deadline fast approaches, and my script and 60-word synopsis are being buffed up now, nearing completion despite all that writers' block that I didn't have. Another good luck to all who enter.

Next, and I know I'm late to the party again, but wasn't Sherlock absolutely excellent? I wasn't as blown away as I thought I'd be by the writing in this year's series of Doctor Who, so it's good to see the the Moff be fully Grand again. I've read a few online criticisms about one small aspect: Holmes seemed unnaturally slow on the uptake about the profession of the killer. But this allowed for a big, fantastic "He's Behind You" moment later on, so it was forgivable, I think. The ratings were good, so I'm looking forward to seeing some more.

Finally, it seems churlish to celebrate much, but Displacement Activities has quietly crept past it's three year anniversary as a going concern; and yes, I know there have been times when I've pushed the definition of 'going concern' to its absolute limit, but survival is all that matters: I'm still typing. A moment's reflection then (something along the lines of "Three years, and that's all the posts I managed? Sheesh") and then onwards.

Displacement Activities will Return in - I dunno - a bit, with:

"I done busted my writing bone, and other tales of Writer anxiety".

I like your manifesto, put it to the test-o

2010-05-20T13:30:00.000+01:00

Okay, so what happened is this: I became a father for the second time last Summer, the day job continued to become more and more consuming, and the continuing Global Economic Situation reduced the opportunities across the board for new screenwriters.

I was busy, therefore, and lucky too. But not in screenwriting. I thought it would be nice for a while to use my spare time to relax and be a normal person with a family and a, you know, respectable and profitable career. So, I stopped writing. I pretty much stopped tweeting too, and I let this blog die. I just let the old thing gather dust, no-one to notice it. I let it become a strange little thing in a corner of the internet. And over the months, the world moved on.

I had no ongoing writing projects, paid or unpaid. I had nothing sitting in anyone's in-tray to waste hope on. I was in the middle of a spec script, but someone else's too similar piece was just then announced for Summer 2010 broadcast on BBC4 so I stopped (which is possibly the nicest of the two ultimate ends for my spec scripts).

I did not hustle, I did not network. I read books on my commute, I played with my kids. I didn't relax. Instead of writing in my spare time, I was 'not writing'. Deliberately, consciously. Something still ate away at my mind. Ideas for stories nagged at me, and I had to resist them. Word of opportunities still managed to reach me, some of them (thank you Big Finish) too good to resist entering something.

It's often said that if you give up, you were never meant to be writer. There's something nice and Darwinian about that, but I think it's bollocks. The truth is writers can't give up in the same way junkies can't give up. Whether they're any good or not, or - completely unconnected - whether they have any success or not, is immaterial. We're all addicted.

So what finally changed my mind, and got me fully back on the skag? Well, for a socialist and old Labour party member such as me, a Tory government (or even half of one) is a hell of a spur. I thought - I've got to keep going, because there's things worth saying, things that need to be said. And, so inspired, I was just about to start on my comedy horror spec (it has subtext, okay, so don't judge!) when what hits my inbox but a political screenwriting opportunity. It's almost made to be.

The blog will henceforth be used to chart my attempts to restart. How easy is it to get back into the game? Is it harder than starting out? Don't think anyone's talked about that before - it should be interesting to see how it turns out. So, that's my manifesto...

... i.e. don't be surprised if it turns out I don't do any of it exactly.

Merry Christmas...

2009-12-25T08:06:00.001Z

...from Displacement Activities. I hope you have a great time; see you soon!

Pangs and Olson

2009-09-12T09:32:00.001+01:00

If you write, professionally or otherwise, and you haven't yet read this piece by Josh Olson, writer of the screenplay for A History of Violence and other things, then I suggest you read it immediately. (Go on - read it now, I'll still be here when you get back; be warned it contains language that may offend from the outset, blah, blah, blah).

Read it? Good. Okay - it's a lovely story, as you'd expect from a professional storyteller, and obviously there's a lot of truth there. But I felt the odd pang while reading it. For one thing, I can't help but think that there are plenty of anecdotes, books, and articles out there - a lot of them by professionals like Olson - that give diametrically opposite advice to his, i.e. hustle, network, use any relationships you can to get your work to a wider audience, nothing ventured nothing gained, etc.

Screenwriters can find mentors who are more established, and to do so is a good thing. And to do so will almost inevitably involve at some point asking someone a question that might get a reply along the lines of "I will not read your fucking script". But, it might just as easily get the response "Fuck yeah, I will read your script". Sometimes, it might be worth the risk to ask; but, how to ask the right way, and how to choose the right time to ask? Only experience can teach you those things.

The best advice I ever got was to treat the whole thing like you would asking someone out (and this goes for trying to get any writing gig, not just for trying to get a mentor): tread soft, be aware of non-verbal signals from the other person, choose the right time, don't push too hard, and don't look too desperate. I can't fault this advice. Trouble is, I have hardly ever asked anyone out in my entire life. I'm far too shy, and would end up waiting forever for that right time. It can be like that trying to get a writing gig too. The last thing you want to be as a screenwriter is shy; but, if you're of that disposition, I could see how you could read Olson's article and be scared off. That brings me to my second pang.

Olson says, quite rightly, that you can't dissuade a writer (or else they're not a writer). I agree with this. You need to have that slight mental defect that, no matter what, makes you feel guilty when you don't write. You need that. But you also need other things. You need to be able to forget your shyness sometimes and hustle, network, use any relationships you can to get your work to a wider audience, nothing ventured nothing gained, etc. You might not be able to dissuade a true writer from writing, but you might just be able to persuade him or her to never show anything they write to anyone ever again. I could get all macho here and say that this would be a good thing, as it would cut down on the competition, but I'm a soppy sod and I'd like anyone with the talent and something to say to get their work out there and recognised. And that brings me to my final pang.

How do any of us know we're talented, or that we've got to say is worth saying? It's all very well having self-belief, but deluded idiots have self-belief too. And writers are all - at least in my experience - riddled with doubts about everything. So how can we know? Only by asking someone qualified to answer. And the most qualified person is going to be a professional. So, I don't blame Olson's acquaintance for asking. It wasn't a 'dick move'. (Though it is bewildering to a screenwriter based in the UK to imagine a wannabe who has all their hopes pinned on one movie project - it's like the US have a film industry ferchrissakes; only wannabe novelists can behave like that in my country.)

Olson should have kept to his line and turned him down politely. And, of course, by the end of his tale, he realises this. But the acquaintance was at fault when he rejected the advice that had so carefully and thoughtfully been given. There's no excuse for that.

So, anyway, who wants to read my latest script then? Any takers? Don't all shout at once!

Little Things

2009-09-04T18:10:00.005+01:00

A few opportunities for short bits have come to my attention over the last few days:

Two competitions (each with entry fees) came courtesy of Lucy, one of which she is reading for: Prequel to Cannes and Vibe TV.

For the sketch-writers out there, Recorded For Training Purposes Series 4 is accepting unsolicited contributions. The full details are on the BBC Writers' Room website here. And thanks to Christine and Robin for drawing my attention to that one.

Finally, there's a Lighthouse competition for 30-second videos for an exhibition, 30 seconds of Fortune. I'm working on something for this one for two reasons: first, I haven't shot anything for quite a while and so I can warm up my film-making muscles before starting on a (slightly longer) short of my own that I aim to make next year. Second, I like the challenge of doing a narrative in 30 seconds (though entries don't have to be narrative).

If you enter any of them, good luck to you.

Sociable Commentaries

2009-09-02T18:37:00.001+01:00

Quite a lot that I know about writing, TV and film-making I have learnt from listening to commentaries on DVDs. I presume other people do this as well: an enormous wealth of useful information is available on the secondary audio track.

Alas, there is a lot of dross as well: I remember one, on a Fawlty Towers disc I believe, that consists of pretty much nothing but the director saying "This is a mid shot..." then "...and this is a long shot..." then "...and we're back to a mid shot now" for six times thirty minutes! And this is why I'm very excited about the forthcoming Fawlty re-release where John Cleese is commenting on every single episode. My wife does not understand this: she just thinks I'm buying stuff again that I already own, for the sake of hearing someone waffle over the action. Which is not even slightly true, obviously. Obviously.

In order that some of the dross be avoided, and that perhaps people can better explain purchases to their wives, husbands or partners (or at any rate just blame me), here are a couple of recommendations. One of the first and best I ever heard was Robert Rodriguez's talk track on El Mariachi, which is a veritable masterclass on getting the most out of a 'low-to-no' budget.

Another good pick is the first and second series sets of Father Ted, on each episode of which Graham Linehan details the writing process, explains why some things work and some things don't, picks holes, mercilessly slags off his own work in the Christmas special. At one point, he even starts explaining how he's going to make the commentaries on future episodes work better. He is incapable of opening his mouth without being informative and entertaining, and it's worth the weight of any comedy-writing workshop, trust me.

My latest commentary hero is Stephen Gallagher. As long-term readers and friends will know, I am a true Who geek. I buy all the Doctor Who DVDs as they come out, and watch and listen to all the extras. Whatever you think of the stories, Peter Davison's tend to have the best commentaries. Peter is always prepared, and always informative, but usually quite tongue in cheek too. It's a good mix. But on recent release Terminus (currently only available in a box set called the 'Black Guardian Trilogy') Stephen G bests him in both trivia and jokes. I would almost go as far as to recommend it even if you don't like Doctor Who (your wives, husbands or partners would love that, I'm sure). He really is that brilliant, and keeps a nifty blog too - check out Hauling Like a Brooligan, if you haven't already (and why would you not have, hmm?!).

And if anyone has any other recommendations of informative and/or entertaining DVD commentaries (film or TV), they'll be gratefully received at the usual address. Cheers.

What I did on my holidays...

2009-08-31T14:20:00.000+01:00

Hello, yes - I'm still alive, and so is the blog. I've had this place redecorated ("don't like it!") and changed my profile pic now that my hair's grown out a but and I'm more comfortable with my short-haired 'do'.

So, what have I been up to these last two months? Here's what: no writing. None. No scripts, no treatments, no outlines, no blog entries, barely any tweets, nary even a note for the milkman. It will probably shock a few people that I'm able to admit this. Thou shalt write every day is the first commandment of writers, after all. Oh well. After a sustained period of about five years solidly working on projects both paid for and speculative, I needed a break. Not a lot was happening on collaborations, or with my optioned stuff, and I had some 'real life' stuff to attend to (more on that later).

Does this mean I'm not a professional? Well, I've talked on the blog before about how my 9-5 day job is both a curse and a blessing, as it allows me wriggle-room when choosing what I work on, as my family won't be starving if I choose not to do particular jobs. Of course, this brings with it the risk that a golden opportunity or valuable learning experience might be passed up. Oh well, again. From talking to other professional writers, it seems that the credit crunch is biting, and opportunities are thin on the ground at the moment anyway.

And I wouldn't have had much attention to give them even if they had arisen. In summary: over the last eight weeks, I have escaped a heavy bout of redundancies at the day job, but will be waving good bye to a few old mates soon, as they weren't so lucky. Then, I had the responsibility of giving my sister - who lives about two and a half hours away from me - away at her wedding, and I was expecting the birth of my second son. Both these things are joyful occasions. But some of the joy rubs off when they are both due to happen on the same day.

Yes, as well as all the work preparing the home and family for the onslaught of a newborn, and working double hard at the day job to prepare for paternity leave, a lot of the weeks and days approaching the 15th August were very stressful, as this was not only the date of the wedding, but also the best guess due date of the baby too.

I only have one sibling, and my Dad is sadly no longer with us. I am the only close male relative of my sister - I have to be up at her place, get her to the church, walk her up the aisle, and later do a speech. Have to. I also have to be close to my wife, as I will be needed as her birth partner, to help her give birth to my child, then look after her once he's born. Have to do that too. So, it was up to luck and mother nature as to whether I'd get to do both these things. It was looking very dicey at some points. But it all worked out, my very tired wife, my son and I attended the wedding, came home the following day (without having a baby on the M25) and the day after that my wife went into labour. It's all about timing.

So personal circumstances have got in the way of my writing, but I don't think this is necessarily a bad thing. Personal circumstances are what feed into our writing, and make it better. Thou shalt live every day should be the first commandment of writers... and then write it all down, of course. Besides - as any of the Doctor Who fans reading this will know - there is a celebrated anecdote from the late Seventies of a normally dependable writer finding himself unable to complete a script because of personal circumstances. A crew was assigned and shooting was getting very close, so the producer and script editor had to step in, rework the scripts such as they were over the course of a weekend (hosed down with whisky and black coffee, so the legend goes). That story - a combination of the work of all three men - turned out to be City of Death, a fan favourite and still the highest-rated episode in the show's history. Score one for personal circumstances.

And I was lying anyway about doing absolutely no writing. Of course, I had to write a speech for the wedding. I mention this, because I was dreading it. I put it off for ages. Maybe this was writer's block, but I don't really believe in writer's block. I did the usual thing of staring at a piece of blank paper almost until my forehead started bleeding. But I couldn't think of anything. Do you know what I did in the end? I wrote it. Just put finger to keypad and got it out of my system; it took less than an hour. And on the day, it went down a storm and people were congratulating me for the rest of the evening. I felt like a writer again.

So, I feel good for my break, as if I'm getting some perspective. I stood atop the tower and looked down, I walked along the rim of the volcano and did my dance. Now, I return home with the elixir, etc, etc. Time to do some writing again. It seems apposite to be publishing this on the 31st August; September traditionally marks the start of a new school term. I'm on the cusp of phase 2 of my (so-called) career. It's going to be fun...

Forthcoming Event: William Akers

2009-06-21T10:13:00.003+01:00

A head's up about a screenwriting event at the Met Film School on 2nd July. William Akers is doing a workshop on 'Fatal Errors New (and experienced!) Writers Make!' See here for details. Looks like it could be a very good evening.

Danny Stack has a competition to win a ticket at his blog; but I think the closing date that Danny's advertising (at the time of writing) should read 23rd June rather than July. Good luck if you're entering.

William's website is yourscreenplaysucks.com, and his blog is yourscreenplaysucks.wordpress.com.

Isn't it about time for another blog post, Stuart?

2009-06-05T07:24:00.011+01:00

I should say so. Well, all the things on the 'Stuff to Do' pile mentioned in the last post are still there. I'm still researching the BBC Continuing Dramas despite not being in the running any more, but I'm concentrating now mainly on Doctors and building up a portfolio of episode ideas to develop into two page outlines, rather than going straight into writing a spec episode.

But mostly, all those things are taking a back seat to my writing a 30-minute pilot script for a CBBC series. It was something of a surprise to see the scheme advertised, as I don't remember the Beeb ever running something like this before; but, it's an obvious fit when you consider how many great writers started out in children's TV (including some of my personal TV writer faves: Russell T Davies, Steven Moffat, Matthew Graham, etc, etc.).

The turn-around time was also shorter than usual for schemes advertised on the Writers' Room website: only about a month between it being advertised and the deadline to get (postal only) entries in. No time to think too much about whether to do it, or how to do it, or what exactly to do. Good. Last year, I hadn't written any TV scripts at all; before starting this latest venture, I had never written anything for a children's audience. Best not to have time to think too much about the challenge.

It's invigorating, like any creative restriction. And at the end of this I'll have another type of script for my portfolio. So everyone's a winner. But, it's hard too - how on Earth to be sure your work will appeal to the target audience, if you don't have an 8-12 year old handy to ask. For now I'm writing it for me and my inner child. Time will tell if my inner child and I know anything about anything.

I can't make it to the Q&A event next Monday, but there may still be places available. And there's a good FAQ available here. Good luck if you're entering.

The 'Stuff To Do' pile

2009-05-08T14:15:00.000+01:00

My extensive research for the Writers' Academy is underway. This will mean watching and analysing all the shows, and I also plan to follow up my successful spec script exercise writing a modern Doctor Who episode, with a similar exercise for the show Doctors. Plus the day job, and some other writing bits and bobs (see below). And, you know, eating and sleep. So, posts might become a bit sporadic around here for a bit; because of this, I am doing a catch-all update of what I've got on the go, which will hopefully serve until I can next give the blog some TLC.

'Santa Baby', the Christmas TV project I'm working on with Colin Stevens of Deep End Films, is at the treatment stage; Colin is preparing some notes right now, after which there will no doubt be a new draft.

'Life Support' has just been reworked (it was the example script I sent with my Academy application). There were still a couple of flashback sequences sticking to the previous draft like barnacles, but I've scraped them off, and now it's pretty much the straight narrative I set out to write initially (though it took me a very circular route to get there).

Following the lead of the mighty Stack, I am seriously considering a self-produced short film. I have a short screenplay called 'The Last Intake' that, once it's had a polish, needs to be made and seen. This will definitely be something for the Autumn, but I shall be considering the logistics and doing that polish sooner than that. I'll also be thoroughly digesting the recent filming diaries of both Danny and Dan Turner to get some tips.

Plus, as most of the stuff I've been working on lately has been straight drama, I'm doing the first draft of a genre feature script, working title 'The Late Shift': no fuss, no over-thinking, just adding to it whenever I get a spare moment on a commuter train: getting it written rather than getting it right. And having fun. I outlined it a long time ago, and have been looking for a chance to get it drafted ever since. I've so far done 5 pages, and reading them back is definitely making me laugh. Shame about that, really, as it's a horror script. (I'm pulling your leg, it's actually a comedy horror and is supposed to make you laugh. Tee hee.)

Finally, if I get a moment between all that lot, this competition that Laura has posted about is very tempting too.

Music is my music is my music is my life

2009-05-06T09:00:00.001+01:00

I have been tagged by Piers to list seven songs that I'm into right now. Easy peasy: iTunes is my friend - I shall pluck a few of my top 25 recently played list. That way, I can't even cheat to make you think I've got better taste than I really have.

To link this with screenwriting in some way, as that is the main focus of this blog, a few words about music and screenwriting. On this subject, here's usually two main FAQ / FAQs (does the initialism stand for Frequently Asked Questions or Question singular? Answers on a postcard). The first is: should one listen to background music when one is writing? I say: Yes and No. I do like to have tunes on sometimes, particularly when I'm in full flow and typing away; but the moment I need to go into problem-solving mode, which is often, the iPod gets silenced.

Second, should one specify a particular song in a script if one wants its use as incidental music? Personally, I never do this, my reason being that it might put off the reader if they're not familiar with the song. And anyway, the director or producer will probably overrule my choice. But I know of many a successful and professional writer that does do this in scripts, so don't pay any attention to me.

OK, to the 7. Generally I like warm electronic sounds, jangling guitars, big beats, and combinations thereof. Seven songs in heavy rotation on the iPod of late are as follows:

'The Greatest Story Never Told' / Murray Gold and the BBC Wales Orchestra. This is Doctor Who incidental music, a cue from Steven Moffat's Library-based episodes. I was incessantly listening to the album, and this track particularly, when writing the recent Doctor Who spec script, to get me into the spirit of the thing.

'More than a Dream' / Pet Shop Boys. My favourite track on their latest album. And I'm very excited to be seeing them at the O2 Arena in June (I don't get out enough!). Anyone else going?

'Toe Jam'/ The BPA (feat. Dizzee Rascal & David Byrne). If you haven't heard of it, the Brighton Port Authority is the latest project from Norman 'Fatboy Slim' Cook. This comes with sleeve note pretence that these are recently recovered recordings of an old, forgotten band. But forget the fakery, it's essentially another Fatboy album, but more song-based and with a few celebrity vocal talents thrown into the mix. And it's better than anything he's put out since around about 'Praise You'. This song is bliss encapsulated.

'Neon Tiger' / The Killers. I love The Killers, they can do no wrong.

'Not Fair' / Lily Allen. The music and production on Ms. Allen's latest album 'It's Not Me, It's You', courtesy of the Bird and the Bee fellah, is impeccible. But she sets her stall as a lyricist, and judged as a lyricist she is infuriatingly variable. On songs, like 'Not Fair' where she's speaking for herself (or more probably a characterisation close to herself) it works. But when she strays from that and starts speaking about society, it all just makes my toes curl. Worst offender on the album is the song that includes the refrain "Society says that her life is already over" about a character who's 29. 29! FF, and if I might be so bold, S! Society doesn't say women's lives are over by 29, Lily: idiots in society say this, Don't be one of them.

'Mario's Cafe' / Saint Etienne. From their second album 'So Tough' and also on the 2-disc 'best of' currently living on my Shuffle. I parted company with them after 'So Tough', so mostly the compilation is new stuff to me , and very good too. But a few tracks, including this one, are a pure hit of Nineties nostalgia from back when I had a major crush on Sarah Cracknell. Actually, I still have a major crush on Sarah Cracknell.

'I Box Up All The Butterflies' / Boy Least Likely To. I don't ever get time to listen to the radio anymore, so I catch up with new music via The Word magazine, like quite a few discerning Dads out there I suppose. There is a CD sampler of new music given away with the mag every month, and this my most listened to track from the latest one.

That's me done. If anyone has any recommendations, I'd welcome them. I'd create a spotify list of the above songs, but I haven't got around to trying spotify yet, and by the time I do, it probably won't be fashionable any more. Ah well.

Academy Deadline

2009-05-05T12:42:00.003+01:00

Hurry, hurry... if you're going to enter, the deadline for the BBC Writers' Academy is fast approaching. Ceri Meyrick was just on twitter confiming that there were 12 hours left; so, that looks like midnight tonight to me.

I finally decided to go for it, and completed and submitted my application yesterday. My research will ramp up from today. It's going to be a busy few weeks coming up.

If you've entered too: best of luck with it, and - obviously - I hope to see you at the interview stage!

Two

2009-05-02T17:55:00.003+01:00

Oh, I missed my blog's second birthday.

It's now two years and a couple of weeks since I started this venture (it seems like longer - that's what you're thinking, isn't it? Isn't it, hmm?!). That also means it's just been the blogaversary of Jason Arnopp and Helen Smith (we are blog triplets, you know) and they didn't really celebrate either. We all must be busy.

I'm not going to review the goals I set myself back then, as I haven't really achieved any of them (but I've had a hell of a lot of fun not doing any of that stuff).

Here, though, if you're interested, is a link to how I marked the occasion last year: 'One Year On'

And here's the very first post I ever made, two years (and a bit) ago: 'The Church of the Latter-day Bloggers…' Ah, memories.

Memories, like the corners of my... um... thing... wispy water-coloured, erm, how's the rest of that song go?

The Continuing Drama

2009-04-29T20:00:00.008+01:00

As the world and her husband will already know - the BBC Writers' Academy 2009 is open for submissions. It's a great opportunity, and the eight places per year are hotly contested; but, it's only open to those who have previously been paid for their work (full details of entry requirements, as well as much other useful info, is available via the BBC Writers' Room blog).

The way it works as I understand it (and these things could well be liable to change, so don't take my word for it) is thus: to enter, one needs to provide evidence of a professional commission, a sample screenplay as an example of one's work, and a completed application form (which includes a few '500 words or less questions' to answer just like any other big corporation's application forms). A long-list of applicants is invited to a second round of workshop-style interviews, then a shortlist is invited back for a more traditional interview, before the final eight are chosen.

No one outside the Academy knows quite which criteria are used to judge. No doubt it's important to perform well on an application form and in an interview. But, like any other big corporation's application process, there may well be people more 'in the frame' than others because of their progress in writing (for any medium) to date. All those submissions have got to be set against one's track record. So: 'write well and get noticed' would seem to be the best advice. Which is useful, as it's the same advice required to get any other screenwriting gig, not just the Academy.

I've been doing my best to write well and get noticed, as ever, but I'm not exactly holding my breath this year. My work is good enough, but I don't feel I've proved myself sufficiently in 'der industry' yet. Having got peer feedback on my TV drama pilot script 'Life Support' recently, I'm now reworking it for possible use as a sample script for the Academy. But I'm still undecided about whether to enter or not, even now with the deadline fast approaching (May 5th is the final date for submissions).

I'm lucky/unlucky enough to have a day job that pays well; all things being okay, there will be a new member of the Perry family arriving just before the Academy starts in September; and, there's a worldwide recession. It may not be the best time to be taking up a trainee position which then leads to work by commission (and that's what it is: a job, a fantastic job, but a job nonetheless and it should be considered as such). Yes, I am suffering the usual permie person's anxiety/wish fulfillment fantasy about going freelance. I probably wouldn't get it, but I don't want to get it and then have to turn it down.

Now, most people are probably wondering why I'm worrying about this stuff now. And they are probably thinking 'Nothing ventured...' and 'It doesn't cost anything to enter'. But this is not true, alas. It costs you time. To be prepared for the Academy, a person needs to be watching all those shows. Now, that's 375 minutes per week as as starter, and it's not passive viewing, it's study: working out the format, the structure, the character arcs, what's happening, what's not happening, and why. Getting hold of scripts and series bibles would also be useful, if you can.

On top of that, there's anything else you might be wanting to watch on TV that helps put the Continuing Drama shows into context (it's probably good to have a wide and current experience of other BBC drama productions, and continuing dramas on other channels minimum). Then, there's reading the trades to keep up with industry goings-on, and doing your own writing to hone your talents and get towards that magic 10,000 hours. Then there's the day job, if you have one, and the family commitments you might have. And – you know – eating and sleep, and all those other things that fill up the day. It is a killing schedule. I know – I've done it twice now in 2007 and 2008, and neither time did I feel I'd done it justice.

So, it's not exactly free to enter. But all that research will undoubtedly make you a better writer, so it's never wasted. But maybe there are better ways to use this knowledge, rather than going for the Academy. The training is of a very high standard, and you're paid to do it. But there are many other routes that other people have taken to get their work on TV. Of course, they're still open to you if you apply and don't get in. And there's no guarantee the academy will run indefinitely. This could be the last one, for all I know. As you can tell, I've gone back and forth about this one. I remain undecided for now.

For different takes on this subject, check out some of the screenwriters on my blog roll, who have gone through the selection process to different stages, and have written about it: Paul Campbell, Danny Stack, Michelle Lipton, Piers Beckley to name but four.

And - good luck!

The Eighty:Twenty Rule

2009-04-21T13:30:00.000+01:00

I was reminded of this rule when talking down the pub with some writers the other day, and I thought it would make a nice blog post. It's popular in many disciplines; I first heard it at the day job, but it is just as applicable to screenwriting. It is this: in any endeavour - if we assume that infinite time or infinite resources are not at your disposal - 20 percent of the stuff you want to do will never get done. Simple as that.

That 20 percent might not be possible at all, or it will be prohibitively difficult, or too costly in either time or cash to achieve; or, most likely, it might become clear as you proceed that it was never worth doing in the first place. Wisdom is the ability to identify which 20 it is before you start, and then deliver the remaining 80 without getting distracted by what might have been.

I have not yet achieved wisdom, obviously, but I keep trying. I'd never thought about the rule with regard to writing, but then I read Andrew Harrison's interview with publicist Mark Borkowski in this month's issue of Word magazine, and Mark expressed the rule in a slightly different way. (He also sets the cleaving point at 75:25, so I'm obviously more optimistic than him; but, he is in publicity...)

If I might have a little fair use quotation for truth, Mark says this: “You can never make a hundred percent of people interested in an idea. The most you can aim for is 75 per cent, and you have to keep telling your client not to bother about that other 25 per cent, because actually they don't matter. Just don't let anyone leak from the 75 into the 25. But your client will always start obsessing about the 25 per cent. Hubris takes over. 'We have to have them!' You waste your energy on people who will never love you. Not unlike life in general."

This really struck a chord with me when I read it, as I'm currently in the process of getting script notes back on a project. Whenever I do this, as I often do, I hold in my mind the 20% of people out there will never like my script, no matter how much I change it to try to please them. Obviously, if this is a commissioned piece of work and the producer is in the 20% then you've got problems; you're both making a different film. This has happened to me, and it ain't pretty.

With spec work that you're getting peer reviewed during development, you don't really know what unconscious prejudices a particular reader is going to have. So, the wisdom is the ability to identify if they're 80 or 20 based on their notes, right? Nah. I don't believe it can be done. No one's that wise. And the possibility for self delusion ('they just don't get it!') is always a risk. Maybe you could tell if you can see the whites of their eyes, but sometimes not even then. Half the time they don't even know that they will never like your script, so you're going to have trouble telling.

So, what's the solution? First, make the script as good as you can make it for yourself. There's nothing worse than getting notes, negative or positive, on a script you're realised - between sending it out and getting the feedback - that you don't even like. Don't be in your own 20 percent.

After that, get as many and as broad a range of sets of feedback as possible and cross-reference them. This means you can see the trends forming and work out where the 80:20 line is falling. For this reason, I would avoid having only other screenwriters appraise your work - a trap I've fallen into often. Every screenwriter has their own voice, and we prefer it! So, any script not written by us is automatically going to be at a disadvantage. Okay, I'm being a bit flippant here, and anyone - myself included - that has to give script notes will try their hardest to be objective and not try to rewrite your script in their own image. But writers like to write, so they may end up appraising a script that isn't what you want to make, but... something different.

Professional script readers should have more detachment, but they cost money and so must be used sparingly (unless you're rich, and if you're a screenwriter there's a lot less than 20 percent chance of that). Beyond that, it would be useful to find a genuine punter for the type of work you're writing. This is tricky unless you're going to drag someone off the street; friends and family can often pull punches so as not to offend. Luckily, I have friends and family not frightened of offending me, so I have a few trusted readers outside of the screenwriting world and all its arcane ways.

But most of all, your rewrites will take lots of work to get to the best possible script. And that's another version of the 80:20 rule: 20% percent of the work will take 80% of the effort. I think this one applies to screenwriting too. First drafts - getting 120 pages of white and black down that makes some sort of sense - they're the 20; the 80 is all that wonderful rewriting after that. And on that note, I better get back to working on my screenplay. Ta ta.

Happy Easter!

2009-04-10T09:53:00.002+01:00

If I get a moment, I'll post again before Tuesday, and I'll be tweeting occasionally too. But if I don't see you before then, have a good Good Friday, and best wishes for the rest of the Bank Holiday weekend from Perry Towers.

To the freelancers: try and have a little time off, even if it's only a few minutes. To the permies and day jobbers: I hope you can find some spare time to get a bit of writing done on any of your days off, but don't beat yourselves up if you can't because of family, kids, eggs or films on TV. You'll still reach the magic 10,000 hours, I know it.

I'm Sorry. I'm So Sorry...

2009-03-31T07:27:00.007+01:00

Actually, I'm not sorry at all to report that, as comes the end of March, so comes the end of the 'For Fun' spec challenge. I have completed an absolutely useless, totally unsaleable, but enormously enjoyable (in the making if not the reading) spec script for Doctor Who. And I rather like it.

I wrote it for David Tennant, with no companion, and 45 minutes long. I didn't go mad with Daleks and Cybermen, I didn't do a reboot, I didn't kill off the Brigadier. I just wrote an episode that I thought could nestle into mid-season next to one of Stephen Greenhorn's ones, with no returning characters or fanboy-ness. Well, alright there are a couple of fannish references if you look hard enough, but this again is not something out of whack with the current house style.

I have, as is the rules, exchanged the screenplay with the other members of the Script Challenge group. The mighty Stevyn Colgan has also written a Doctor Who script which I'm looking forward enormously to reading. Another writer has had a crack at a Primeval, and so I'm going to have to watch at least one episode of Primeval before I read that one, so I know who all the characters are! Well, it had to happen sooner or later. We'll all give feedback on each others work, as is the form, and then on to the next challenge. And after that, somehow, the script will end up being passed to Steven Moffat's inbox. He will read it, realise I'm a genius, get me to write four episodes for Series Six, I will be showered with riches and all the gold I can eat, people will dance in the street as I walk by, and...

...sorry, lost myself there. No, none of that will happen, alas. But I might publish the script online, if the feedback comes back reasonable. I can't usually do that as scripts are either intended to be sold, or under confidentiality agreements, but for this one: it doesn't matter.

INT. STUART'S MESSY OFFICE - DAY.

2009-03-30T13:30:00.002+01:00

The room is semi-decorated, like a half kept promise. STUART - 30s, devilishly handsome, slightly deluded - sits at his desk and taps away at a keyboard: the monitor screen shows Final Draft filling up with script.

STUART

Hmm. Scene headings are ugly.

He types some more, growing increasingly, but gorgeously, irritated.

STUART

Do I really really need 'em?

FADE OUT

Good question, fake courier-12-point me. Like most of the regular readers of this blog, I write a good deal of script. Now, I'm still an emerging writer (love that phrase - I can't control whether that conjures images in your head of emerging from a cocoon, or emerging from some bushes, and I like that danger). And as an emerging writer (it's bushes for you, isn't it?!) most of what I write is designed to be read first, made (hopefully) later. For a script intended primarily to be read as a story rather than as a blueprint, by people wondering 'should this be made' rather than necessarily 'how the hell do we make this', a lot of the conventions of the screenplay format are at best meaningless, and are at worst in the way.

The 12-point courier thing, as a rule of thumb, makes a screenplay work out to be about a page per minute of action. But, as anyone who's ever operated an iPhone in a hurry can tell you: thumbs can be inaccurate things. Particularly with shorter scripts, I find it the page per minute thing can be way off. And of course, anyone can film a script as sloooowly as they like (particularly directors). But, even so, I would keep the 12-point courier and the spacing as they are. But scene headings? I would change them like a shot (pun intended).

How would I change them? I'd get rid of EXT and INT, and probably DAY and NIGHT too. Is this craziness? Possibly. I'm bound to be on to a loser trying to change things: the film screenplay format has been pretty much the same for fifty years or more. William Goldman writes scripts dispensing with the uglier slug line conventions. But he's William Goldman; and even he couldn't persuade anyone else to follow his lead.

So, we are stuck with INT and EXT, but what do they give us? They are ultimately a tool for line producers to budget scripts within a studio system. For anyone outside such a system, and even for a lot of Hollywood films, they are wildly out of date: an interior shot of a house is very likely to be shot on location, where an exterior scene might be filmed against a green screen in a studio. And for a story to be read, INT and EXT convey nothing that can't be covered in the location or scene description. If you're in a living room, you're inside. If you're in a field, you're outside. If there's any doubt, rewrite it until there's no doubt; that's got to make for a better script and a better writer.

What about DAY and NIGHT? Well, they're mainly queues for lighting, but outside of a shooting script they can be useful to show the passage of time. Again though, this can be used as a crutch. When I was a less experienced writer (a few weeks back!) I lengthened and lengthened my scene headings with extraneous detail: not only was it DAY in this scene, it was LATER, no sorry: MOMENTS LATER. THE SAME DAY. CONTINUOUS. I went hog wild, making sure people would get it. I wasn't necessarily wrong either, as plenty of pro film scripts use all of these. Someone somewhere must like them, but more and more I think they're unneeded, except for the first scene or if a major change has occurred. If the script has been written right, it should be obvious how much time has passed from the scene description and character behaviour.

If it isn't clear whether a scene's in or outdoors, or at night or in the day, you're better off not trying to address this in the scene heading, as I'd wager that most of the people reading your script will skip the scene headings anyway. We all do it, don't we? I certainly do, even with my own scripts. Because scene headings aren't very interesting. So, why not drop all these annoying things, and concentrate on what everyone's interested in: the story? As follows:

STUART'S OFFICE - DAY:

Stuart sits and types.

STUART'S HALLWAY:

Stuart's son walks to the office door.

STUART'S SON

Get off Twitter and do some work, Daddy.

Why not? Well, it's usual reason: The Fear. The fear that an overworked script reader will think "No EXTs and DAYs - amateur - reject!" and put your script in the green crayon pile. Now, this fear is probably unfounded; or, if not, then you could use the argument that, if they're noticing stuff like that, then your script's lost them anyway. But if there's even the slightest chance that it could make a difference, why rock the boat? So, I'll be leaving all the EXTs and INTs and DAYs and NIGHTs in my scripts, and crossing my fingers. But, every so often, I'm dropping out a DAY or an INT here and there, to see if anyone notices, trying to bring down the system from within.

What about you? Do you hate these things too? Or am I over-reacting? Are they useful in some way I haven't considered? Or have you dropped them from your scripts altogether? Has anyone noticed? I'd love to know.

The Unimportance of Being Memed

2009-03-28T22:00:00.000Z

I have been tagged by Lord Piers of Beckleyshire with a meme; these are the rules:
1) Put the link of the person who tagged you on your blog (see above).
2) Write the rules (see, well, here).
3) Mention 6 things or habits of no real importance about you (see below).
4) Tag 6 persons adding their links directly (see even further below).
5) Alert the persons that you tagged them (see the same bit even further below that I referred to above).
6) There is NO rule Six (see Monthy Python's Bruces sketch).

Six unimportant things about my life (if, like me, you believe in a holistic universe where nothing can be said to be unimportant, you'll have to check that philosophy at the door, as I have):

1) Everybody thinks I live in Brighton, but I live a number of miles to the west of it, along the Sussex coast. When I'm at the day job in old London town, I spend 4 hours a day commuting. Ouch.

2) I have only ever been in a fan club twice: once for Doctor Who, once for the Pet Shop Boys. I still stand by those choices. (In fact, the Doctor Who one is called an Appreciation Society, not a fan club: oh, the pretentiousness!)

3) I am allergic to Chinese tea. It's never been properly diagnosed, but after a number of occasions in restaurants when my face has gone red and puffy, I've avoided the stuff.

4) I wear my watch on the wrong hand. It's traditional to wear a watch on one's non-writing hand (so as not to weigh your writing hand down, I suppose). But when I first tried a watch on, I didn't know this, and put it on my right hand. If I try and wear a watch on my left now, it just feels wrong.

5) I came very close to dying on December 31st 1985. I've had asthma since I was seven (had my first attack after being hit in the chest with a loft pole playing light sabres with a friend of the family). A few years after that, I stopped breathing during a bad attack on that New Year's Eve, was rushed off in an ambulance, and spent a week in hospital. At the time it didn't faze me, but looking back? Shit! I would never have got to see Trial of a Time Lord (that's just a little reference for all the old members of the Doctor Who Appreciation Society; hi, guys).

6) I never pass on memes. Nor chain letters. Nor humorous emails. No agenda - it's just laziness on my part, really.

Hmm. There's something Book of Revelation / Omen Trilogy about all these sixes: I'm going to stop now. Ta ta.

How Many Shopping Days Until Christmas?

2009-03-16T13:15:00.001Z

(Well, every day is a shopping day nowadays, so it's 283 by my count.)

I've posted about it before, but thought I'd do a proper update on the Christmas TV project that I'm currently working on. It's been bubbling under other projects that either I or the director have been working for over a year - check any old posts tagged 'Santa Baby' - but now all systems are go, and it's shaping up to be very exciting.

The piece started work as a writing exercise with a writers' group I used to run long ago: a ten minute comedy short film set at Christmas. It came very close to being selected for development money from Screen South, but then they plumped for my other script (which became my first short film 'Lent'). Then, I pitched it on the weekly Wednesday Shooting People bulletin, where it caught the eye of Colin Stevens. Colin has made a number of short films (some samples of which are on the net - check 'em out) and we started out with a regard to making it as a short.

As we were developing it, and I was doing a few rewrites, Colin and I both came to the conclusion that the premise had potential in it to fill a half-hour TV broadcast slot. Colin has a few key production contacts who were interested in the premise. And the story fits into the family feel-good Christmas tale tradition, so it certainly would feel at home in that medium. So, we put our thinking caps on about to how to change and restructure the tale to fit thirty minutes, without stretching the material too thin, and without putting a dent in the central magic of the idea.

This effort culminated in a meeting last week, where we agreed the final changes and amendments over lunch in Canary Wharf. It was a very good meeting, with both us pretty much in accord about the shape of the thing, and both very enthusiastic about getting started. I'm now ironing out the storyline and turning it into a detailed synopsis document. Soon, we'll be going out selling this to other people, pretty hopeful that we can find some collaborators who are as enthusiastic as ourselves.

All being well, Colin will be launching a web presence for the project soon; I'll report on this when it happens. I'll also be blogging and tweeting about any developments as they happen. Watch this space, and wish us luck!

Wire news and Perry news

2009-03-09T13:26:00.004Z

I hope I'm not recycling old info, but I haven't seen anyone mention this: The Wire is coming to BBC2, linky. So, if you haven't seen it yet, and you're still interested (and haven't been put off by the huge wave of hype) then you can see it for free. Great news, which comes just at the moment I pressed ' Submit' on an online order for the final (series 5) box set. I regret nothing.

I recommend the series, highly, as ever. Ignore everything about it being complex, and all in hard-to-understand lingo. It's not a forbidding artwork, it's a very entertaining TV show with lots of great characters, and great plotting, which has gone to great effort to achieve realism. And succeeded as far as I'm aware, although I've never been a cop or a drug dealer in Baltimore obviously.

Additional: as a personal rule, I don't like to use the blog for personal info, except where it concerns or affects my screenwriting, but this is a special case. My wife is expecting a baby, due at the end of August. We're very happy, and everything's looking good so far: mum is healthy and beginning to show.

This is the 'production' that is preventing my going to the Screenwriters' Festival later this year. It's a bit too soon when the little 'un will be less than two months old to be going off for a four-day festival, however useful it will undoubtedly be. Have a great time if you're going, but - you know - I wouldn't change it for the world. I'm a happy pappy.

Twittering

2009-03-01T18:05:00.003Z

As you will see from the sidebar to your right, I have bowed to the inevitable and joined twitter.com; if you haven't joined yet, why don't you follow me over there. And if you are already a member, why don't you follow me over there. That's a double meaning on the word 'follow' which means something different over on Twitter, you see. Do you see? Do you?

Also, with the help of Miss Read, I have plumbed things in so that Twitter is updated whenever I post here. So, this is a bit of a test...

For Fun

2009-02-28T18:00:00.000Z

Two pieces of writing will be taking up most of my next few weeks; one of them is proper serious work (the comedy), and one is just for fun (the drama).

The comedy is a TV project I've been working on with Colin Stevens for a while now, and he and I will be launching a web presence for it very soon: I shall keep you posted on this here blog. The drama? Well, it's very rare to have some screenwriting to do that's 100% for the enjoyment of doing it, with no hope to sell or make the piece afterward. And it's quite refreshing. Here's how it came about:

As many readers of this blog, and others in the scribosphere, will know, I regularly meet up with a group of writers in London for drinking, gossiping and the setting of script challenges. These are usually standard things: write a radio play, write a script report, finish something you've started, and all have the same timeline: one calendar month elapsed to complete, doesn't have to be good, but it does have to be finished, else you face a round of mockery from your your peers at the next drinking session. I've gone in for many of these in the past, but I don't normally post about a challenge as I'm superstitious, and worry that if I shine a little light on it, I'm bound to fail to deliver.

The latest challenge, to be completed in the month of March (and not a single word of which is to be consigned to hard copy before midnight tonight), is to write a spec episode of a current UK TV series. Unlike the US, in Britain this is a bit of a silly idea, as - according to every 'how to' writing guide you'll ever read - no one wants to see a spec episode of anything, and they'd rather see something all-original (although one occasionally hears of an exception to this).

Boring old best behaviour would be for me to do a spec episode of Doctors, as it's the nearest you can get to entry level TV, and I'm currently watching the episodes and studying the format, and I want to get to pitch ideas for the show; but, sod that: I'll do that in April (I don't want to rush it with an arbitrary imposed timeline). I'm going to write a Doctor Who.

This is the closest I'm going to get to a commission to write for the good Doctor any time soon. And it multiplies the silliness: it can't really be shown to anyone as an example of my work, it's for a show that one gets into by invite only and where a showrunner would give you a plotline rather than have you pitch one, and best of all... it doesn't have a publicly available house style at the moment. All the episodes of David Tennant's tenure have been written and are currently being shot, and no one bar Steven Moffat and Piers Wenger knows what the Matt Smith era is going to be like, or even who the companion's going to be played by. There is no other reason to write it than the fun of it...well, maybe there's the humble pie reason too.

An infamous Doctor Who novel author and online critic, who I'm not going to name, keeps a blog where his opinion of other people's TV Doctor Who scripts is never less than forthcoming, and is usually quite critical. When challenged, this person wrote and posted up an example of how they would write a script for Who; I read that script, and disliked it very much. I was quite free with my negative opinion of it at that last writers' meet. Now, it has occurred to me that this is no way to behave about a fellow writer, even one I disagree with. So, the challenge is to do what he did, and create my own script: it will be for a David Tennant-like Doctor, with no regular companion, in a style which would roughly fit within the Russell T Davies years.

I have so many ideas for this - the first Doctor Who script I will have written since the one I co-wrote with a boy called Graham when I was twelve years old which had a Cyber-Dalek hybrid in it - whirling around my head: roll on midnight.

Sixty Minutes

2009-02-17T20:05:00.003Z

After multiple distractions working on other things, I finally completed the retooled version of the 'Life Support' pilot last week. All the fantasy sequences are gone, as are most of the flashbacks and voice over. I have set myself strict rules about how the 'story within a story' aspect works, and it no longer seems overdone. The first ten pages are tighter and get to the point quicker. All in all, I hope I've learned a bit from crashing-and-burning out of Red Planet at the first round. Whether it's a saleable commodity or not, only time will tell - it's very bleak and not very high concept, not the best combo in times of recession, so says Conventional Wisdom (but I prefer his brother Norman).

Talking of RP, I assume the word will be out soon as to who's got the glittering prize; good luck to those still in with a chance! I'm glad I did it - definitely a worthwhile exercise, and now I have a hard-earned pilot script for an hour-long drama series. Everybody wins. Interestingly – alright, semi-interestingly – a 60-minute script is harder than anything else I've tried to write, much harder than 10, 30, 45, 90 or 120. I don't see why this would necessarily be, but I've heard it from other writers too (so it must be true!). Now I know why Holby City has a musical montage at the beginning and the end of every episode!

Since completion of the script, I have done another half draft tidying things up, and the script is at exactly 60 pages, which is probably a little too long for a broadcast slot, so I'll review with a mind to cut two or three minutes of dead wood. Then, it will be ready for a good duffing up's worth of peer feedback before I rewrite it again. Hooray! Onwards and upwards...

Going Postal

2009-02-09T21:02:00.004Z

We all know about character development over the course of a drama, it's something we all strive to do, and to do well. But there's another kind of character development, a rarer, non-deliberate kind, where a character endures in a popular medium through many years, multiple writers or production teams, and through multiple trend changes in that medium and in the wider culture. Big Russell, who I seem to be referencing a lot these days, acknowledges this in The Writer's Tale. It's not so much Doctor Who I'm talking about, though there's an echo of it that series: the changes in The Doctor's look and personality are a deliberate function of an individual script, and they are used to prolong the series beyond the presence of one actor. This is more the other way round, when an actor or character stays in place, and the series changes around them, The whims of unfeeling Father Time, and even more unfeeling New Broom Producer inadvertently cause the character to change, sometimes subtly, sometimes not so much.

For example: Dot Cotton used to be a hell of a causal racist. She's not anymore. We all know why this is, and we know it isn't a deliberate change of character on behalf of any one writer, but it's nice to take it at face value and imagine that maybe life has mellowed Dot in that one particular way. Extremely long-running soap characters like Ken Barlow and Ian Beale are rare, but fascinatingly rich: we've seen them young, and we've seen them grow older, and we may even see their (fictional) death one day. The totality of the character's fiction is bigger than any single imagination, and – like life – it can't really be appreciated as a whole, it can only really be glimpsed in little half-hour shaped pieces.

Some types of shows can throw up quirks when their characters are measured against real life. For example, Ken and Ian at least age. Doctor Who fans have to face up to the inevitability that a Doctor's going to come along that's younger than they are. It'll happen to me (and loads of other people - he's so young!) when Matt Smith takes over at the end of this year (David Tennant is about four months older than me, so I've avoided this until now). The writing is clearly on the wall: the show is bigger than any one of its fans (or writers, or producers, or stars). The fictions will go on, when we're all dust. We didn't know how lucky we were when Who was off air, not to have this ever-present ticking clock to measure out our mortality.

Then, you have to feel for the poor people who work on animations, where nothing and no one ages: I remember hearing one of The Simpsons' show-runners (maybe Al Jean) bemoaning the day that he overtook Homer in the age stakes. Homer may be old, bald and fat, but he'll never get older, balder or fatter (except in the episode King Size Homer, before anyone mentions it: I am aware of King Size Homer). We aren't quite so lucky.

All this is as it should be - if a little maudlin for me, but I seem to be in a bit of a 'Oh Shit, I'm getting old' mood at the moment (must be the weather). But what about when this supra-character development makes a well-loved character less interesting and less rich. What if this process causes character un-development? What the hell – if I might be so bold – happened to Postman Pat?

If you're reading this, you probably haven't seen Postman Pat recently. Even if you have because – like me – you have a young child in the house, you might only have seen the most up-to-date version. But, through the beneficence of his older relatives, and charity shops, my boy has accumulated a collection of these things called videos (remember them?!) from every era of Postman Pat. The show has been going so long, it's like a history of children's television over the last twenty-five years. And therein lies the tragedy.

The earliest episodes are quite slow, have very basic hand-made animation, and no lip-sync. Just one male voice doing narration, and putting on all character voices. They remind one of the Sixties and Seventies stop-motion shows like Camberwick Green and The Flumps, and were clearly a continuation of that tradition. This is the incarnation that my son likes the best.

A few years later, the colours seem a bit brighter, the animation a but slicker, but it still has the same wonky charm. Pat has got married (from the episodes I've seen from the early days, it's not clear what his marital status is, but it looks very much like he's a single man who spends a bit too much time with his black-and-white cat). And on the production side, the first major innovation: a woman has become the co-narrator, voicing all the female characters. Still no lip sync, though.

As the years roll on, the show enters the caring sharing late nineties/early twenty-first century and the changes get more pronounced: lip sync arrives, with different actors/voices for each character. Pat's postal patch, Greendale, which once was a small white rural community of stereotypes (vicar, posh lady, spiv, farmer, old washer woman), is now a much more cosmopolitan town peopled by multi-ethnic and disabled stereotypes. This, depending on your outlook, is either an admirable stab at diversity or Burger King kid's meal gang tokenism, but ultimately the widening of the supporting ensemble allows a broader range of stories, so it seems to be a worthwhile thing . Also, Pat has acquired a son, and the children in the cast are pushed much more to the foreground of the stories. Fair enough, again, it is children's show after all.

The final regeneration brings us to the present day: the show has got a new name - Postman Pat: Special Delivery Service - and a new theme tune (although they still use a section of the original theme at the beginning, you couldn't mess too much with that). And now Pat has kit. With a small 'k', I mean: he doesn't have a talking car. Although that's pretty much all he doesn't have: the SDS allots Pat a van, a motorbike with a sidecar, and a helicopter. He even has a mobile phone and SatNav. If this was a podcast rather than a blog, this is the bit where I would half cough, and half say the word 'merchandising' under my breath. But again, don't think I'm being Grumpy Old Man here. Merchandising is great, kid's TV is no longer the cottage industry it used to be in my day, and my boy has lots of Pat toys which he loves. I wouldn't want it any other way. Plus, it's still a good and well-made show.

But what of the star of the show in all this? What of Pat? Reader, I'm afraid to say, he's become a buffoon. And that's the bit that I don't like. Somehow, all of the changes detailed above have had the effect, without anyone necessarily wanting it to be so, of diminishing the main character's intelligence to a very low level. At the start, Pat is a good postman, who no matter what obstacles are in his way, will always get the letters delivered. He even rises to the occasion with a healthy dose of heroism and derring-do when necessary. By the end, though, he is reduced to delivering one package at a time, which he has an alarming inability to do without losing or breaking what's inside. However, he usually improvises some compromise solution at the eleventh hour, which heavily relies on the good will of the people of Greendale, and he keeps his job by the skin of his teeth.

A favourite example is the episode where there is a film festival, and Pat has to deliver the film can of the single movie they are showing. Pat is racing to get the print to the cinema before the screening, when he drops it in a muddy field and ruins it. The package that Pat has been given responsibility for delivering has not only been opened but its contents have been completely destroyed. And for this, they give the man control of a helicopter? Luckily, Pat's son has been making a home movie during this chaos, and this is what is shown at the festival instead. (This is not like any film festival I have ever been to: I couldn't help worrying for the members of the audience sitting at the back thinking 'I paid £350 for a delegate pass for this!')

I'd love to think that there is subtext at play here: that this is a comment upon the effect of increased technology to erode common sense, or a political statement about the deterioration of the Royal Mail's service over the last twenty-five years. But it isn't. They've just turned Postman Pat into a blithering idiot, and it shouldn't be allowed. Tell someone!

And when it fails to recoup, well maybe...

2009-02-04T20:22:00.004Z

Reading too many biographies can be bad for one's self-esteem. I've now finished reading about John Lennon. I know his story so well, I think I can summarise it in much less than 800 words. Here goes: born in Liverpool, Dad left, Mum died, lived with Aunt Mimi, School, Skiffle, The Quarrymen, Art School, Rock n' Roll, The Beatles, Hamburg, The Cavern, Parlophone, secret wife, George Martin, Beatlemania, Bigger Than Jesus, No more touring, drugs, great albums, Yoko Ono, Bed Peace, split, primal scream therapy, Imagine, New York, Visa problems, more albums, lost weekend, house-husband phase, Double Fantasy, shot by a nutter.

What's scary is that, aside from the house-husband phase onwards, Lennon had done all of that stuff by the time he was my age. And he only had three and a half years left, poor thing! Now, I'm not John Lennon (though I am working on the hair and the beard), and I'm really not going to start moaning on about quitting again, I promise. I have reconciled myself with the fact that I'll never write for Skins. But the feeling that you've missed the boat is is a natural emotion, and will occur at some time to anyone trying to catch a break in any business as youth-obsessed and hard to get into as the business of show.

Screenwriters as a breed – unlike, say, actors - should worry least about these kind of things; a writer can, after all, keep going until he or she's too frail to hold a pen anymore. And even past that, there's always dictation ( if it worked for Barbara Cartland...). But writers wouldn't be writers if they didn't want to leave their mark on the world. Why else write things down? Success isn't measured in fame or money, but audience. Every writer's got some sort of audience, but every writer would like more of one: every day that that goes by searching for that audience, is a day less getting the word out there, making a mark.

Does any of this matter, though?. If one enjoys the process, indeed if one is compelled to continue with writing no matter what (as is the case with pretty much every writer I ever meet), then would a wider audience make that much difference? Is Emily Dickinson's poetry any less good because hardly anyone saw it during her lifetime? Do good writers sometimes toil away and never find that audience? Is there such a thing as undiscovered talent?

I've always believed that undiscovered talent is a myth, and that true aptitude will very rarely get completely missed by the world, if accompanied by the requisite - and much more important - effort to develop it. I don't know much about Dickinson's life, but from what I do know I believe that it was her own choice not to attempt to publish the huge amount of work she was producing. As proposed in the book I've moved onto, Malcolm Gladwell's erudite and wonderful Outliers, talent is largely mythical anyway. Talent is just a word we have for enthusiasm combined with many hours of hard work combined with the right conjunction of circumstances.

Hmm.. What started off as a moan about getting older but still not having anything on the telly has ended with me dismissing the idea of talent altogether. Can anyone be a writer? Maybe. Anyone - crucially - that wants to, and is willing to put in the hours, has a good shot. As Piers noted last year, the magic number in the research that Outliers references is 10,000 hours. If you haven't done that much, then, in the words of the almighty Moz: you just haven't earned it yet, baby! In the book, Gladwell shoots through the mysticism of 'child prodigies' and 'overnight successes' with some persuasive examples that show that, through luck or through perseverance or both, anyone who's made it big has gained those hours, and anyone pretty impressive is on their way to that total. Lennon and the rest of The Beatles put the hours in playing in the dodgy bars of Hamburg for eight hours a night.

What's the moral of this story? It's all about choices. There's at least 16 waking hours per day: some of them will be used for other important things like day jobs, and family, and chores, and travel. Protect whatever writing time you have left, but accept that however few hours you can put in per week you're doing yourself good. You will envy your peers who have lots more free time than you, and seem to be on the fast track, but that's all just choices. If it's going to take longer to get to 10,000 hours, accept the slow path and enjoy the scenery as you go.

It would be nice though, to be able to read a biography of someone who took their time, and made their mark later in life: any suggestions gratefully received, at the usual address!

Bah! Ill and then Snow

2009-02-03T10:03:00.002Z

A stop-gap post. Last week, the entire Perry clan was knocked out by the Noro (or Winter Vomiting) virus. That was fun. Then yesterday, I was snowed in. Still working from home as best I can, as the trains up to That London are still recovering.

All this means I have piles and piles of day job work building up, and not enough time (as ever). I had drafted a new blog post, but it was a bit too 'grumpy old man', so I'm rewriting it.

Hope you're all well, and got some writing done/built some nice snowmen yesterday. I might put up the picture of the fine effort that we put together yesterday (he's starting to melt now, and looks a bit too horrific for the young lad to see - a bit like the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark).

T is for Television

2009-01-24T11:09:00.007Z

A lot of bloggers, and even some people in the real world, commented on The Writer's Tale a few months back; but I haven't seen anything yet about T is for Television by Mark Aldridge and Andy Murray, a brief biography and reasonably detailed career overview (so far) of Doctor Who Confidential's own Russell T Davies.

I've just finished it, and it serves as a perfect companion piece to Russell and Ben Cook's weighty compilation of E-Mail trails from last year. Somewhat perversely - but perhaps it was only to be expected - that semi-autobiography is much more searching and critical than this biography; which is not to say it pulls its punches, singling out some Doctor Who episodes, the first season of Torchwood, and a few other works, as not being up to the RTD standard. But also it's a loving tribute to the big, Welsh giant that's revolutionised Saturday night drama, etc. etc.

Russell - in one of many original interviews done for the book - comes over as passionate and contradictory as always. In one breath he is saying he hasn't ever joined the Writers' Guild because he doesn't think of writing as a job; the next, he's bemoaning the artistic temperament of some writer prima-donnas he's known who've forgotten that "it's a job" and should be done professionally. He also might frustrate the aspiring with his contention that it's easier to get into TV writing now than when he started, but he makes a persuasive case.

Obviously, any attempt to cover over forty years of life and over 20 years of career in 240 pages is going to seem a bit sketchy here and there (but that may be because I'm also concurrently reading Philip Norman's monster John Lennon biog which covers Lennon's life - shorter than RTD's, I think - over 800 pages that don't even talk about the music that much); but, there is some light shone into dusty corners of Russell's CV, like his work on Revelations and Springhill, that have not had much in the way of coverage until now.

It's also full of tidbits of advice from the mighty Rusty, as ever: don't just keep an ear out on the bus for living dialogue, check out the TV schedules too, and learn how to identify the really bad dialogue ("I feel hurt, betrayed, alone"); don't dismiss reality TV, or any genre, as somewhere where you can learn more about life, and therefore become a better writer; and, if you've sent off ten dozen scripts and not got anywhere, maybe it's worth quitting and doing something else. And many others.

Anyway, if you come by a copy, I can heartily recommend it; and I'm not even affiliated with its writers, or publisher - I should be getting a commission at least. Oh well.

SWF 09 Launch

2009-01-15T11:22:00.008Z

Lots and lots of lovely people made it to the launch party for the 2009 Screenwriters' Festival at the Channel 4 building on Horseferry Road on Tuesday.

As I stumbled along a dark road near St. James Park tube, squinting at my google-map print-out, who should loom out of the shadows like zombies but Messrs Arnopp, Barron and Clague. It was a mite scary, I can tell you, but also wonderful: it seems no longer possible for me to turn up to any kind of writing do and have to network alone. How good is that?

And as we arrived at the venue, ho - isn't that Mister Beckley, and with him, the Stackster? And Ms Lipton? Oh yes. I hadn't got in there yet, and already I was part of a veritable posse.

Inside, I met up again with Tony Keetch and Elena Fuller, non-bloggers but pitchers extraordinaire. They were both involved in the onstage pitching competition at last year's festival. Indeed most of the ten 2008 pitching finalists made it, including the fellow that later on in the evening won the raffle for a free ticket to SWF '09 (that's two years' running he hasn't had to pay, the lucky thing).

During the pre-talk convivials, I also met David Turner who's pitching this year, and bumped into (and yet again failed, alas, to have a proper conversation with) the wonderful David Lemon and Rachel (next time, I will talk to them, properly and find out Rachel's surname so I don't have to introduce them like a magic act).

Also - as far as I remember, someone correct me if I'm wrong - there was free wine.

After that, were the official talks: Mister Arnopp and David L have both summarised that stuff, so I don't have to strain to remember the details. The message boiled down to this: SWF 09 needs everyone's support to keep going in these difficult economic times, so buy a ticket as soon as you can to help their cash flow, if you want to go ,and if you care about the thing continuing. Fair enough. Sadly, because of a new production I'm involved with - which at the moment is top secret, but I shall post about it when the time comes - it is very unlikely that I'm going to be able to go to Cheltenham this year. There is only one way now open to me that I can see: become swiftly and prominently interesting and important enough to be invited onto a panel. Hey! It could happen...

Anyway, after the talks there were more opportunities for nibbles and a bit of networking and a soupcon of celeb spotting. Most exciting for me was that Michael Wearing was in the house - but I didn't get to talk to him. I'd spotted the tanned, white-haired fellow earlier on and had almost gone up to speak to him. Good thing I didn't, as at that point I thought he was Andrew Davies.

And - I may be mistaken, but I think I'm right on this - there was free wine again.

New Year, New Meme

2009-01-07T21:26:00.003Z

Happy New Year! I didn't expect to stay away from the blog for the full twelve days of Christmas, but it was a fantastic and furious time: lots of fun, lots of relatives visiting, lots of damn-the-recession fine food and wine, and my son (two and a half years old, so just this year getting what the season means) is still not sleeping properly at night because he is still so excited. I'm exhausted.

It's been mostly a holiday: I've nibbled at various pieces of script work over the last two weeks, but not chomped down hard on any one thing yet (this is a nice analogy isn't it?! Erk!). So, there hasn't been much to post about really. I've produced a whole five pages to reach 25 out of 60 on the Life Support pilot. So, I'm buckling down (or buckling under - whichever's good) to do a bit more before the big bad day job starts again on Monday (when, no doubt, my screenwriting effort will go up, but then I'm a contrary bugger, clearly).

Anyway, Piers has memed me with the 'what are you good and bad at' question: I'd say, from all the feedback so far that I'm better (I wouldn't claim to be good at anything necessarily) at characters and dialogue. I need to work harder on pitching my work, and on handling notes better in a rewrite. I won't pass the meme on, as I think everyone I know has already been passed it by someone else I know. Hello all of you people I know, by the way; you're looking well - is that top new?

P.S. A nice bit of luck - I was one of fifteen Shooters picked out of the hat for the Screenwriters' Festival launch party next Tuesday. Anyone else attending?

Merry Christmas Everyone!

2008-12-24T13:37:00.001Z

Just a little blog holiday will now ensue for the festivities at Perry Towers.

I'll see you again in a few days. Have fun!

Winter Bits and Bobs

2008-12-22T22:30:00.000Z

Not much to report from the last week: the day job, which you'd think would be winding down, is just getting busier. The last three working days before Christmas, and I'm working all of them, alas.

I took the decision a few months back to keep going to the wire, and shift all my days off into 2009. So, I'll be able to have a bit of a rest, watch 'The Next Doctor', and – if Santa brings what I'm keeping my fingers crossed for - I'll go to The Wire again, and enjoy the box set of Series 4, and maybe even Series 5 (I have been very good this year!!).

And I'll do some screenwriting work too, of course. I suppose being busy at the day job is a good sign recession-wise, and it's keeping me in pads and printer ink and netbooks and Wire box sets (you see - I'm already expecting to only receive socks and have to buy them for myself in the online Sales). But I'm looking forward to some days where I can get stuck in to some glorious writing.

I've finished a major restructure of the 'Life Support' pilot episode, and am now producing the pages afresh as a top-down rewrite. So far, I'm on page 20 of 60. I'll keep the blog updated with my progress, more to keep myself going over the holiday period than for any other reason.
I have mused and written and mused; and I've decided to follow up the BBC Writers' Room Invite Next with another feature script: I don't want to rush 'Life Support' out there before I've got some extensive feedback. I'll keep the blog updated with progress on that score too.

I recently spoke to another writer who questioned the value of sending material to the Writer's Room slush pile. I can see what he means to a certain extent, but I'm getting good responses from them, so I'm just going to keep sending material as long as they keep asking for it. Another resolution for next year, though, has to be to start sending some of my amassed spec material to agents and producers. Phew! That's enough to be getting on with...

Three figures high and rising...

2008-12-14T11:53:00.000Z

Just spotted that the 'Song Meme (sort of)' post was my one-hundredth blog entry. Hurrah! I have reached treble figures, and it only took just over a year and a half of blog life. That's an average of about five posts a month, more than one a week. I always thought my "he never posts" reputation was unjustified. Still, my new year's resolution will definitely be to post more and get that average up; I did say that last year too, though.

(Slightly amusing story: the other night, when I went to the writers' drinkies, photographed and documented so well by Sir Jason here, I met a fellow writer-and-blogger for the first time. She complimented me on my blog, adding that she thought it was wonderful that I was always writing so often about all the interesting things I was doing. A few eyebrows were raised around the table at this, including my own. But I took my praise - one never knows, after all, when it might come again. Turns out, I had been mistaken for David Bishop. To be fair, I was sat down, so the pointiness of my shoes, or otherwise, was not apparent. Then she placed me, and reassured me that my blog was good also. "...But you hardly ever post," she finally added. Oh well.)

Anyway, had a small confidence boost on Friday, when I got another 'Invite Next' from the BBC Writers' Room after sending them a feature script as an example of my work. I'm going to write and muse, and muse and write, about what to send them next, over my Christmas break.

Song Meme (sort of)

2008-12-11T21:00:00.006Z

Long ago, before my PC went kaput, and before the dawn of time, etc. I was passed the 'song' meme to do something with: specifically, to give an example of a lyric that says something to me about writing. Lots of people had trouble finding something suitable, as I remember. And so did I, 'cos I'm going to cheat! This isn't really the lyric of a song, it's a lyrical picture book for children, called 'Some Dogs Do' by Jez Alborough. I read it to my son on many a night before he goes to bed, and it's lovely and always brings a tear to my eye, because it speaks about something optimistic and beautiful.

It's the story of Sid, a young dog, who when he was on a walk to school one day, "a happy feeling came his way", which fills him up so much that he finds his paws leaving the ground: "without a how, without a why, Sid fell up towards the sky" and flies "in the land of sun and moon, like a doggy-shaped balloon."

Sid comes back down to Earth, and arrives at school, asking his best friend Ben "Did you see me fly just then?" "Don't be daft," came Ben's reply. "You're a dog, and dogs don't fly." "But I did," said Sid. His classmates are just as sceptical, and even his teacher, who says "All dogs walk and jump and run, but dog's don't fly - it can't be done." Still Sid protests "But I did".

Finally, the school bully Gus says "Right, if you can fly, come outside ... let's see you try!" But Sid's happy feeling is gone, and all he can do is flop onto the ground. "You see, you're just a dog," said Gus, "with paws for walking just like us. That will teach you not to lie. Now you know that dog's don't fly."

Sid goes home from school, morose and defeated. And though he did "the things he always did" still "something wasn't right with Sid". His Dad comes out to the garden, as Sid is sat staring at the sky, and asks him what is wrong. But all Sid says is "Dog's don't fly."

Sid's Dad offers to tell him a secret, and when Sid turns to ask what the secret is, he sees his Dad soaring into the air. Sid's happy eyes are open wide. "I knew it... DOGS DO FLY" he cried.

The book ends with Sid's Dad, his Mum, and Sid himself, flying in the sky above their house, accompanied by this couplet:

"Do dogs fly? Is it true?
Some dogs don't, and some dogs do."

No matter who tells you you haven't got what it takes - even, and this is especially important, if it's yourself - always be a dog that does. Till next time...

Televisual Autopsy - Part 2

2008-12-09T22:22:00.000Z

So, I was writing a 6 x 60 minute drama about people in an evening class, all trying to write their first novel. My aim was to produce something without any formal shenanigans or fantasy elements (good for the competition, and good for me). I liked the idea, and I was excited to be exploring it.

I spent most of my time for the next few weeks building up characters, their back-stories, how they interacted with the rest of the group, what their arc was going to be, and so on; but, I didn't write a word of screenplay. Perhaps I spent too long on this stage, given the constraints I was working to (although it's very useful material to have now I'm rewriting). A self-imposed deadline was approaching fast: I had to complete my first ten pages soon, as a number of writers, including myself, were taking part in a peer feedback exchange at the end of August.

Just before I started on the script proper, a thought occurred. The format of the show was that each episode concentrated on a single character - would it work if each episode covered roughly a week of their life, the week that their novel would be the focus of the group's attention, being read out and criticised by everyone else? And how about the theme of each character's novel in some way mirroring their main story? This tickled me. I had turned the idea of peer feedback into the structure of my Red Planet Competition entry. Mild worry: was I falling into the trap of making a post-modern joke of this work, already?

I decided not: if you're dealing with characters that are facing some sort of conflict or crisis (and of course I was), and these people are aspiring writers then whatever they are writing is going to – in some way – be affected by what's going on in their life. It was psychologically true enough for me to be satisfied, and it gave the work a Unique Selling Point – each week, a new character, a new story, a new book: nothing over the top, but the character writing the spy story is living a double life, the fantasy author is off in a world of their own, and so on. I was keen to have a USP, as I had remembered the Channel 4 Series The Book Group from a few years back, and wanted to make sure my pitch wasn't too similar.

Still, I didn't want to overdo the literary angle, or else I'd risk creating the over-structured style of story I was trying to avoid. So, I set a rule – you would hear the 'story within a story' occasionally, but only when a character was genuinely reading out a section. Sometimes it would carry on in voice over through the following scene to give an ironic juxtaposition. But nothing more – no fantasy sequences, no sections of adaptation, and no scenes of people at typewriters or computer keyboards if I could help it (that's always death).

My first ten pages and series outline were put together quite quickly, and sent off to a number of very knowledgeable and helpful people. I then carried on working on the remaining 50 pages, but they were basically in a very sketchy outline form at that point, when I was asking for my first ever feedback. So, this is probably where klaxons are sounding in your head. In a perfect world, I would never have sent out the first ten pages of anything, if I hadn't finished it, as things in those first ten pages were bound to change as I kept working. But it isn't a perfect world. And besides: I wanted some feedback on the premise at least. I wanted to see if people said “Is this too much like The Book Group?” as that was obviously a slight concern (no one did).

I got very good feedback and lots of potential notes from people who are out there making a living writing. As usual, I looked for any points that three or more people picked up on. There was one biggie: three people all said (I paraphrase): “Based on your outline, I thought there would be more of the literary genre stuff: fantasy sequences, that sort of thing – you should go for it”. I became very worried that I was being too tentative in my first draft, avoiding the main thrust of what I should have been doing, because it might upset a reader. But with 20:20 hindsight, I now see how I could easily address this threefold note:

Change the outline.

Get rid of the 'story within a story' from the outline as it's distorting people's expectations. But, I did not change the outline, I went against my initial instincts, and embarked on a rewrite of the script, dialling up the literary style and emphasising the ironic counterpoints between the lives the writers lived in reality, and the lives they lived in their prose. And - to be fair - it could have worked. But it was preventing me from doing what I should have been doing, which was finishing the next 50 pages and rewriting to make it more like the thing I set out to write. By the time I submitted them, the first ten pages had voice over, flashbacks, and fantasy sequences; this, as well as introducing my ensemble and setting up the first focus character's plot. I hadn't a chance in hell, frankly.

I still hadn't finished the remaining 50 pages to my satisfaction when I submitted to the competition. I really shouldn't have sent anything in at all, as I didn't have faith in the material. But it's easy to say that now. After submitting, as I kept on writing, I desperately wanted to fix things in those first 10 pages, but obviously I couldn't.

So, I didn't win a competition with material I wasn't happy with: in some ways, this has to be better than not winning with material I am happy with. Plus, I've learned (or relearned) some lessons. I shall publish them here, so I can look back in a year's time before I enter the Red Planet Comp 2009:

Keep hold of your project's core idea or ideas. Work out in your mind what you're okay to change, and what you'd fight like hell to keep. Don't be inflexible, but don't let the rewriting process tear your idea part either.
Don't get seduced by a new direction if it takes you too far from that core idea.
Try not to get feedback until you're finished.
Consider not sending something in to the competition at all if you aren't happy with it: hard, I know, but if you don't feel something's ready, chances are a reader won't either. And there will always be other opportunities.
Consider all notes carefully. Don't rush in to a rewrite: the most obvious way to solve something isn't always the best.

Televisual Autopsy - Part 1

2008-12-07T11:42:00.000Z

There's a book by Douglas Hofstadter called Le Ton beau de Marot. It covers verse and verse translation, amongst other topics, and uses examples of poems written by Hofstadter himself (an academic, but hardly a poet) to illustrate the creative process. I remember the Poetry Review being very sniffy about this at the time of its publication: the level of detail gone into was, the reviewer felt, unseemly for poems which were previously unpublished and produced by not much more than a hobbyist. I suppose it was a fair enough point, as Hofstadter was probably more surprised at some of the mysteries of the writing process he uncovered than his readership were likely to be, given that they were inevitably poets and writers themselves, and would be engaging in that process every day, for their jobs and everything. It's still a good read though.

I preface today's post with the above tale, because I am aware that it might seem odd to go into detail about a work of mine that has proved a bit of a failure. But I am going to go ahead anyway, and explain what I felt went wrong with my Red Planet script, Life Support. I hope this is useful as an example of things it's probably best not to do. If I'm teaching you all to suck eggs, please forgive me: mine is a cautionary tale, that - no matter how many times one's been told the pitfalls - it's still easy to come a cropper. To put in context exactly how this came to be, I need to talk about the genesis of the idea.

And just in case this seems like me self-administering a public whipping, let me reiterate: I'm not giving up writing. Danny's latest post in his wonderful sequence on professionalism says it all: you have to deal with rejection, and learn from it. Read on for what I've learned this time...

The Red Planet competition was launched at this year's Screenwriters' Festival, and I started working immediately. In a rare quiet moment later that day, I sat on my own and started a mental inventory of possible ideas, but I didn't like any of them. I knew I wanted to do something naturalistic and straight. There were many reasons for this: partially it was inspired by The Wire's brilliant wonderfulness, but mainly it was because most of the longer example scripts in my portfolio have some fantasy elements, or voice overs, or tricksy structures. I was getting a bit tired of that kind of stuff and wanted to do something purer. Plus, all those things can put off a reader unless they're done really, really well.

I also knew I wanted to do a series in a character anthology style (i.e. the genre with no name). I like those kind of shows, and - as this was the first TV drama series I was to write - I thought it might be a more gentle learning curve to start with a structure that allowed me to write six mini-movies, one for each of my characters. I also thought it was a good thing to concentrate most of my time on creating the ensemble and let the plots arise from their characters. After watching all the BBC continuing dramas for so long, I'd firmly decided that characters, and in particular regular characters, are all. A good guest plot is a bonus, but people tune in to watch people, people they know and love.

I needed a linking device to bring my characters together. The idea finally came from one of the speakers at the Festival. There had been an infamous session with a life coach (she of the 'Baby steps, baby steps...' comment). I was musing on this afterwards, and it tickled me to think of what happens to you if you're going through life coaching, and your coach dies. Bing! Light bulb moment.

I still had problems to solve, though: was this a realistic precinct to get my characters together? This was important, as I was going to explode the precinct in episode one, by killing off the mentor character, and then explore whether the group dynamic could come back together and function again. So, it needed it to be a solid and realistic group to begin with; but, life coaching is usually a 1-on-1 activity. Though I did check, and you can get evening classes where groups go through something like life coaching, I didn't know if an audience would buy that.

Did it have to be life coaching? Surely any evening class would become some kind of support group after everyone's been going there for a while. How about a writing group? Write what you know, and all that. It gave me wonderful opportunities for conflict - in life coaching each person's goals would be different, so there would be no real room for jealousy at that level; it would be hard to dramatise 'you're getting yourself together faster than I am' but 'you've got published and I haven't' - everyone can understand that.

This was something I was wary of, though: some readers and script consultants will advise against anything that involves writers or writing: too in-jokey and incestuous. But, as I was avoiding screenwriting and concentrating on wannabe novelists (most of the general public don't think they have a screenplay in them, in fact they probably think the actors and director make it up as they're going along), and as I was working hard to make a distinct group of characters (different ages, different goals, inner and outer, i.e. it wasn't just going to be a bunch of arty twenty something media types), I thought I could get it to work.

In fact, this is the one thing that I'm not attempting to change in my rewrites - I like the novel writing class idea. It may well prove that it's a hard sell, and might not have been the best choice for a competition entry, but I'm sticking with it. Besides, the script had greater problems than that. I'd already sown the seeds of my own destruction (okay, okay, really I'd only sown the seeds for not getting into one competition and having to do a major rewrite - but that doesn't sound so good).

Next: how really really not to deal with peer review feedback...

Juvenilia #2 and some (possibly old) news

2008-12-03T14:25:00.005Z

Well, here's a turn up for the books: a play which I wrote when I was eighteen is getting its first ever performance in my old home town, Worthing, tonight and tomorrow. My co-writer back then, Alex Shaw (hello Alex!) is now a drama teacher and is putting it on at Worthing High School.

I don't get any money (hey - it was the first thing I thought of - maybe I'll get the freelancer mentality eventually!); nonetheless - if you're anywhere near there tomorrow night at 7pm - why not go along to see 'Double Glazed': it's just your usual, run-of-the-mill Time Travel Costume Drama Musical Comedy. I'm doing something else tomorrow night which I can't really get out of, unfortunately, so I won't be there - that's the second premiere of my work that I've missed out on in one year.

Still, this is a good sign. Maybe everything I've ever written will be bought and put on...

...eighteen years after I finish it. That's something to really hope for.

ADDITIONAL: As I was drinking with most of the blogosphere last night, some of you out there may not know this (and if you all already did, then forgive me for the old news): the episode of Charlie Brooker's Screenwipe that aired yesterday was not the usual sarcasmfest, but instead an incredibly indispensable set of interviews with some of the best TV writers around: Russell T Davies, Paul Abbott, Tony Jordan, Graham Linehan, Jesse Armstrong and Sam Bain . It's top! Go to iPlayer, or fire up your PVR/hard drive recorder/video for a repeat. Your brain will love you.

Stock Taken

2008-11-30T18:00:00.006Z

Well, I have to keep being a scriptwriter to a bit longer. Firstly, because otherwise Jason Arnopp will burn me and Phill Barron will kick me in the nuts; but also, I'll have to keep going until at least October now, 'cos they've changed the dates on next year's Screenwriting Festival. See Martin's blog for a summary. A festival? In a ladies' college? I can't miss that.

Some of my regular correspondents have taken slight exception to my last post. Yes - it was a bit of a vent; for that, everyone has my apologies. But I stand by the thrust of it: there's no point in immediately believing that the work just wasn't right for the reader or the competition. You've got to review the script entered, pull it apart and see if it's as good as it can be, even if this autopsy can be pretty depressing and make you feel like you should give up. And the honest-to-goodness reaction to not getting through in a competition is that it hurts like hell, and I wouldn't be a truthful writer if I pretended otherwise.

In this case, I know the sensibilities of a good few of the authors, and was privileged enough to see a few of the entries at points in their development before being submitted: I know that the subject matter and overall tone of what got through was very varied, and not a million miles away from the stuff I'm doing. So, what more can I have done? It may be nothing. Perhaps I was trying to do too much. Or too little. It may well be that the style I'm going for (white collar versions of Raymond Carver short stories but with more jokes, and on telly) isn't really suited to the schedules of today. Or it could be the kind of thing that's being done too much already. Or maybe it was just a rubbish idea.

Anyway, I'm not giving up, so I've been doing a few things over the last couple of days to make me feel more like a writer, to whit:

Analysing new dramas: just caught up with the first two episodes of Survivors. Quick capsule review (warning: very light spoilers): I'm liking it, after a questionable first half an hour where the build up to the apocalypse was a bit slow, and the logic of the contagion/poison was undermined - if it takes a different length of time for different people to die, why did everyone on the final day die overnight, no matter what their symptoms were like before? This is a dramatic virus, methinks. I shall catch up with Wallander tomorrow, and The Devil's Whore soon-ish.
Reading 'How to Guides' on writing: the Guardian gave lots of pamphlets away a month ago, on writing lots of different things: comedy, journalism, etc. and someone kept them for me. They make interesting reading. I'm saving 'Plays and Screenplays' until last. Yes - that's right: they're both covered together in one pamphlet. Like they're the same. Twelve pages to cover comedy was ambitious, but six to cover screenplays is just insulting. I'm looking forward to violently disagreeing with it, already.
Writing: I'm doing a big rewrite on the Life Support pilot. This isn't a kneejerk reaction to its not being selected. I think the idea has merit, but I've made a few mistakes which I want to rectify. I'll try to share some of that process over the next few posts, as - who knows - it might be useful.

Taking Stock

2008-11-28T15:32:00.003Z

Congratulations to all those who got through to the next (and final?) round of the Red Planet competition. Jason has handily collated all those winners from the blogosphere here. Well done, y'all.

But: hmm...

When a competition is held, and a large number of fellow bloggers and drinking buddies get through and I fail to get through, it's hard not to think: I should give up.

There, I've said it. No dancing around 'they were looking for something else' or 'it's not the right time' or 'I'm on some kind of different wavelength': despite spending a lot of time on it, my work wasn't good enough. I have to make it better, or quit.

We all need a certain amount of encouragement to keep going, otherwise we'd be insane to keep going. And though I'm not claiming not to be insane, I could do with some official encouragement at the moment, but it's thin on the ground. Maybe I'm missing something that's being told to me, loud and clear.

But I'm not giving up: I'll give it at least six more months before I start trying something different. And I'm not talking wildly different: I'm not going to be learning the ukulele, particle physics or African pottery: I'll just try writing novels, maybe - see how that pans out.

Nobody on their deathbed ever regrets not spending more time at work

2008-11-26T20:30:00.002Z

Worry not, Phill – I'm still alive! But my computer isn't quite yet. After getting a new desktop to replace my ever malfunctioning old one, I was in the middle of rebuilding it from various back ups and other sources . This took quite a while, and some things are possibly lost for good. I had to type the pilot episode script for my Red Planet entry in from scratch, copying from a paper copy, because the last time I backed things up, I'd hardly started it.

It was quite amusing: after having desperately searched every scrap of paper in my office, finally finding my activation key code, then chatting to a Final Draft support techie in the U.S. using some rather nifty InstantService web-chat instant messenger doodad, and getting the software un-registered from the broken down PC, and re-registered to my new one, I then copied the backup files from my portable hard drive, and – trembling,and with bated breath – clicked to open the file marked 'Life Support – Episode 1' . This is the extent of what I'd written before backing up:

INT.

That was it. Thank the Great God Aethismo I'd printed it out, that's all I can say. Except to add: if anyone who gave me notes has still got a copy of my one page series outline, could they send it to me, please? Don't seem to have that at all, any more. Do regular backups, ladies an gentlemen: learn from my stupidity.

Anyway, I was in the middle of rebuilding the computer when my monitor stopped working. I couldn't afford to replace it until pay day (this Friday just gone – it arrived today) and before that I was making do, using my old RGB projector hooked up to the PC and blasting the screen image all over one wall of the room – it's hard on the eyes (and the screenwriting process: see your script's faults writ large!), so progress has been slow.

I had the natty new netbook too, of course; but, enter another thief of my time: the day job. Don't get the wrong idea - I love my day job. But this time of year is always frantic and fraught. I work as a project manager for a team designing web sites and web applications. It's work I like, and I always find that the writing I do is better when I have a stable and enjoyable job of work to pay the bills; so, it contributes to my proper job too.

And, despite working for a financial institution, my day job seems for now to be unaffected by the credit crunch - fingers crossed. Certainly there's a lot of work coming in for the team. Too much. The problem is that big institutions, even in the web technology area, err on the side of caution (except, obviously in the area of mortgage lending, but let's not go there) and a change freeze operates throughout December when I can't put any websites live.

So, the year end rush of projects happens in November as people use up their budget, instead of in December when people want to be on holiday. It's nice in a way. But it means that round about now I'm horribly busy. It was the same last year too – I had a working computer then, but I was also writing a feature; I seem to remember a November of the comments section bursting with chides for my not posting enough. Plus ca change.

Anyway, all is fixed up now, and by the end of Friday the day job will have settled down too. Expect more blather here then.

FYI

2008-10-30T13:28:00.005Z

My replacement desktop is ordered and being built - I'm due to get a delivery date by the end of the week. And, thanks to the blatant advertising on Paul Campbell's blog, I have succumbed and got myself a netbook too (but I decided on the Samsung NC10, Mmmm - lovely!), which should be sent to me on November 1st. It'll be a race to see which gets here first, but whichever it is, I should be returning full time to the Blogosphere very soon.

I've missed you all, dammit!

The Machine Stops (Slight Return)

2008-10-15T12:24:00.003+01:00

My PC has broken down. Again! And, alas, as my day job is in the financial services industry, unneccesary web surfuing is frowned upon in the current climate of downturn and crunch (nothing to do with productivity, though - it's just that so many people are online checking out the current share price, they're bringing down the web proxy).

So, I'm being a bit naughty and sneaking some time at the blog face to bemoan my computerless fate, and tell you all the things I would have written about, had I the means. Firstly, Russell T Davies's book, which I've just finished, was very entertaining, contains some useful advice (Russell's section on cliched soap behaviour is a must read), and quite scary in places (his description of the punishing schedules of both writing and promotion made me feel sorry for him for a second, until I realised that - yes! - of course I would take on the job if it was offered to me).

And I've also been tagged with the song meme by Paul Campbell and I have a very good idea for a lyric connected to screenwriting to share with you all. But it will have to wait. I need to buy a new computer first...

Back back back...

2008-10-02T14:41:00.006+01:00

...and raring to go. Returned from holiday last week only to fall directly into a big load of man flu. I'm over it now, and looking to get busy with a short film idea for Digital Shorts, work on 'Santa Baby', further obsessive tweaks to the last 50 pages of my Red Planet script, and - not least - catch up with everybody's blogs from the last couple of weeks.

But I'm not doing any of that yet, because I have been reading "The Writer's Tale" by Russell T Davies, a weighty tome about the day-to-day slog and thought process of the showrunner of Doctor Who. I've only read the first few chapters, but it's enthralling. It takes the form of emails going back and forth between Russell and a journalist during the writing and production of the last series of Doctor Who. This captures lots of lovely detail that a traditional 'How To Write' book or even an autobiography would never mention.

I recommend it to anyone interested in professional writing...

...but I really ought to stop reading it and do some writing myself.

A Voice from Beyond the Grave (Well, the New Forest Actually)

2008-09-25T07:00:00.001+01:00

I've only just realised that blogger has a facility where you can post-date a blog entry, and have it automatically populate on a particular day and at a particular time. Woo, and as is custom, hoo!

So, I'm writing this minutes before I get in the car to go off for a break in the New Forest (I'd love to pretend I'm staying in Autumnal England for carbon footprint reasons, but alas it's only because I still haven't got round to getting the little 'un a passport). But, if all goes well, you'll be seeing this on Thursday midway through my break. Ain't technology wonderful.

I'm sure I'm enjoying myself, and I hope you are too. Only a day or two left to get that Red Planet application off: good luck!

See you in October!

Out of Office Autoreply

2008-09-22T09:00:00.006+01:00

I don't normally need to make a fuss when I go away for a while, as I usually post so infrequently that it can go unnoticed. But, having made an effort to up my game of late, it is probably necessary to tell you all that I am off on holiday for a week with the family, so there won't be any posts for a while.

I have left the blog's downstairs light on, so people will think I'm in (and staying up all night every night, without moving from one spot). If you come by to water the blog's plants, and spot that the freebie newspaper is hanging half-out of my blog's letter box, please do me a favour and knock it all the way through, or else blog thieves may notice, break in, and make off with all my best posts.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to the break, as work's been pretty full on recently. My Red Planet entry is finished, sealed and sent. I'm keeping everything crossed - I'm pretty pleased with it, and to be honest, just producing the material is enough of a win for me (not that I'll be knocking Tony back if he wants to invite me to the next round, of course).

Also, once I get back, as well as lot of other ideas that are nagging away at my mind wanting to be written, there's another round of digital shorts to think about. The scheme is opening for submissions in all the screen agencies across the regions, and I'm thinking about putting in a longer script this year. While I'm away, if you're also thinking of entering, my posts on the scheme and my experiences with it are as linked below, and may be useful:

Digital Shorts - Part 1: Submission

Digital Shorts - Part 2: Selection

Digital Shorts - Part 3: Script Development

Digital Shorts - Part 4: Shooting

Have a great week: see you soon!

Inspirations 5: Rectangle of Cloth

2008-09-20T14:58:00.003+01:00

Today's Inspiration: El Mariachi

The final stepping stone on my path leads me to the DVD age.

Though I had been 20-odd years watching Private Schultz, Minder, The Ladykillers, Doctor Who, The Singing Detective and many more shows on the goggle box, I'd never owned my own TV. My family had had one, then my college had had one, then flat mates or girlfriends had had one, I'd just shared each for long spells.

[This ain't an isolated phenomenon - I don't think I've ever bought a tea towel, but I always seem to have a collection of them. I've never been to Torbay. I don't know anyone who's been to Torbay. I don't even know where Torbay is: how did I get a rectangle of cloth emblazoned with it's tourist attractions? Mysteries...]

I moved into my own flat in 1999 and had to face the inevitable - I was going to have to buy a TV. I had my eye on a widescreen model, and I was going to buy a DVD player to go with it, as they'd started to become popular. I mentioned this to a colleague, and he said 'You only really need that equipment if you watch a lot of films'. Hmm, I thought, he's right: if I get that equipment I'll be able to watch a lot of films: great!

And so I did, and the beauty of getting on board when the DVD delivery medium was new was that a lot of old classics (film and TV) were getting reissued in the new format; I had my film school education in front of a cathode ray tube, gobbling up British classics, and Hollywood greats, as well as indie pics.

And you don't get more indie than Robert Rodriguez's mega low budget action flick, El Mariachi, which I bought in a double pack with Desperado. The film is great fun, but the real revelation was listening to the director's commentary. Everything that had inspired me up to that point seemed out of my reach: they were made in fancy studios by Olympian professionals. If I was to get my stuff to an audience, I thought, I'd have to get patronage from someone of that ilk. But here was some one who'd been successful by just doing it himself, and he was telling me that I could do the same, and not only that, but he was telling me how.

Very soon, I'd bought a digital camera, and got some editing software, and I was making my own movies. None of them set the world alight but each one was a learning experience, and made me a better writer. There's nothing like shooting and editing your own material to hammer home what is dispensable or otherwise on the page. And working with the limitations of budget is always good for the imagination.

I recommend any Rodriguez DVD: even if you don't like the film you get value for money. As well as insightful commentaries, there's always a ten minute film school featurette on every disc, and even a rather wonderful ten minute cookery school on Once Upon a Time in Mexico.

Next: I realise that I may have created a meme here. I'm not going to send this out to five other bloggers, because if it's a worthy meme it will self-replicate. If you want to list five films or TV shows that have been of autobiographical significance to you (you don't have to ramble on as much as I did) then please go ahead, but please do drop me a line to let me know you've done so.

Inspirations 4: Better than normal

2008-09-19T06:28:00.004+01:00

Today's Inspiration: The Singing Detective

People like different things, and there's nothing wrong with that. When you're an adolescent and you've been through your taste-defining stage without really realising it, but you haven't learnt enough to appreciate the limitations of what you hold to be of quality, sometimes you can be brought up sharp by different views or attitudes than your own. That doesn't mean those other views aren't wrong however...

I was about 14 when The Singing Detective first aired, and I watched the lot; suitable or not, I didn't care: I knew I was seeing something unique and special. I respect Dennis Potter as a great TV dramatist, and I respect the writer's place as primary author of a work; but, the director Jon Amiel has to take a lot of credit too - he found a visual style beyond anything Potter had imagined, and produced something head and shoulders above Potter's works up to that point.

It was provocative, it was ambitious, it could be called pretentious, you may even hate it. Fine. When it was first repeated, I devoured it once more. I was - what? - a year older and it meant more to me again. By then, I was a hospital radio DJ (apologies, all the other kids were doing it, and it seemed like a good idea at the time) and one night mid-series I was doing some fund-raising event or collecting dedications on the wards or some such. I commented to another hospital radio bod (Stuart Norval - who now reads the local BBC news down here in the South, and good on him) that I had to rush back to see The Singing Detective.

Stuart thought about this, and said: “But it's boring, innit?”

It may be provocative, ambitious, pretentious, you may even hate it. But it's not boring. I was left mouth agape guppy-fish style. I could not believe that anyone really felt like that. But after a short period of time (about twenty years) I got over it, and realised Stuart wasn't lying, and it is possible to be bored by anything, even drama. But I knew I never would be.

I, like every other writer on my blog roll, and every other writer in the world whatever level, will never be bored by this stuff - we can't switch off, we can't ignore it, it nags at the back of our mind and makes us feel guilty if we're not thinking about it. We have to live with that, and some people don't: they don't even know there's a Red Planet competition, let alone will they be scouring their inbox and the world wide web in a few weeks to see if they or anyone they know has won. They call these 'normal people'.

But writers, to paraphrase Philip J. Fry, are better than normal: they're abnormal. Hooray for that!

Next: El Mariachi

Inspirations 3: Snake/Buddhist metaphor

2008-09-16T08:14:00.006+01:00

Today's Inspiration: Doctor Who

I missed out on Tom Baker, because I got into Who late. The main reason for this was sheer terror - the theme tune sent me scurrying from the room, and the only glimpses I'd catch usually involved that most fearsome of creatures: K9, or as he appeared to my fevered Childish imaginings: 'Doctor Oo's little horse'. He would belch out beams of red death that felled many a guard. Evil.

But I saw a big load of repeats, including all the old doctors, in the Autumn after Baker quit, and then I saw Peter Davison's first year on the job, and I was hooked. I remember having to feign illness twice to get out of cubs so that I could see every episode of Kinda and enjoy odd pre-pubescent stirrings seeing Janet Fielding being all possessed by a snake/Buddhist metaphor.

[Another aside, another survey: I remember everyone at cubs having a vote on their favourite TV show. I told the truth this time, but Doctor Who only got my vote. What won? TJ flippin' Hooker by a landslide. The 80s, they really were a different place.]

Anyway, as soon as I got into Doctor Who, I also got into a thing called Doctor Who Magazine. And for years, it was the only magazine I read about the making of television. And it was good too: always highlighting the importance of the writer, and covering pretty much every aspect of production, in increasing detail during the wilderness period before the 2005 resurgence.

It was in DWM that I read about Robert McKee's Story book and seminar in an article about story structures in 1999. I booked myself on the next available London dates: my first writing course. And that was what started my path to where I am now, for better or worse.

Now a parent, I find myself in the same position mine were way back when: should I be too stringent? Or is that worse than being too lax? As a confused white liberal, I do the whole "we don't like to let him watch too much television" thing, but - you know - it didn't do me any harm (twitch).

This year, as my boy was two years old, and Doctor Who was being shown earlier, I thought I'd give it a try. The cute Adipose episode was fine, and he seemed to really enjoy it (although at 45 minutes he was getting restless halfway through - Daddy sat rapt throughout, obviously). But the following week, big lava monsters in Pompeii scared the be-jesus out of him. Who do you think you are scaring my child, Mister Moran?* Well, you're pretty cool, actually. I'm sure some day soon he'll be remembering "the one with the big lava monsters" in fond terms.

Or he'll think Doctor Who is rubbish 'cos his Dad likes it, and he'll want to play football instead. Well, it'll be fun finding out...

* If it wasn't clear, this is not an attack on James, but a very obscure Doctor Who reference. If you know to what it refers, you are as sad as me. Well done.

Next: The Singing Detective

Inspirations 2: Square-Eyed Boy

2008-09-15T09:22:00.006+01:00

Today's Inspiration: The Ladykillers

Continuing my attempt to catalogue some of the key films or shows that have collided with me autobiographically, and inspired me to do such a crazy thing as write. Raymond Carver called these his 'Fires' although in the same essay he claimed that his only real 'fires' were his children - he had to keep writing to feed and clothe them. I sensed a hint of bitterness, reading between his lines, and anyone who's ever read his short story "Elephant" - and if not, why not? Go! Go read it now! - will know, he could certainly access that feeling in his subconscious and use it as a motivation for one of his protagonists.

I am lucky enough (in some ways) to only write for love (for the most part) and not to feed my son. There's always a silver lining, and the day job's is that I am freed from the curse of the freelancer; not, mind, that I wouldn't like the opportunity to give it a try sometime soon-ish. I wonder what my son, once he's old enough to appreciate it, will make of a Dad who has this burning desire to write.

My own Dad, rest his soul, did try to reach out to his square-eyed boy, but as Dad's main viewing habits involved football and athletics, there wasn't much common ground. One wonderful gift that he gave me, though, was The Ladykillers (the original, obviously). It was on BBC2 one Saturday, and he said 'Sit down and watch this, it's great' and he was right. It was. It is.

Should I do the same for my son when the time comes? Yeah. One day, I'll stick the DVD on (there's no chance, I guess, of BBC2 showing it any more) and see what he thinks. If he hates it, at least that will save him from the curse: my Dad was responsible for instilling the preconception in me that all British films I saw from that day on would be five-star works of fabtastic genius. Obviously, a lifetime of slight disappointment ensued.

Next: Doctor Who

Inspirations 1: Before German n'er-do-wells, or famous Gallifreyans

2008-09-14T23:42:00.005+01:00

I've just spotted that Private Schultz is out on DVD. When this was first on, I remember watching it - I was quite young, maybe younger than 10 - and feeling something odd and wonderful. I now know that I was responding to great writing, but at the time it just felt like I had learned a secret. No kids of my acquaintance were watching Private Schultz (it was written by the same person that adapted the 70s version of I Claudius, I now find out!). If it had been nowadays, I suppose I could have just gone online to find a TV and film forum to talk to people about it (and they'd all be snooty to me 'cos I'd be younger than 10) but back then I had many years keeping those secrets.

So, over the next few days I'm going to post five more inspirations, with annotations on their autobiographical significance (forgive me the indulgence, I need something to post about and "wrote a lot today because of imminent deadline" is going to get boring very quickly).

Today's inspiration: Minder

Before I discovered the TV adventures of German n'er-do-wells, or famous Gallifreyans, my favourite programme was Minder. Minder was great.

I remember when I was about seven at infants school we had a lesson where the teacher took a survey of when was everyone's bedtime (dunno what this was supposed to teach us). I lied and said I was tucked up in bed by 7pm. But I was always awake till past 10 every night watching programmes like Minder and The Sweeney. My parents were wonderful. Or lax. I haven't worked out which yet.

Only one child put their hand up to a post 10pm bedtime. He was a rough but cool kid: I really should have got to know him better - we might have been watching all the same programmes.

[An aside: you know how people say they didn't realise TV shows had writers or directors when they were young (and it must be true, for so many different people keep saying it). I don't remember thinking that exactly, but I do remember a feeling that everything on TV wasn't real, like a photo-realistic animation, and all the people on TV were controlled avatars of some kind. Except Frank Muir.

I thought Frank must be real because he was on both Call My Bluff and a Cadbury's Fruit and Nut commercial ('Everyone's a fruit and nut case'). So, for a period of some months (maybe even years) I believed the only people that existed were those I'd met and Frank Muir. Needless to say, I was something of a strange kid. For some reason, though, Dennis Waterman was immune to this despite also being in two shows. I'm still not sure Dennis Waterman exists.]

To keep the spirit of my youth alive I still go to bed after 10, and I regularly lie in surveys.

Next: The Ladykillers

Heads Up

2008-09-10T21:28:00.004+01:00

Very late notice, I know, but this is a little forewarning that a film what I wrote "Lent" is going to be screened at 5.30pm, at The Odeon, Aylesbury on Monday 15th September, as part of a programme of Screen South offerings playing at the Short Cuts Film Festival in Buckinghamshire. Details here: http://www.cliffproductions.co.uk/shortcuts08.htm

Alas, I didn't get sufficient notice of this to attend myself, I will instead be at the Writers' Guild event which the venerable Mister Paul Campbell advertises here. But it's jolly exciting all the same...

Notes on Notes

2008-09-08T22:30:00.000+01:00

have just finished reviewing two other writers Red Planet scripts, as part of this script swap feedback challenge that a group of us are trying out. It's all timeboxed, as it should be: the scripts had to be completed and submitted by August 31st, and the feedback returned by midnight last night. The second deadline was much harder than the first, and I finally finished the feedback by about 11pm last night, exhausted.

This was because script reading is hard. I salute you, script readers all over the world - I could not do this for a living. The major problem is being careful not to give notes for the sake of it just to look like one is giving good value. Also, there is the constant paranoia that one's own style and preconceptions are colouring the impression of material (and, of course, they are). Anyway, I am safe in the knowledge that the writers I was critiquing are big enough and good enough to ignore my notes if they don't suit.

Now, I have the still pretty difficult task of taking the responses to my script, searching for the sticking points which were mentioned by most or every respondent, and formulating ways of fixing those without getting rid of too much I like. Another run through the 60 page script, and a few more passes on the first 10 and the outline by the end of September in time for the Red Planet deadline. Easy.

Of course, I have a family holiday starting on the 20th, and I promised The Wife that there would be absolutely no writing interfering with my duties as husband and father on that holiday. So, I've actually only got twelve days! Oh shit. Better get back to work then.

Grumpy Old Man Syndrome

2008-09-04T09:24:00.006+01:00

I'd like to expound for a moment upon a session at this year's Screenwriting Festival in Cheltenham. Maybe I'm getting to be a Grumpy Old Man, or maybe it's a quality of writers that we like to be contrary sometimes, but I very much enjoyed the opening keynote speech by Barbara Machin. Because I disagreed with it.

Well, not every single thing, obviously: Barbara was lovely, and gave her time freely and enthusiastically in multiple sessions across the three days, so good on her. I've also enjoyed what I've seen of her work (her Bafta winning 'multiple perspective' episode of Casualty was sheer class); and, the general message that writers should strive to keep audiences interested is self-evidently true. But Barbara's speech, and the article she wrote for Broadcast on the week of the festival which covered the same ground, seemed to limit the notion of innovation to a dangerous degree.

There is a write up of the speech here which also links to other bloggers' coverage (I wish I could keep as good notes as Jason - I guess I'm too busy sitting in the audience being contrary) but if you missed it, the thrust was thus: audience's are bored by drama, reality and entertainment formats are kicking our butts in the ratings, the US are putting us to shame, and commissioners, script editors, and writers shouldn't be scared of doing non-conventional narratives.

There was also a point where Barbara stated "There never was a golden age of TV" before listing many old shows in a wistful tone that made me think she didn't quite believe herself. But she's right, there never was - it just seems like it because people didn't seem to really know what they were doing, and (maybe) there were less gatekeepers.

Every aspiring 21st Century comedy writer must have gritted their teeth on hearing the old story of the early Monty Python meeting in the late sixties, where some Beeb Suit asked the boys lots of questions about what their new show was going to be like, the answer to each was a shrug and a 'dunno'. 'Okay,' the Suit replied finally, peeved, 'But you can only have thirteen episodes.'

Maybe things were freer then, but I'm not convinced: that Python anecdote has the shape of one that's been finely honed over the subsequent decades, and anyway the Beeb Suit had just bagged six seasoned TV writers, including John Cleese - who was already a star - so they knew they weren't exactly backing a three-legged pony. But, even if true, was the amount of quality programming really that different in those days? No. The good programmes have only endured because people liked them, we've forgotten all the forgettable ones.

Same for the States: we get a lot of great stuff imported from HBO, and a few inspired shows from the networks too, but there's a load of old toss produced across the pond that we never see. And a lot of them never get seen by our American cousins either, as the shows tend to get shit-canned after three episodes.

And are entertainment format ratings out-flanking drama's significantly more than they always have? Again, I don't think so. More people were watching New Faces than Dennis Potter's plays, weren't they?! It's no different.

But it's a constant fight, and we shouldn't be complacent. We do need to innovate to survive. So, what is innovation? What is non-conventional narrative? The examples given were flash forwards to start an episode (an example was given from the West Wing), multi-character perspectives, and... Oh, I'm yawning already. Because these techniques are hoary old clichés. Yes, the approach worked on Casualty, and I loved it, but that was - what? - two years ago now. It's been done. And as anyone who's watched more than four episodes of Battlestar Galactica in one sitting (and why not?) can tell you, flash forwards get old very quickly.

I'm being unfair of course. It isn't easy to list examples of innovations, because if you've got an example of it already being done: it ain't really an innovation anymore.

So, what's to do? Well, it's not so gloomy. There's a recent drama that holds it's own against the reality shows, is always top non-soap drama of the week and a top ten show. It often beats the soaps and has reached number 1 in the ratings on several occasions. That show is New Tricks. Yes. The one with Dennis Waterman and Co: a cold case detective show, i.e. a format as old as the sun; its only twist is that the detectives are old, just like the cases. Which is, of course, in its own way, both innovative and brilliant. The show has found a loyal audience, and this seems well deserved to me, even though it's not my cup of tea.

The Wire *is* my cup of tea, and is loved and talked about by many (though perhaps not tuned into by so many - it's more of a DVD phenomenon). And The Wire deliberately eschewed any formal tricksiness and embraced as total a realism as it could. Which is, of course, in its own way, both innovative and brilliant.

I agree with Barbara Machin: every series should strive to be different, but how it should be different should not be imposed from without, but should develop from within. True innovation will emerge naturally, if talented people do their imaginative best to entertain and surprise their audience; it will emerge from a premise, or a plot, or most importantly from characters that people might love. If we start with just the idea that we should innovate, we will get into trouble. I do worry that, in a speech given to an audience with a large proportion of writers who are starting out, Barbara might have made a dogma out of trotting out flashbacks and voice over and all that boring stuff.

But maybe I'm just a Grumpy Old Man.

A post a day...

2008-09-03T10:45:00.005+01:00

As I am often criticised (in a friendly manner, mind) by my blog-o-peers for the somewhat sporadic nature of my posting, I set myself a challenge recently to do a week straight of daily posts, without skimping too much on content. Hooray! I managed it. Well, you can make up your own mind about the content: without days and weeks to ponder, I do tend to rant on occasion, apologies for that.

The interesting thing about this is that I have done more and more focused writing during the week I was strenuously blogging than I have for a while previously. It might well be coincidence, or something to do with having a birthday, but I seem to have upped my game a little. Does this mean that I can't use being busy as an excuse anymore? Well, no...

As I'm doing a script report on two Red Planet entries, brainstorming some ideas for 'Santa Baby' and continuing my work on 'Life Support' I am going to revert to posting every couple of days. But please feel free to drive by and blog-o-insult me if it all gets too quiet round here again.

Everyone's a Critic 2

2008-09-02T20:59:00.002+01:00

Well, the internet has failed to heed my advice to be nicer and more constructive.

"The Wrong Door" was broadcast the other day (only got round to seeing it on the iPlayer yesterday, because I've been busy with things like doing one post here per day - it's killing me, I tells ya!). Anyway, the scribosphere's own Phill "Phill 'The Barron' Barron" Barron's written some sketches for the series. See his lovely blog here for further nice information: it was received well in most quarters, the ratings were good, they built over the course of the episode.

All wonderful, you may think. But no! What you have failed to see is that Barron is a sinner. He has been guilty of that most uncommon of vices - he's got work out there, and to a sizeable audience. And to compound it, it's work that is trying (and succeeding, at least in this house) to make people laugh. What a naughty fellow!

You'd think Phill had strangled the Queen Mother's otter or something to see the reaction in the dustier corners of the web. Some people have taken the time out to go to his blog, and abuse the show and him in the comments section. Luckily, Phill isn't me (I'd be weeping buckets by now) and has taken this in his stride. And good on him, because it's a triumph to get paying gigs, let alone get things made, let alone get things watched.

Sad to say, a forum of which I'm a member, and which I used to think was rather civilised and above this sort of thing, has got a thread going titled "The Wrong Door - Good Grief"; and in this thread a poster has linked to Phillip's blog, making some derisory comments, and putting the "blame"squarely at his door. This is all wrong. It's wrong to put it at his door. Wrong door (this subliminal advertising lark is easy, isn't it? I'll take cash or cheque, Phill).

Serious Point time: How about this? Don't say something in print to someone online that you wouldn't tell them to their face. That works for me. (Imagine if the person you were slagging off was sitting next to you, how embarrassed would you feel).

Bits and Bobs

2008-09-01T16:47:00.003+01:00

Yesterday: I completed the first 10 pages of the pilot script and one page outline for 'Life Support' according to deadline. The writers' group will now provide feedback on each others work: one person facilitates, by randomly selecting which scripts go to whom. So, I will have one or two sets of feedback to do this week, and will get one or two sets of feedback on my own work in return. I'm looking forward to trying this approach - it might not be as comprehensive as Power of Three, but it is probably more applicable at times where everyone in the scribosphere is maxed out working to the same competition deadline.

Today: Had a meeting with Colin Stevens of Green Steven Films, where we signed the option contract for my screenplay 'Santa Baby'. Lovely! Great discussions were had about possible additions, which I'm going to brainstorm over the next two weeks. This is a short live-action project that has got good responses from everyone who's seen it, and Colin and I think it has great potential to be a seasonal TV offering. Here's hopin'. And do watch this space - I'm looking forward to keeping the blog updated about this one.

Tomorrow: I'm sending off another script to the BBC Writers' Room, which I'm printing tonight. I'm trying to get three or four pieces to them per year, depending on quality and suitability of what I have to submit. This should hopefully keep my name in the frame without constituting a bombardment.

That's all for the mo'. Hope everyone is having a productive time right now. Hey - when did it get to be September?

Room Meme

2008-08-31T12:02:00.002+01:00

About seventy-four years ago, Sir Jason of Arnopp he done memed me, to post a picture of my work area. Now my computer is all fixed, I can post it. Some points of note:

1) Creative mess = genius.

2) Hint of further large number of DVDs just out of shot gives an inkling of exactly how much money I've wasted over the years.

3) Ergonomic desk and seating desperately required (all donations welcome).

4) Lack of impressive board on the wall adorned with many Post-It note plot points. I was going to prepare one for the photo, but I was too busy writing.

5) That's "Life Support" on that screen there, that is.

6) My valiant attempt at redecorating my study has stalled at the 'strip wallpaper' stage, and proceeded no further. We moved at the end of November 2007. There's no excuse...

Reward Based Learning

2008-08-30T15:31:00.005+01:00

I am motoring through the script right now, but it's only by the grace of DVD shop clerks not being literal that I'm getting any writing done at all.

Looking for a suitable birthday present for me, my better half ventured into town to buy a boxset without the use of the internet, and found herself in HMV or Zavvi or some such place. Knowing that I have watched all but one of the available seasons of The Wire on DVD, she asked in three separate establishments for "the most recent season of the Wire on DVD". Oh, the vagaries of the English language! For, to a one, each of them said "It's not out until September".

Due to this confusion, my better half decided not to risk it, and got me something else instead. Of course, I haven't seen series 4 yet, and that is ""the most recent season of the Wire on DVD" because - as they so rightly stated - season 5 isn't out until September. Never mind. As I say, I'd have never got anything done if I was glued to new Wire episodes (it really is that compulsive) so I shall save it as a reward for getting my entry into Red Planet next month.

And I most defintely won't buy it tomorrow. No siree. I am strong.

Must... prevent... self... from ordering... The Wire...

Life Support Progress Report, and sad news

2008-08-29T10:54:00.010+01:00

I'm surprised at how very energised I'm feeling to be working on a TV project. Maybe this is vindication for my decision to concentrate on non-film work from now on, or maybe it's just the freedom of working just for myself (for now) on spec work; whatever it is, I'm enjoying myself.

Progress so far: my computer is fixed, I've developed lots of background material on characters and world, and I've plotted out my pilot episode. So, finally, I get to do what I've been putting off, and start producing some pages. Sitting down and writing a draft can be fun, as Jason and Danny have posted about, most informatively and entertainingly, recently.

And, as part of a writing challenge with a group of other writers, I'm going to complete the first ten pages (and one page series outline) by the end of August, and get feedback from the group, as well as give feedback on other people's scripts. To be honest, it's probably a bit early for my script, but a challenge is a challenge; and all notes can be useful, one way or other.

ADDITIONAL: I've just read the very sad news that Geoffrey Perkins has died in a car accident at a ridiculously young age. I'd never met him, but his name was on the credits on pretty much every comedy programme that meant anything to me in my youth. A terrible shock.

Character Options

2008-08-28T20:07:00.004+01:00

I'm doing something in the development of 'Life Support' that I've never done before: I'm casting it. I don't mean that I'm organising a table read (although, thinking about it, that's a bloody good idea). No, I'm putting an actor to each of the regular characters in my head.

I know I'm late to this party, and everyone probably already does this: with feature scripts, I've often been asked 'Who do you see playing this part?' and I've never before been able to answer definitively. But now, if asked, I could tell you my whole cast.

I haven't cheated either: I've refrained from using Hollywood A-listers, or casting myself, or anyone dead or otherwise unavailable. It's a plausible ensemble, with one role written for a non-famous actor friend, and the rest going to TV actors of whom I'm fond. One cameo has been written with a legend in mind. But it's only a day or two's of filming, and a vital and interesting role, so it didn't stretch the bounds of the possible.

Of course, when it gets made (well, why not?) I will probably not be consulted that much, and even if I were, I wouldn't get my dream cast. For this reason, I'll be superstitious and not name names.

It has certainly proved a very useful exercise in helping me to find a unique voice for each of my characters, and I've tried to avoid the obvious pitfall of limiting any creative choices based on whom I've got in mind. But anything that concentrates on character, to my mind, can't be going too far wrong.

Two year retrospective

2008-08-27T19:42:00.004+01:00

It's my birthday today, and I'm now closer to 40 than I am to 30, so forgive me if you find me in contemplative mood. I'm currently in the middle of a course; it's nothing to do with screenwriting, it's for the day job. But it's being held in a training centre in Holborn that I attended another course at, almost exactly two years ago. And it was at that course where I took a call telling me my script had been picked for the Film Council's digital shorts programme.

I don't want to blow the event out of all proportion - before that I'd had lots of encouragement from industry professionals, had done lots of courses, written reams and reams, and made many, many no-budget short films. But that phone call meant proper recognition. And budget. So, I mark that day as a starting point of sorts.

Two years later, and I'm reflecting on what I've achieved in that time. I haven't stopped working - up to and including today, I've always had some contracted screenwriting on the go, as well as a healthy amount of spec work, which is good. Conversely, I haven't stopped working at the day job either - the screenwriting I've done has not paid well enough up front for me to reduce my hours toiling in the big smoke. But that's the UK film industry, and I knew what it was like before I started.

It comes down to a question of why one has chosen to write in the first place. I do it, and I don't think I'm a special case, because I'm arrogant enough to think I have something unique to say that might entertain people. I don't do it for the chance of money. Although that would be nice, because something else has happened in those two years - I've rather wonderfully got a family and a mortgage and commitments. And these commitments do impact on the screenwriting, there's no way they could not.

So, I have decided for now to concentrate on developing broadcast opportunities, which will mean trying radio plays and getting a script on Doctors for starters. I have one ongoing short film commitment, which the director and I hope will turn out to be a TV project of sorts too (very exciting - watch this space!).

As I want to stay based in the UK, it makes sense to concentrate my efforts on an area which has the best chance of providing an eventual income for my family. And the day job allows me to not be in any particular hurry too, as TV's obviously a very competitive arena to break into. I won't be saying goodbye to film forever, and I will obviously revise this policy quick-smart if Steven Spielberg turns up at my door with a shedload of cash to replace Steven Moffat on the next Tin Tin movie. But barring that possibility, it's Au Revoir Cinema for a bit.

This thing I'm writing... what the hell is it, exactly?

2008-08-26T20:04:00.004+01:00

I'm glad to end the radio silence of the last week or two; there was a good reason for it - I was hard at work on my series pilot, which I'm planning to enter into the Red Planet competition. In fact, I don't know why I'm being so coy about it: it's called Life Support, it's a 6 x 60 minute contemporary drama TV series and it's one of those thingummy types of one that there isn't a proper term for, or at least not one I know.

I recently met up with a bunch of writers and bloggers for a few drinks in that London. I canvassed opinions then, and no one there could think of a convincing moniker either. This is my personal view on how the categories break down:

Soap (Coronation Street, Eastenders, Emmerdale) - in it's purest form a soap opera has a group of characters, each of whom will take the protagonist role in a running plot line, several of which will be running at one time, overlapping, and they'll never all end at the same time. Programme runs till it gets canned (and if they see it coming far enough in advance there might be closure, like Brookside or Eldorado managed). There are no guest protagonists coming in for one or more episodes. Corrie occasionally doles out guest roles for multiple episodes (e.g. Ian McKellan's stint) but they won't be protagonist of a plot in the same way as the guest(s) of the week in a Casualty episode.

Precinct drama (Holby City, Casualty, The Bill in most of its incarnations) - has running soap plots for its main cast ongoing, but also has guest protagonists coming in for an episode or more. These guest plots might well reflect on or complicate a main character's ongoing soap plot. Can be running all year round, or can run in series with breaks, like Heartbeat for example.

Drama series (Bonekickers, Ashes to Ashes, Doctor Who) - do often tell one loose story over a series, or one story over all their series, but each episode stands on its own merit, more or less. Might have guest protagonists, but will definitely have one or more regular main characters. Obviously it's a broad spectrum - some series' episodes will be more self-contained than others.

Series where one year's run equals a serial (The Wire, 24) - special case of the above, quite popular nowadays. Each episode of a series can't be taken on it's own, but there's closure for some plots every year, and something of a jumping on point at the beginning of any new series. Some UK drama series are experimenting with this form for their latest runs (Torchwood, Spooks).

Anthology Series (Tales of the Unexpected, The Twilight Zone) - Diametrically opposite to a soap, I suppose. No running protagonist, new guest plot every week. Not that fashionable on British television at the moment. Unless I've forgotten a really obvious example, which I might well have done. I'll kick msyelf, I'm telling you...

Drama serials (Criminal Justice, Burn Up). One off multi-episode dramas. Could be multi-protagonist, but is the most likely of any of these to be single protagonist, as they are generally shorter and more focused.

Telenovella (the original Ugly Betty) - a long serial with soap style plots for its protagonists, but it eventually will come to a definite end.

But what I'm writing isn't exactly any of these. It's another type of beast, something like The Street, currently, or historically Boys from The Blackstuff as well as many others. It's a series of linked, sole protagonist episodes, based around a connected group of people, one of whom is centre-stage each week. The leads of other episodes might be in the other stories, substantially, or as walk-ons, or not there at all (in Life Support, I've taken the decision that they will all appear in every episode, the continuation of their individual plots still hinted at in the background.)

So, what I'm writing isn't totally unprecedented (phew! I'd be worried if it were) but what's it called? Is there an industry or academic standard term? The best the London Meet could come up with is Character Anthology, but that doesn't encapsulate the connectedness of the protagonists. And does it really matter? Suggestions to the usual address.

Everyone's a Critic

2008-08-06T09:44:00.000+01:00

I'm glad I'm not the only one who likes 'Bonekickers'. I've watched four of the episodes so far (not last night's yet), and read a lot of hostile reviews on the internet and some in the press too. But I love it. I thought I was missing something obvious that was wrong with what seems to me to be a fun adventure series. But I've asked other people (a lot of them writers, but some normal people as well) and they were all positive about it. And it's figures have been pretty solid, too.

The latest copy of the Radio Times (I buy it for the articles) has a piece laying into the series by their TV editor - and presumably no relation to Matthew or Julie - Alison Graham. (Oh, Alison Graham. My mother taught me that if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all, so here's my thoughts about Alison Graham: .) She trots out examples of the show's 'terrible' dialogue, such as "Don't mess with me, I'm an archaeologist". Excuse me? Isn't that line, well, fab?! Maybe it's just me.

This all got me thinking about critical reactions in general. I remember asking Matthew Graham when I met him at the BBC writers' room event whether he was still (or ever?) brave enough to visit any 'Life on Mars' online forums. The worst he'd ever spotted was someone claiming he should "die" for something he'd done in a LoM script. He stopped looking upon finding that. I didn't ask what had prompted this reaction, but this was on a fan site for goodness sake. With fans like that...

Still, Matt can take anything in his stride: he had earlier told a very funny anecdote at that same session about having a very famous producer feign a heart attack during a recent pitch he'd done(his reaction - to persevere to the very end of the pitch, as the guy might think it got better, you never know).

I don't know if I'd be able to resist taking a peek if it were me, though. And I'd probably be paralysed with fear an unable to write for weeks upon seeing the first page of bile. God bless the internet. Luckily I've worked mostly in UK film, so my work is generally unmade and/or unseen. God bless the British Film Industry. So double kudos to Piers for putting up his recent short film Fatal online, for all to see and form an opinion upon. Go see it, and comment if you like, but try to be polite and constructive. Spewing forth rabid reviews online or in the pages of the RT does not necessarily equate to having discerning taste.

Delete As Applicable

2008-07-17T09:11:00.003+01:00

After having been working, then having my son's second birthday party, then being ill, then going to a screenwriting festival, being ill again, sleeping for an entire weekend to recover from said festival, then working again... this weekend just gone was my first chance to get a power unit for my PC. But I didn't.

This means I can't yet load up photos to do Jason's meme (I'm not sure of the verb here, does one 'do' a meme?) but I will in due time.

The reason for not fixing the computer, aside from sheer laziness, is that it's forcing me to fill lots of notebooks with longhand about my Red Planet entry TV series idea - character biogs, back-story, episode ideas, and so on. Despite a strong urge to do so, I can't fire up Final Draft and start typing a script. And because I don't trust my sense of discipline, I am holding off from fixing the computer for a bit to keep it that way.

This, if you don't recognise it, is part of Robert McKee's method. Predictably, McKee took a few verbal beatings in different sessions at the Screenwriters' Festival, but I like his book 'Story' - it has some useful practical advice, and it's clear and well-argued with good examples. I also loved the lampooning of some of his excesses in 'Adaptation' too. As, I'm pretty sure, did McKee himself.

I don't agree with anyone who says 'Don't read any of the screenwriting manuals'. Read them all: Vogler, Field, Parker, etc., etc. All of them. And ignore them all if you want, or ignore bits of them, and use other bits.

None of them holds a secret or formula, but I think a lot of (probably old school and self-taught) writers worry that youngsters are going to be unduly influenced by these texts, and write too predictably. But let me tell you this: if you read anything and take it all at face value and never question it - you will never be a good writer anyway. That's our job, isn't it? To question everything, to pull at the seams of the visible and obvious and discover what's hidden. Why should it be any different just because we're reading a book about screenwriting?

And anyone who thinks McKee offers easy options has not read his book. It proposes research, thorough, thorough research on all aspects of the world of your story, trying out various options and discarding them to insure you are not slipping into cliches. For a feature, I think he advises a minimum of four months amassing material before typing so much as a 'FADE IN'.

Whether this is a good idea or not is entirely up to you. But I always find my work is better the more prep I do, and the more notebooks I fill up beforehand. Of course, I'm planning out an 8 x 60 minute series and I only have two months. But that's deadlines for you.

It is possible to do too much research as well, I suppose: a whole room filled with books about Napoleon - that's just crazy/genius.

Thanks to Tony Jordan

2008-07-14T13:56:00.000+01:00

I am currently working on a TV drama series outline for the first time. I've done pretty much every other kind of spec work - sketches, shorts, features, radio plays, sit coms, 2 x 90-minute part TV serials - but I haven't before sat down and planned out characters and story for 6 or more hours of popular drama.

I've been putting it off, I suppose - I've got a folder full of ideas, but it never seemed worth doing before. Until Tony Jordan told me to.

No one, I calculated, was going to commission a series from me until I'd done more sketches, shorts, features, radio plays, sit coms, etc. So, I felt my time was probably better invested elsewhere. But Tony Jordan just might. I saw that gleam in his eye during Cheltenham - he is just about crazy wonderful enough to produce a drama series by a newcomer.

So, it's worth doing now. But it always was, I think. As an exercise, it is very challenging - I am planning enough material for 4 or 5 movies, and I can literally feel myself becoming a better writer as I work to craft it all into a satisfying whole. So: thank you Tony, for the inspiration.

At the launch (read all about it in Lord Arnopp's jolly good write up here), Mister Jordan said something along the lines of 'Not many people will have a spec TV series ready in a drawer'. Whereupon I saw a number of people in the audience, most of whom I knew, visibly suppressing the urge to thrust up their hand and say 'Me sir, me sir! I've got loads'. And as I've said, even I have a stack of ideas. So, the question was: what to pick?

In a quiet moment at the festival (yes - there were a few quiet moments, believe it or not!) I took out pad and pen and wrote down every one of my series ideas. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, the sore throat, or the alcohol poisoning, but they were all shit. I couldn't see the legs in any of 'em. So, I have gone with something completely new that occurred to me, bit by bit, in the days following the festival and that I've been developing since. A gamble? Yeah, but it's all a gamble anyway. And I think Tony would approve.

Besides, the Red Planet prize, as fun and important as it is, is only one target. Realistically, I have to be prepared that only the first ten pages will get read. But I will have a pilot and series breakdown to continue working on and refining. So everyone's a winner. Hooray and - if I might be so bold - marvellous!

Cheltenham Screenwriting Festival: Dont's and Don'ts

2008-07-09T06:42:00.003+01:00

Number 1: Don't lose your voice halfway through the proceedings. It makes networking more challenging.

Number 2: Don't neglect the unobvious activities available. Like playing croquet. I met just as many lovely people while playing croquet at the festival than I did at the specific networking events. Some would stop and look at the group of us with our mallets and say "Goodness, you're playing croquet", and friendship and career success would then swiftly ensue for all involved.

Number 3: Don't expect to be able to get a decent Martini within walking distance of the Golden Valley Roundabout in Cheltenham.

But that's enough negatives...

Hello there. It's taken me days to recover, but it was wonderful! Cheltenham 2008 is being covered on many many blogs, but I'll add my two-penneth here in overview, and then some anecdotes and notes over the next few posts. Some of the highlights for me were as follows:

* The Scribomeet Social on the first night. Thanks and kudos to Piers and Jason.

* The psychiatrist who interviewed Ronald Harwood and started one question with the statement (I paraphrase a little): "Screenwriters can be divided into those with mild Aspergers and those with dangerous Aspergers", which became a sort of catchphrase when I reported it back paraphrased (a lot) to various people who weren't at the session as "I'd like to ask the Oscar-winning screenwriter Ronald Harwood: why are you so mental?". Said shrink also told us that his wife had told him off for always watching (and I don't paraphrase at all) "those Nazi films".

* Stephen Woolley and Kevin Loader's informative session on producer/screenwriter working relations.

* Finding out that I fancy Kate Harwood, Head of Drama Series and Serials at the BBC, to a degree that makes me feel just a little bit ashamed. I don't know quite why.

* Witnessing Dan Turner lose his KFC virginity.

* Being sat behind Mike Leigh in one session, and realising he's soooo tiny, you could fit him in your pocket.

* Tony Jordan's wonderful stories - including a lot about playing solitaire when you're supposed to be writing, snot in computer keyboards, and being bored enough in his hotel room to watch "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang". And why not.

* Piers and I stealing the leftover biscuits from the Screen Agencies abandoned room, dispensing some (rather good) advice about screen agencies to someone who popped their head around the door, and finally escaping through the window.

* Jane Tranter bringing a tear to my eye by showing a BBC drama showreel that was so good it was emotional.

* Laura Mackie doing the same with judicious clips from shows like Cracker.

* Meeting TV's James Moran and then witnessing him, The Turner and The Arnopp create Horror sequel "The Exorcist - The Fifth". Coming to a cinema near you... well, one day. Maybe.

* Meeting so many wonderful people, some for the first time, and some for the first time since last year.

* The live pitching event, Croquet, Terry Pratchet, Nigel Planer, Marks and Gran (who were turning up for a day just as screenwriters wandering around, not even to be part of any particular session), The Birth of The Dark Arrow...

...I could go on and on. But I've leave it for another day. See you soon.

Job Done

2008-06-25T13:40:00.003+01:00

Well, I've completed work on the latest and last draft of the feature I was working on, and now it will go off to live a new life, maybe hitting a screen near you sometime in the future.

So I find myself back to hustling for a gig again. There's still a short project on the go, and a huge number of spec scripts, some completed, some works in progress, some just glints in my eye. It's a wonderfully liberating feeling to be able to work on whatever you like (albeit only with pencil and paper at the moment - Gah!) and I'm looking forward to networking my socks off at the Screenwriters' Festival Cheltenham, which is where I will be for the next few days. I'm hoping they have some PCs available there, so I can update the blog with a few up-to-the-minute entries, but - if not - I'll see you in just under a week.

Oh, and thanks to all who contacted me with hints and advice about fixing my PC - it was much appreciated.

The Machine Stops

2008-06-23T16:20:00.004+01:00

Gah! My home PC is dead. As a stone. Choir invisible. Lovely plumage the Norwegian Blue. Etc. Etc.

This leaves me in a horrible state of techno-angst. No Final Draft. No iPlayer. No podcasts. And all the screenwriting work I've ever done, I can't get at. I may have to revise my "backups are for wimps" policy. It now seems a bit macho to have been playing chicken with entropy.

It's probably just the power-unit going on the blink, but I am a hardware dunce and am not sure I want to risk someone as inept as me fitting a new one. And then it might not be the power unit. What if the hard drive is wiped? Gah!

I can update the blog from work, so expect more entries here until I get things fixed. This is my only portal left to the screenwriting world.

Actually, this gives me an idea for a story about over-reliance on technology, and the brave struggle of an inept character to live without the internet. But I'm going to have to write it in a pad. Like last century. Gah!

Yeah... No posts for ages... Again... I know... Sorry.

2008-06-19T17:39:00.006+01:00

The Screenwriters' Festival is fast approaching. I can't believe it's been a year since those dizzy, drizzly days of Cheltenham 2007. Jason Arnopp's post here has a photo from back then, which shows me talking to Piers Beckley with my wrist glued to my chin. Great times.

If you haven't got a ticket yet, I recommend it as a good opportunity to meet professionals and see some good sessions on the craft. It wasn't such a good environment last year for meeting producers or getting work, but all networking is good networking. Besides, it's improving with every year, so things might be different this time.

It's also - and this shouldn't be overlooked - a great jolly. Fantastic fun was had by all; even the runner employed on the first day to stand in front of the venue holding a sign about parking had a smile on her face. I said to her, 'Couldn't a Pole be doing your job' and she kicked me in the nuts thinking I was making a racist joke about globalisation of workforces.*

The best bit of it is, when you arrive, there will be a ready-made group of allies in the form of the Scribosphere Contingent. It even starts before the festival: see Jason's post that I linked to above for details of a meet up on the night before. I will definitely be there.

And if you see me around the festival, do please come and say hello - I'm looking forward to meeting lots of lovely new bloggers.

* Not true, of course. I actually said 'Is it this way to the festival?' It was then that she kicked me in the nuts.

Cyril Connolly... elaborate whistle... to fade

2008-06-04T22:28:00.004+01:00

Back again! The hobby that I do five days a week, 9 to 5, in that London is threatening to encroach on my screenwriting career once again.

If you want to know what my day job is like - you'd have to be pretty bored, but still - then read Phillip Barron's description of the perfect day job for a writer here: no computers, no long commute, don't take the work home - all that. Excellent advice. Now imagine the exact opposite of all that. That's what my
day job is like.

Of course, like many other writers now and through history, I need the money. When I used to work at Lloyds Bank years ago, I comforted myself that T S Eliot had done the same. But unlike him, I wasn't going to have Ezra Pound begging patrons to save me from my workaday strife, so my only option was to learn to like it.

And I find that the more I do like my day job, the better and more successful the writing is alongside. When I've been in dead end situations, I've generally reached a dead end with the writing too.

And whoever said "the pram in the hallway is the enemy of art" was wrong in my case too. Actually, it was Cyril Connolly. And I want to tell him, because it seems so obvious: try the garage or the porch if the hallway offends you, dummy.

No, having a child has also done nothing but inspire me to do better work. I recommend it fully: go procreate, it'll make your screenwriting better. See, you wouldn't get advice of that calibre at a Robert Mckee seminar.

Which is probably a good thing.

Work

2008-05-21T19:52:00.002+01:00

I'm still alive! Some people were emailing to check I hadn't shuffled off this mortal thingammybob, such is the gap between posts here. Apologies - I've become more busy not writing than I was when I was working on the feature.

This time it's the day job that's been taking all my time up; but I've also found time to apply to the BBC Writers' Academy, have a couple of good meetings about projects I'll post about soon, and seen Mike Leigh interviewed as part of the Brighton festival. More details of all this are imminent, and there'll definitely be a proper post at the weekend. Until then...

One Year On

2008-04-20T10:20:00.005+01:00

Just over a year ago, I went to a Writers' Guild event about blogging, and became a convert. Of the crop of blogs that rose up after that event, I'm only aware of Helen Smith's and mine that have survived - but please feel free to post a comment if you were there, and are still posting, I'd love to hear from you. Helen has written a lovely post about her blog birthday, and also a perceptive article for the Guild, which she links to from that page.

I agree with Helen: the best part of blogging is that it has allowed me to meet so many other writers. Not many producers, but a lot of writers; though, one producer who had got my name from Screen South, but had dismissed me as not mature enough for her project because she thought that 'new screenwriter' equated to 'fourteen years old', did give me an interview after seeing a picture on this blog of grizzled old me, with my baby son. I still didn't get the gig, though.

I'm only aware of that one direct job opportunity, but the indirect benefits are massive: the confidence boost of turning up to do some networking knowing there will be a friendly face or two in the crowd, should not be underestimated. The advanced warning of schemes, comps and events; the useful information of the craft expounded by other bloggers; the crystallising of thoughts on my own approach by posting about my own writing; the availability of a willing group of peer reviewers; all these are wonderful things. Praise be to the Blog! And happy birthday to this one.

It seems a good time to revisit the goals I set myself in April last year, and see how I've got on. Here goes:

1. Get into the imdb. Nope - still not there, but now that the sound issues with 'Lent' are dealt with, and hoping it gets some decent distribution, I should be able to get my name in there soon.

2. Get another of my short film scripts produced. A couple of possibilities are still ongoing.

3. Get an agent. Haven't even tried, to be honest. I'm hoping by building up a portfolio of scripts, and getting more commissioned and produced work, that I'll be in a stronger position to approach some agents later on.

4. Get an afternoon play commissioned for Radio 4.No commissions, but some good scripts written in the last year, and some possible leads with producers.

5. Apply to the BBC Writer’s Academy.Applied. Didn't get in. Applying again this year.

6. Write an episode of Doctors. Nope, though I am writing more one-off thirty minute dramas, to learn, and to use as examples of my work.

So, lots of work still to do. If only I'd added 'Get commissioned to write a feature script', I could have ticked one off. I shall add one to the list:

7. Get more commissions to write feature scripts.

And I'll report back on progress in another year's time*

* I will be posting in between then and now too, of course: I know that should be obvious, but my posting rate recently may have caused some to doubt it!!!

Stuff to Do

2008-04-18T21:29:00.004+01:00

Okay: I'm going to dizzy everyone now by doing two blog posts in a week, when it's lately taken me a month to get up to that count...

As you'll know, I've been working on the latest draft of my feature for Full On Films (probably, after Cannes, I will be able to talk about the content of the script a bit more, maybe even release the title - I'll have to check with the wonderful and redoutable producer-director of the project, Mark Jay). There's lots of support for the development, and lots of interest from potential partners in the production. And both Mark and I are very happy with the shape of draft 2. There's now a bit of down-time before Mark and I meet with a script executive appointed by Screen South and resume revisions. I've got lots of things planned for this time:

1) Book a ticket to the Screenwriters' Festival in Cheltenham - Hooray! Did this last night. I'll be one of the Travelodge posse for a second year running.

2) Apply to the Lighthouse/Skillset 'Guiding Lights' scheme. Boo! The initial commitment for this requires one to be in London on July 1st and 2nd. Unfortunately, those are the first two days of the Screenwriters' Festival (See point 1 above). It's frustrating that two big events and opportunities for writers are clashing, and if it weren't so close to the deadline (which is this coming Tuesday) I'd write an email to them pointing this out. As it is, it's too late. Good luck to anyone who's going for it. I will have to wait and hope that they run it again next year.

3) Apply to the BBC Writers' Academy. Oh Yes!

4) Review a contract. A very talented director with a production company wants to option one of my screenplays. Very excited. Keep everything crossed for me - I'll post more when there's more to post.

4) Resume work on the half hour screenplay that I'm working on with Lou Birks.

5) Resume some pieces of spec work - I've got a radio play that needs one more draft to polish, a short film that is still just a pile of notes and thoughts and needs to be flung hard at a piece of paper to see what sticks. Plus, a feature script I've used - quite sucessfully - as a calling-card, should really be made one of these days. I got some feedback reports on it last year, which I should use to do another draft.

6) Read people's blogs, post comments, send some emails: let people know I'm still alive.

That's quite a lot to be going on with, and I still have to post about last week's Q&A with Matthew Graham and Ashley Pharaoh, and do a little '1 year on' bit to celebrate reaching my first blog birthday. I better start work then...

To The Wire

2008-04-17T22:33:00.000+01:00

The deadline for draft 2 of my feature for Full On films was extended, hence the posting drought here in the last few days; this means the box set of series 2 of The Wire (which I pre-ordered as my celebration gift to myself for completion) was with me slightly early (though I did manage to squeeze one episode in late on Saturday - it really is that compulsive). I delivered last night at a few minutes to midnight. Still exhausted.

Will resume normal service soon. I have some notes from Monday's Q&A to type up, and it will time for my blog's 1st Birthday in a few days. But first, I'm gonna have a short rest. See you tomorrow.

Sound and Vision

2008-04-01T18:43:00.003+01:00

I am well and truly into the second draft of my feature for Full On, and should be finished by tomorrow. So, a bit too busy to do a proper blog post, but I wanted to shout out to anyone who's going to see and hear the mighty Matthew Graham and Ashley Pharoah - writers of Life on Mars, Ashes to Ashes, and lots of other things that aren't named after Bowie songs - talk at the Soho Theatre in a couple of weeks. If you are, I'll see you there!

Contractual Obligation Post...

2008-03-19T22:11:00.003Z

...to stop Piers and Jason from drive-by shooting my blog up anymore (see the comments to the last post, if you are confused):

I am well into draft 2 of my feature for Full On Pictures. We've had a lot of feedback now, mostly good, and all constructive. Producer-director Mark Jay is working with Screen South, who are supporting the development, to arrange a script executive to work closely with us. I'm busy making a better draft to go into that process.

Aside from this, I have been trying to catch up on some films and TV, so that I'm not quite so out of touch. I've slowly caught up with series 1 of The Wire, which is a masterful piece of work, which I heartily recommend to anyone. But, of course, everyone knows the Wire's great. If I can complete my second draft on schedule by the end of March, I think I'll get myself the box set of Series 2 (yes - it really is that compulsive.)

Juvenilia

2008-03-10T15:28:00.002Z

One of the best pieces of advice I’ve been given about screenwriting was when a writer on a panel, at some event or other many years ago, advised all the budding scribes in attendance to “go on an editing course”. It was such good advice that one day I’ll perhaps get round to doing it. For instead, you see, I thought “I won’t go on a course, I’ll actually edit something instead”. And I did.

I armed myself with a mini-DV home camcorder, and a copy of Adobe Premiere, and some like-minded friends, and over the course of five years or so, I proceeded to write, direct, edit, and (eep!) co-star in a series of shorts. Some were office-based things at my day job, which we’d then show at Christmas parties. Another was a ten-minuter that my wife and I made together, which was shown on a big screen at my wedding (I got married in a cinema – doesn’t everyone?!).

It was a great learning experience, and I recommend trying it. You learn all sorts of things about in and out points of scenes, structure, working to deadlines, seeing material enjoyed - or not – by an audience. Of course - as they were learning experiences - I would never dream of exhibiting them as examples of my work. That would be foolish.

This is where I wish, fleetingly, that I wrote novels: for film is a collaborative medium, and one of my collaborators – Andrew Hunt, also known as Uncle Hunty – has put some of them up on youtube in all their bad sound, wobbly cam, in-jokey glory. I’m not going to link to them from here, but a quick search should give you access if you’re interested / bored / masochistic. No apologies, and since they’re free – no refunds either.

Displaced Activities

2008-02-28T09:40:00.012Z

If you write films for a living, or if you aspire to, then how many hours of films should you be watching a week?

It's a question that I'm always asking myself, as I am a terrible procrastinator (well, actually, I'm a very good procrastinator - see, I'm even putting off the end of this sentence), and ploughing through a stack of DVDs is a good way of avoiding proper work. But it is nonetheless vital to be aware of new films, analyse their structure, read their screenplays, keep up to date with trends and commercial and critical performance, and so on.

I'm almost reluctant to tell you this, as it is so uncool, and because once upon a time I was Mister Cinema (it was a little embarrassing, I had to change it by deed poll in the end). I would have seen and had an opinion on every release within days of it opening, or I'd have seen it months before at some festival or other. But, since I became a rookie parent, I've found myself going to the flicks less and less. I'm on a six to twelve month delay on all new releases - that's how long before they filter through from my lovefilm.com list, and I finally find a moment to watch them. And I'm more than ever aware of this around the Oscars ceremony: five best film contenders - know of them all, read the reviews, seen their box office reported on in Screen International. Seen 'em? Nah.

But if I have spare time, I feel I ought to be using it for writing, and if the opportunity of a baby-sitter comes up, my wife objects if I suggest "ten films" as what we should do with our evening.

Should I worry? What's the right balance to have? I don't know, but I'm trying my best to find it. That's another reason why it was so nice to have attended the 'Look at Me' premiere this week. It was great to see a film in a darkened theatre, and it was not just any old film but the first produced work of fellow screenwriter/blogger, and my good mate, Jason Arnopp. Read all about it here (I'm the fellow with a beard and specs in the second picture down - fame at last!).

And if you come back here in six months time, I'll give you my views on which is better 'There will Be Blood' or 'No Country for Old Men'.

Hiatus

2008-02-21T14:30:00.001Z

Funny old time at the moment: everything has reached a natural pause after my completion of the first draft of the Full On Pictures feature earlier this year. We have received even more positive feedback from various readers, and are keeping our fingers crossed that we’ll hear back from a potential production partner in the next few weeks. Screen South, who are supporting the script development, are also organising a feedback report, and we’ll have a meeting with them soon. After that, I’m going to resume work with the second draft, but when exactly that will be is still up in the air.

So, I’m trying to fit in as much work on other projects into this downtime as I can, always aware that I might have to get stuck into a feature screenplay at any moment. I am continuing to push forward with two short projects that are in development. And, of course, there’s ‘Lent’, the digital short that I wrote which was produced last year. Had a conversation with the producer Ricci-Lee Berry yesterday, and we’ve been awarded some funding (yay!) but it won’t be enough to send our baby off to all the glitzy festivals we intended for it (boo!). We’ve got a lot of work to do getting it out there, and I'm sure I'll soon have some war stories from the crazy adventurous world of short film distribution to share with you. Watch this space.

Six degrees of Kevin Bacon. Mmm.. Bacon.

2008-01-30T12:00:00.000Z

Not much to post about currently. I'm just working away on various things: mapping out the storyline for the Lou Birks short; got a meeting about draft 2 of the feature this week with producer-director Mark Jay (Mark just had a sell-out Cineworld screening/Q&A of his film 'Dolphins', which he wrote and directed. Kudos to him!); and, another director wants to option one of my screenplays - fingers crossed for that.

Idle musings meanwhile: I caught up the other week with the Extras Christmas special from my newly-purchased replacement PVR, and noticed in the credits that the make-up and hair was done by the wonderful Lisa Cavalli-Green, who also worked in the same capacity on the short film what I wrote, 'Lent'.

This means, trivia fans, that I am only two degrees of separation from Ricky Gervais. And therefore three degrees of separation from anyone he's ever worked with in Celebrity 'I'm not like this really, or am I?' cameo-stylee. Imagine - me and Samuel L Jackson, we're like that. And David Tennant too. Ooh!

Now, if only there was some way to turn this to my advantage. But, dear reader, I fear there is not.

Scratch

2008-01-14T15:42:00.000Z

Writing is an odd profession/obsession, isn't it? I met with a director, the fabulous Lou Birks, last week to discuss a project we are developing together. It's a ten minute long dramatic short, which I've done three drafts of, over the last few months. And it's not quite working.

Lou and I discussed the issues we both had with how the short was shaping up. Luckily, we both had come to exactly the same conclusions. We decide not only shall I do a page one rewrite, but also that length might be counting against us. The material fits nicer within 30 minutes, rather than 10. More running time gives it a chance to breathe, the backstory can be delivered at a better pace that doesn't feel like overload, and the tension can really be ratcheted up.

And I leave the meeting really energised and happy. Despite the fact that I've just agreed to three times as much work, and I'm starting from scratch. There really is no business like this, is there?!

Obviously, my New Year's resolution is...

2008-01-08T14:55:00.000Z

... to not neglect my blog. Bad timing has resulted in intense periods of work (both writing and day job) interspersed with intense periods of Christmas holidays (where I had a much needed break), which have both combined to keep me from these pages. No more, dear reader (singular)... er, if you're still there. Hello!

Exciting developments have occurred in the first week of the year. My short film 'Lent', which has been in the can for some months, but needed a sound problem to be fixed, is finally on it's journey toward the screen. The producer, the wonderful Ricci-Lee Berry, is completing the distribution funding application for Screen South, and preparing the submissions to five international festivals to start with. I'm very excited, and hoping that we get into all of them!! Time will tell.

I've had a meeting in the last week about the feature project, with the director-producer Mark Jay of Full On Pictures. We discussed directions for the second draft. We're still awaiting feedback from the interested parties that were sent the script at the end of last year, but we weren't expecting much yet because of Christmas holidays. The responses that we have got are overwhelmingly positive, which is great, obviously. And Mark and I, having got some distance from the material after an intensive period of development, are still really loving this draft. More details on this anon.

Tonight, I have a meet with another director to discuss a new draft of a short screenplay we're working on, which we're hoping to be filming early this year. Again, I'll keep you posted.

It's great to be busy. Hope you are too. Happy New Year!

Where did that month go?!

2007-12-18T14:05:00.000Z

Never fear - I'm back in the blogosphere! I've completed all revisions to the the screenplay for Full On Pictures, and have moved house. It's been a tiring month. The script is currently with some trusted contacts of director-producer Mark Jay, and some potential backers. We're awaiting feedback, and I'm pretty excited about what the reaction will be. I think it's a great draft, and working with Mark was fantastic

Now, I'm trying to plan a family Christmas and squeeze in some other writing projects before embarking on draft 2. And there's the small matter of catching up with what the rest of the Scribosphere's been up to without me. I'm off to read some blogs. Will post again soon!

Update

2007-11-18T10:04:00.000Z

No posts for a while. Apologies - work on the feature screenplay for Full On Pictures has resumed. I'm working on the revisions to the first draft at the moment, and met with the producer Mark Jay mid-week. It was a great meeting: there's some strong interest from production companies, so Mark and I have a busy time of it over the next few weeks getting the screenplay as good as it can be, and then getting it out there.

Meanwhile, all the short films I'm working on are progressing nicely too. The director of 'Santa Baby', the wonderful Colin Stevens, has managed to get the script to an actor who would be perfect for the lead, and to his production company. Fingers crossed that he likes it.

And it looks like the sound problem in 'Lent' has finally been fixed, and over the next week or two, the producer Ricci-Lee Berry will be putting together our agreed distribution list for 2008, and applying for Film Council distribution funding. With luck, and selection, 'Lent' should be playing a festival near you very soon. I'll obviously keep the posted with any updates.

The Twenty Questions Meme

2007-11-08T14:11:00.001Z

Okay - this is obviously a displacement activity, but hey! - that's the name of the blog. Here goes:

1. Do you outline?
Almost always. I have been known to rush into a short film, not knowing where the journey will end up. But for anything longer I like to have a map, even if I decide to go off-road someway down the line. (I’m bailing out of the motoring analogy at this point.)

2. Do you write straight through a script, or do you sometimes tackle the scenes out of order?
I plough through roughly from start to finish – occasionally this entails leaving a scene and coming back to it later.

3. Do you prefer writing with a pen or using a computer?
Both. I spend a lot of my time in trains, and I like to work with pencil and paper when on the move. Then I get home and type it all up.

4. Do you prefer writing in first person or third?
I only work on screen/radio plays, so third person is a given. I wonder what the average script reader would make of a screenplay written in the first person. I’m almost tempted to try to write one. Almost.

5. Do you listen to music while you write?
Sometimes. Usually at the start of work when I’m trying to get to the right level of concentration. When I achieve the right level of concentration, I get irritated with the music, and switch it off.

6. How do you come up with the perfect names for your characters?
To quote the late, great Douglas Adams: “If you have trouble with character names, you’re probably using the wrong kind of coffee. Try an Italian blend.”

(I don’t really know what he was talking about either, to be honest.)

7. When you’re writing, do you ever imagine your script as a book/short story?
No. But I often imagine it as a movie. That’s been made. And won me an Oscar. You’ve got to get through the day somehow.

8. Have you ever had a character insist on doing something you really didn’t want him/her to do?
Occasionally things end up going a different way to how I expected, but it never feels like the character is gaining their own autonomy. I think that phenomenon’s a little bit of exaggerated mythologizing about the creative process.

9. Do you know how a script is going to end when you start it?
I refer the learned gentleman to the answers I gave to 1 and 8 above.

10. Where do you write?
On the commute to the day job, and at home.

11. What do you do when you get writer’s block?
Write. (Someone once said: Writer’s block is nature’s way of telling you you’re not a writer - a bit harsh, maybe, but I broadly agree with it.)

12. What size increments do you write in?
Size doesn’t matter. It’s what you do with it that counts. Ahem.

13. How many different drafts did you write for your last project?
My last short film went through seven drafts, and two further sets of revisions.

14. Have you ever changed a character’s name midway through a draft?
Yes.

15. Do you let anyone read your script while you’re working on it, or do you wait until you’ve completed a draft before letting someone else see it?
For a spec script, I’d finish up before I showed anyone. For a commission, I’d provide pages to my producer whenever I was asked.

16. What do you do to celebrate when you've finished a draft?
A glass of wine is customary.

17. One project at a time, or multiple projects at once?
I have lots of things on the go, but I can only sit down and do a draft of any one of them at any time, or I’d never get anything finished. (I’m a man, I can’t multitask, apparently.)

18. Do your scripts grow or shrink in revision?
Sometimes they grow, sometimes they shrink. But let’s not discount the possibility of a new draft being exactly the same length as the previous one too. It could happen!

19. Do you have any writing or critique partners?
Never worked with a co-writer. But there are a lot of great folks out there in the Scribosphere (hello!) who have reviewed my work in the past.

20. Do you prefer drafting or revising?
You've got to learn to love both, I think. But nothing beats the feeling of starting out on the first draft of a new project.

"You'll never look at a truncheon quite the same way again!"

2007-11-05T12:32:00.000Z

Event: "Imaginary Worlds"

Date: Thursday 1st November 2007

Venue: The Guild Centre, King's Cross (not in the usual large conference room, but in the smaller area normally used just for networking - sadly the event seemed a bit undersubscribed.)

The Set Up: Panellists were Phil Ford (PF) writer on The New Captain Scarlet and The Sarah Jane Adventures, Ashley Pharaoh (AP), co-creator and writer of Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes, Adrian Hodges (AH), co-creator and writer of Primeval, and Phillip Palmer (PP), author of SF novel Debatable Space. Questions came from Edel Brosnan (EB), Chair of the Guild's Editorial and Communications Committee.

The Questions, The Answers:

Q. What was it that drew you to the 'imaginative' in your work?
PF: Simply, it's what I always wanted to do. I'd always read science fiction, and always loved the movies. It's great to create a fascinating new world, where you can turn things on their head; as long as you ground things - it has to be about people and relationships. If anything can happen, it doesn't make for good drama.
AP: I fell into it, really, via the premise to Life on Mars. I'm a recent convert, but really really enjoying it.
PP: I've never had a plan - every plan I've ever had has ended in disaster. When I wrote for TV, I went with what was there, which was shows like The Bill. Nick Elliott, ITV drama controller, once told me "We don't make science fiction, we don't like science fiction", so I never tried to pitch those projects in TV. I had a movie that didn't work out, but I rewrote it as a novel, and ended up with a three-book deal.
AH: I'm not so much a fan of science fiction, as I am a fan of a good story. I remember seeing a BBC drama in the early 80's,The Flipside of Dominick Hide, and thinking it was a love story, but told in a wonderfully fresh way. The same was true of Alien, which was at heart a thriller, and so on.

Q. Now that the genre has been revitalised, thanks to shows like Doctor Who and Life on Mars, do you see things going to back to how they were? Is this a fad, or is it here to stay?
AH: I don't think we can go backwards now - the audience has been awakened. Shows will only do well, though, if they're character driven.
PF: It's about stories, and it's about people. It's a shame that commissioning execs didn't realise this - they just hid behind the excuse that SF was too expensive.
AH: It's not a genre that's ever been considered posh.
PF: You can do these stories without many or any special effects.
AH: But technology has played it's part.

(The panel took a few minutes here to recommend a 90's SF serial from ITV, The Last Train - written by Ashley's sometime creative collaborator Matthew Graham - which used very few special effects. The consensus was that it really should have got a second series, and if you get a chance to watch it, do.)

Q. Are writers outside of the genre resistant to it?
AP: A prominent writer criticised Life on Mars in a newspaper, and I responded to that criticism. He thought that the point of writing was social realism, or social upheaval, making changes. But we've had fifty years of that.
AH: There are writers, and commissioning execs that are resisting, but it's always been that way. If you look at Nigel Kneale, he always occupied an odd place - it's always been an uneasy thing. Perhaps it always will be.
PP: There's a quality of imitation in British TV -
AH: Not just British TV.
PP: Just repeating things that have been successful. One detective drama is good, but by the time you've got wall-to-wall detective dramas, you just want to scream. The challenge is getting some variety in there.

Q. How are things different when writing novels?
PP: It's different from TV where fantasy /sci-fi is still something of a dirty word.

Q: All of the shows that you do are different - how would you define the genre?
AP: Anything that isn't social realism. Anything where you get a heightened response from the audience. I've never written a show before that had fan websites. Or where fans have been writing slash fiction. (Another pause here while slash fiction was explained to the uninitiated in the audience - see the wikipedia entry for a full definition.) After reading some Life on Mars slash fiction, you'll never look at a truncheon quite the same way again!
AH: I wouldn't dream of defining the genre, but the level of engagement, to praise or to criticise, is huge. It's a great thing to see.

Q: Phil, you've worked on Torchwood, and the Sarah Jane Adventures. Is there a different approach for pre- versus post-watershed SF drama?
PF: I think you instinctively know which sort of stories are suitable for which. It certainly didn't worry me going into it. With kids shows, you've got to be careful. You can frighten kids; it's exactly what they did in Fairy Tales, but you mustn't terrify them. That's the line you don't cross. And it's always possible to get it wrong - one of the episodes of Captain Scarlet I wrote was deemed too extreme, and was never made.

Q: Adrian, as well as your SF work in Primeval, you have done a lot of historical dramas, for example Charles II, The Pride and the Passion. Are there similarities in approach between the two?
AH: Someone clever once said: ”You can’t reproduce the past, you can only reinvent it.” A realistic portrayal of Charles the Second’s time would be truly alien, and wouldn’t be understandable by a modern audience. So, you’re dealing with a reinvented world. These genres aren’t as far apart as they’re perceived to be, just different ways of telling a story.

The clips & the reading:

Ashley Pharaoh showed a clip from Life on Mars, Series 1, Episode 4: Sam Tyler has a girl in his care: she spikes his drink, seduces him, and leaves him chained to his bed with a pair of Police handcuffs. Gene Hunt finds him the next morning, much to the hilarity of the rest of station.

AP: Everything in that clip stems from the original premise (a 21st century cop trapped in 1973) and I loved writing it. Not to be too pretentious or anything, but it’s closer to poetry when you get it right. But it took seven years of pitching to get it to screen, and that was a very painful process. I explained to one exec that it may all be in the central character’s head, or he may really be back in time. He said: “But that’s ambiguous”. “Well….yeah!”. People didn’t get it. In fact, we were told many times “Don’t do it – careers will end if you do this.” But John Yorke developed it with us, first at Channel 4, where it almost got green-lit, and then at the BBC. If you wait long enough, things will change – Doctor Who came along, and Lost, and that paved the way. I think we only got through the dark times because there were three of us - just when one person’s enthusiasm was flagging, the other two would remind him what was exciting about the project.

Q. What about the planned American remake of Life on Mars, by David E Kelly?
AP: They need a show to provide 60 episodes in America. You can’t keep a mystery of whether someone’s in a coma going for that length of time, so they’ve dropped the metaphysical aspect, and ramped up the comedy in its place. I don’t know if it’ll work. It shows that there is a strength to having short runs of shows, as we do here, as it allows you to tell more intense stories.

Phil Ford showed a clip from The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Eye of the Gorgon. Maria’s Dad has been turned to stone, and his estranged wife – thinking this is a statue of her ex – tells him what she really feels for him.

PF: This is what I meant by grounding SF in reality, here the reality of Maria and her family. In fact this was the first scene to be written – I knew in a gorgon story that someone was going to get turned to stone, and that someone would mistake them for a statue. The rest of the story flowed from there. It gave us a nice opportunity to find out how a character ticks – a nice emotional scene in an action-packed story.

Phillip Palmer read from Debatable Space. A very funny excerpt where the hero Lena, a 900 year old woman who was born in our time, has been kidnapped, and is being held by flame-beasts – highly intelligent creatures composed entirely of flame. She ponders her predicament, and some of the changes she’s seen in her long lifetime.

PP: That’s from the other end of the scale – the furthest extreme, space opera.

Audience Questions:

Q. How much do you think about budget?
PF: I don’t think about it all for the first draft. I let other people tell me afterwards if things can’t be achieved.
AH: It’s best not to self-censor. And the costs of CGI, for example, change all the time – you don’t know what you can or can’t afford. A herd of rampaging velociraptors might be achievable where two men talking in a car might be expensive!

Q. How difficult is it to pitch hard SF?
AH: It is harder. A show like Heroes plays on ABC and gets loads of viewers. Battlestar Galactica plays on the sci-fi channel and gets much less.
PP: On TV, SF has to come packaged with another genre.
PF: Yeah. IF you remember, the first season of Doctor Who was almost as much soap as sci-fi. Over the years, the sci-fi elements have built up – it’s the Trojan Horse approach.

Q. How easy is it to find an agent as a screenwriter specialising in fantasy?
AH: Don’t use the word fantasy if you’re worried.
EB: People want to see good writing, irrespective of genre.

Q. American SF was huge for years – what are the differences.
AH: Budget.
EB: There aren’t so many differences. The US loves Brit sci-fi – Heroes, all Joss Whedon’s work, Alan Moore.
AP: George Lucas is looking for British writers to work on the Star Wars TV series

And just to round off the evening with an exclusive, Ashley proceeded to tell us of two particular writers who have been invited to the Skywalker ranch for discussions about this. I’ve omitted their names as I don’t think it’s public knowledge yet!

Value for Money?: Guild events are always good value for money. Join the Guild! As usual, the event was followed by networking with wine and nibbles provided. All the panellists stuck around to talk. But the best part of this was that - having been to enough recent talks about pushing forward one's career - this was simply about celebrating good writing and good writers.

The Lame Meme (and info about Pilot)

2007-11-04T08:57:00.000Z

A meme is doing the rounds, and Blogful Martin has passed it on to me. Five things that I like that other people might find lame:

Strictly Come Dancing. I am addicted, and have been for the last three years.
Teen comedies of the Eighties. John Hughes rocks.
Crying at movies / TV. I am a sentimental, soppy sod. To my shame, At the recent Guild sci-fi event, a clip of the Sarah Jane Adventures (an emotional clip, okay?!) was shown, and I was holding back the floods so as not to embarrass myself in front of a group of strangers.
Heartbeat. I would love to write for it. It's great entertainment and perfectly pitched at its audience. And it's back next week.
I'm so lame, I can't think of a fifth one.

NOTE: tucked away in the comments of my last blog posting, Phill Barron has brought up a point I'd also recently heard about the Channel 4 Pilot scheme - it doesn't pay very much. The payment for the eight-week training period is £100 per week, and accommmodation expenses are not claimable.

This is good for me, as it decides whether I'm going to enter something or not. I'm not - I can't afford to. And I didn't really have time anyway. Onward and upward...

The First Draft is done!

2007-11-03T09:26:00.000Z

A mad week. On Halloween night I was working right up to the wire on the screenplay, and finally e-mailed it to Mark at 11:55pm. He's on the West coast of the US, though, so he got it a few hours ahead of the deadline! I'm pretty pleased with it, and looking forward to Mark's notes.

I also went to two events at the Writers' Guild, which I'll write up in due course. After each one there were major train problems so I didn't get home until gone midnight both times. Then I was up at Six to get to the day job, where I've had two projects coming up to deadlines too. I've been running on empty for days now, and have spent most of today sleeping.

Now, I've got a very short hiatus before resuming work on the feature, where I can think about putting something together for the Channel 4 pilot scheme, if I can find the energy!

The sod's law of deadlines...

2007-10-28T14:42:00.001Z

...dictates that one's keyboard and printer will break on the same day, when one is quite pushed to have a script delivered by October 31st.

I missed out on a few hours of weekend writing time yesterday going into Brighton to replace them both. Given that surely no one, unless it's a dire emergency like this, would go to a High Street store to buy these things anymore, I expected Dixons to be empty.(I know it's not called Dixons anymore, but Currys Digital is up there with Starburst and Snickers in my list of stupid replacement names that I'll stubbornly never use.)

I expected wrong - it was packed, and miserable. And they had no keyboards, except in expensive wireless keyboard and mouse boxed sets. So, I had to go to Argos, which was even more packed and miserable. Argos now seems to have dispensed with staff behind tills, as you have to type in your code number and stick your credit card in the slot yourself. The only humans employed are those schlepping out your purchase at the end, and I'm sure they're working on a robot that'll perform this function in future. Ghastly.

Anyway, I now have a shiny new printer, and a keyboard where some keys are in ever-so-slightly different places to where I'm used to. But I'm not letting it slow me down - the first pass of my feature is done, and I'm now amending, trimming and improving before Wednesday. Latest pages have included the words gob, Catholic, and greenhouse.

On the iPod today: the new Pet Shop Boys long-player, Disco 4, with remixes of their own work, plus remixes of songs by icons: Bowie, Yoko Ono, Madonna... and, er, Atomiser, who must have won some sort of competition, I guess.

I can finally talk about it

2007-10-21T16:21:00.000+01:00

I am officially a professional feature film writer! After a few weeks of meetings, negotiations, and intensive writing, I finally signed the contract yesterday. I’m working with producer/director Mark Jay of Full On Pictures, with some development support from Screen South. Thanks - and another beer onto the massive tab I already owe her - to Miranda Robinson, who initially put Mark in touch with me.

The project is a 1970s based coming-of-age story, and is proving to be a joy to write, and Mark a joy to work with. In fact, the only difficulty so far was finding someone in Brighton’s Jubilee library yesterday to witness the signing. We needed a person not known to either of us, and Mark’s lawyer advised trying the library; but, most of the staff there looked at us like we wanted their John Hancock on some kind of devil/soul-extraction type agreement.

Mark had to be on a plane to the U.S. mere hours after this, and I didn’t want to delay any longer either ‘cos I’ve been bursting to post about it for weeks. What would happen if we couldn’t get anyone to sign? Can I get a witness?! Luckily, the fourth or fifth person we asked agreed: we promised the library a copy of the eventual DVD as a thank-you!

As I said, Mark is now off to the States to pitch this project, and I have to have the first draft completed by October 31st before the AFM. The day job is horribly hectic, though, and can’t give me any time off. So, I am working every minute of every day, and haven’t got time to swing a cat (which as anyone who’s tried it will know takes quite a long time – you’ve got to find a pet shop that doesn’t ask questions, and all sorts).

At the time of writing, I’m up to page 85 of a 95-minute script, and today’s pages have included the words “applause”, “prison”, and “falafels”. Woo - and after having given it a certain amount of calm reflection – hoo!

On the IPod today: podcasts of Radio 4 shows. Hooray! Never normally being in a room with a radio at the right time, these new podcasts are a positive boon. And, after only a few days, I’m already addicted to The Archers. You can also get Start The Week, highlights of The Today Programme, The News Quiz… As soon as the Afternoon play is available, my listening will be complete.

And another one

2007-10-13T09:43:00.000+01:00

Another great-sounding event at the Guild. I'm going to this one too - let me know if I'll run into you there. Blurb below:

The Writers’ Guild presents Imaginary Worlds on Thursday 1st November from 7pm – 8:30pm at the Writers Guild Centre, 17 Britannia Street, London WC1X 9JN (Nearest tube: King’s Cross).

Celebrate the recent resurgence in British science fiction and fantasy, by talking to the writers behind the boom.

Britain's other great literary tradition has always been a hit with the public - from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and Arthur Conan Doyle's Lost World, 20th. Century classics by John Wyndham, H.G. Wells and Nigel Kneale, to the recent boom in graphic novels and even more recent box office successes such as Dog Soldiers and 28 Days Later.

Critics and cultural commentators have finally realised what writers, readers and audiences have known for years - that fantasy writing can - and does - tackle adult themes in a unique and exciting way, and that imaginary worlds are not just for children.

Panellists include: Guild members Ashley Pharaoh, one of the creators of Life on Mars, Adrian Hodges, a co-creator of Primeval and Phillip Palmer, author of Debatable Spaces.

The discussion will be chaired by Edel Brosnan, Chair of the Editorial and Communications Committee.

To book for this event, please post a cheque to: Imaginary Worlds, Writers’ Guild, 15-17, Britannia Street, London WC1 X 9JN. Please make the cheque payable to: “Writers’ Guild of Great Britain”. Tickets cost £5 for Guild members and £7.50 for non members.

Opportunities

2007-10-06T12:46:00.000+01:00

Still very busy, still don't want to post about it until contract negotiations are officially complete, but it's going very well. Meanwhile, here are some events and schemes that you may or may not have heard about:

Firstly, 4Talent are running a scheme where new writers can apply with a pilot for a 6 x 23-minute episode series. Thanks to both Lianne and William Gallagher for independently pointing me in the direction of this one. Deadline is 23rd November.

The UK Film Council has changed its rules allowing first-time writers to apply directly to them for development funding. A good write-up on the Guild website, or on Piers' blog here.

Finally, The Writer's Guild are having another 'Meet the Agents' event. The last one was over-subscribed, so I'd get in early. I'm going if I can get a ticket, so I might just see you there. Usual Guild event rates: £5 for members, £7.50 otherwise. It's on Monday 29th October.

On the IPod today: The Killers' "Sam's Town", which I thought was a bit 'meh' when it came out - crikey - it must be about a year ago now; but revisiting it, converting it into mp3 format, and carting it around with me, I've come to appreciate it a lot more.

I'm back!

2007-09-30T16:52:00.000+01:00

...from my hols (which were great!) and I still can't talk about my new project. Sorry to be a tease. Some will know that I came very close a couple of months ago to securing paid work on an interesting feature, but in the end it wasn't to be. Or at least it wasn't to be, yet... I still hold out hope it will happen one day. So, I don't want to be premature.

Buuuut.. I'm looking at a contract now, and the project is very very cool. So fingers crossed. I hope very soon to be able to post some more info.

On the iPod today: Sex Pistols, to fire me up for the start of work again.

See you in October!

2007-09-18T10:18:00.000+01:00

Never mind the "Man Flu" that seems to periodically blight the scribosphere, the Perry clan has been laid low with viral Gastric Flu over the last few days, and it ain't pretty. We're all just trying to get better in time for our holiday starting on Friday.

For a week, the family and I will be relaxing in a timber lodge in the middle of a forest, enjoying the mists and mellow fruitfulness (and, no doubt, driving rain) of Autumn. I'm taking pens and pencils and working a little, if I get the chance, on a top-secret new project. I'm not going to post details about it until I get back, when hopefully things will have been signed, and ink will have dried. Watch this space.

On the iPod: Dusty in Memphis; quite soothing when you're not feeling well.

Digital Shorts – Part 4: Shooting

2007-09-07T19:03:00.000+01:00

I can hardly believe that the last instalment of my Digital Shorts diaries was posted in July. Where has all of the year gone?! Anyway, as the Digital Shorts scheme is now taking submissions for 2007/08 in all regions, it’s probably about time for this fourth instalment. I left off in January of this year: we had a locked script of my short ‘Lent’, and a provisional shoot date in February.

January 2007: This is the period where I, as the writer, had less to do than the other members of the team; but I was keeping my hand in too. The director, James, was auditioning to cast the two characters: a seven-year-old girl, Jessica, and her Mum, Diane. Meanwhile, the producer, Ricci-Lee, was putting together a fantastic crew, pretty much all of whom worked for expenses. I don’t like the idea of people not getting paid for their skilled work; but, this was a micro-budget short, and I wasn’t paid either, so it seemed fair! And we got a lot on screen for our no-money. For example, we got free use of crane and an experienced grip on two major set-ups in exchange for employing a trainee, the grip’s son, for the rest of the shoot. He was excellent too, and has a shining career ahead of him, I’m sure. Putting together deals like this is an art, and something I’d be frustrated doing (I’d rather be writing), so I am eternally grateful to Ricci-Lee.

There were some minor script changes early in the month (did I say locked script in my opening paragraph? Ha! No such thing, until you’ve finished editing, and even after that…). The final draft was turned into a shooting script (numbered scenes, and tracking of any revisions that happen from then on), storyboards (they were nothing like the ones I’d prepared when getting the funding – no stickmen!), and a shooting schedule (the scenes, by number, broken down in the order of shooting, usually by location, but also considering actor availability). This is a fascinating process to have happen to one’s script, shining a light on decisions the writer may have made at the flick of a pen, or click of a mouse.

For instance, as I said earlier, I blithely wrote a seven-year-old girl as a main character. So, immediately I was opening up a can of child labour regulation-shaped worms. Our shooting schedule needed to be drafted accordingly, to insure the young actress did not work beyond the legislated limits, and we needed to get a permit from the local council. A lot more work than if I’d rewritten her as an adult, or got rid of the character altogether (as things were, the age and the character were essential to the script). So, should I consider any of these practicalities at the writing stage? The quick answer is: of course not. Don‘t deprive yourself of any imaginative riches, just for the sake of logistics. But as you draft and redraft, and as you are more aware of what budget you have to play with, you will come across limitations, and limitations can make you even more creative, in ways you might not have imagined.

I think what I’m saying here is: make films, if you can. It will help your writing. And the results never need be shown to anyone. I made about ten mini-DV no-budget masterpieces of various durations, with borrowed camcorders, before ‘Lent’ was green-lit. They were never intended for distribution, although some may have found their way on to YouTube (if you see one, please be forgiving, I was finding my way). They were a learning experience better than any screenwriting course.

Through this period we had to submit various deliverables (final script, storyboards, etc.) to Screen South and the UKFC in order to unlock successive portions of the budget. They don’t give you all of the money up front, probably in case you go crazy and spend it all on sweets or magic beans.

3rd February 2007: The shoot occurred over the course of one, long Saturday in February. We’d found our location – a suburban house and garden – near Pinewood Studios. I had no real job to do on location, everything had already been done. But I attended anyway to see what it was like, and whether there was anything I could learn. It was a great day, apart from the jaded cabbie (see here), and the horrible tedium for a writer of long swathes of filming (every writer always bangs on about filming being dull, and I never believed them, but it’s true). And the crew were fantastic. I hope to work with all of them again.

Another ‘be careful what you write’ moment to report: when I envisaged a drama that included a teetering stack of pancakes, I didn’t think too long about the poor soul who was going to have to fry up each and every one. Out of guilt, I assisted the runner who had this thankless job. I suggested she and I had an additional credit: ‘Pancake Wrangler #1 & #2’. It was vetoed, alas.

And one more lesson that I can pass on: if you’re location scouting for a suburban house to film in, try to get one with a toilet on both floors. If you’re downstairs trying to be quiet, but bursting for the loo, it’s no good if the only toilet is occupied by a camera team filming actors on the upstairs landing. In the end, dear reader, I popped to the nearby pub.

February - March 2007: Post production ensues. I periodically log on with a password to view each new cut online (ain’t technology wonderful) or receive rough cuts on DVD, then e-mail back my suggestions. A composer puts a very delicate piano score on, and some whizzy guys put together the sound design: never have the sounds of a kitchen been so weird and threatening. At the end of March, the final deliverable - our completed film - is sent to Screen South and the UKFC.

We were done. We were only just beginning...

Links to previous episodes:

Part 1: Submission

Part 2: Selection

Part 3: Script Development

Passion and Practicalities

2007-09-05T14:51:00.001+01:00

On Lucy's blog, the fascinating comments thread concerning the responsibilities of writers continues to grow. My feeling is that one can write anything as long as it is, at heart, truthful. But where does the audience come into this? Do they have the final vote (with their feet)? Or, is it a cop out to say "people want to see it" as a defence for dodgy material?

The point where, say, a film about misogynist characters becomes a misogynist film is something we have to be aware of, but I think we must always be wary of slipping into self-censorship.

Connected to this area, I found - courtesy of Tom Green's Guild Blog - Matthew Graham's passionate rebuttal of Mark Lawson's claims that he, and the other 'Life on Mars' writers, had exercised self-censorship in Gene Hunt's dialogue. It's well worth a read: here.

On the iPod today: The Beatles White album. Double albums seem to be the perfect length for my commute to the Day Job, and there's something to be said for walking through Canary Wharf with the mad tape-loop hell of Reveloution #9 erupting in your head.

And onward...

2007-09-03T11:12:00.000+01:00

Rejections this last week from the TAPS showcase, and Kaos films.

But in the other column, I have a meeting planned with a producer who likes my material and is looking for someone to develop a coming-of-age feature screenplay. (He had particularly nice things to say about 'Normal', which was a good confidence booster as it's my submission to the Red Planet competition.)

Also, 'Santa Baby', a short screenplay I'm working on with a director, may have attracted the interest of a producer. Keep everything crossed for me. Ta.

Meanwhile, it is - somehow - September already, and I have passed the point at which I could retire with honour from the challenge to write a period feature in two months. Gulp! So, I'm madly doing lots of web-based research into turn-of-the-last century stuff to find my way into my central character's head.

Additional: For my recent birthday, my wife has brought me screaming into the early 21st Century with the gift of my first iPod. I have resisted downloading for years, hanging onto my CDs like the curmudgeonly oldster I am. But space became a premium sometime last year at around the time my son was born, so I'm giving in and going virtual. Currently listening to the Happy Mondays' new long-player, 'Uncle Disfunktional'. It is exactly as you'd expect it be, only a little bit better.

Cubed

2007-08-30T12:42:00.000+01:00

The Red Planet script I recently submitted was my first that utilised the ‘Power of Three’ peer review method, or at least a Chinese Whispers passed-down version of it. The experience was useful, but flawed. (This may be because I was using a Chinese Whispers passed-down version of it, having never attended Adrian Mead’s celebrated seminars where he expounds upon it properly).

Yesterday, I was musing about posting sometime soon about my experiences, as it may help someone learn from my mistakes (e.g. don’t use a Chinese Whispers passed-down version of it, you idiot!). Then, I read English Dave’s amusing recent post lambasting the whole process, even down to its name! So, it seemed timely to get my thoughts out there. And they are here:

In Robert McKee’s infamous tome, 'Story', he talks about pitching your script to someone, and watching their reactions: when are you losing them, when are they looking confused, excited etc.? This is a very useful thing to do for testing a pitch, and for testing the quality of your story. But, for a spec script, it’s all about how it reads, and – as anyone who follows Lucy Vee’s blog, will know – that read can go well or go badly, and this will often have nothing to do with the quality of your underlying story. So, what’s to do?

Amusingly, McKee tells us that the best reaction we could hope for is a hushed silence at the end of our pitch, as the pitchee takes in the God-like genius of our work. Anyone who has ever asked for peer review will know: this never happens. Never. (Or, at least, not to my scripts; and I suspect I am a God-like genius.) The reason for this is that, if you ask people what they think, they want to give you value. And blanket praise seems a bit empty; except to your Mum, maybe. (Your Mum – not mine: she’d give the late Alexander Walker a run for his money.)

Everyone thinks they’re a critic. And everyone is, of course, exactly right. So, who should review your work before you send it to the important someone who might want to make it?

You. You’re best placed to get this script right, but you’re biased. The only real way I’ve ever found to get the right objectivity is to leave a script in a drawer for a lengthy period. By then, though, that important competition deadline will probably have passed. Plus, there’s a lot of dick-swinging that goes on about rewriting. Yes, it’s important never to send out first drafts. But whenever I hear “I never show anything to anyone until I’ve done at least twenty drafts", I always think “What - no one?” All scripts are made for collaborative media, after all, or else you wouldn’t need a script; so, there’s something amiss to me in writing something so hermetically. But then, I’m not a rich, world-famous writer, so don’t take my advice.
Punters. There’s no shortage of them - we are all punters of TV and film, and we are all knowledgeable about what works and what doesn’t. But, unless you’re prepared to hand out scripts on the street, you’re going to have to know the person first. And that brings the problem of familiarity.
Friends and family with no screenwriting knowledge. Let’s face it - they’re probably going to be too easy on you, or too hard on you. The balance is hard to find, but not impossible.
Script reading services. Prohibitively expensive if you’re going to use them for every single draft of every piece of work you do. And readers employed by these services have their prejudices too. And it’s probably best to get more than one set of coverage on a screenplay to get a wider idea of its merits.
A screenwriters’ group of your peers. Screenwriters’ groups have two purposes: 1) to help people’s work become better with assistance and critique, and 2) to act as a friendly support group for aspiring/desperate writers. These two aims can end up being contradictory, and you often find ‘rules’ like “you must always start on something complimentary”. Which is no help to the writer if it’s a lie. You might find yourself in the position – as I have been – where you really want to say “This script has absolutely no redeeming features, and you should give up on it now”. But you keep quiet, and try to say bland things about what needs to be developed. Then, in the next session, it’s your turn and no one holds back. They tell you your latest opus is rubbish, and you’re wasting your time. You get upset. You leave the group never to return. True story. Ish.
Professional writers, producers or mentors higher up the chain that you. It’s hard to find someone who believes in you, and has the time enough to give feedback more than once in a while. I have been lucky enough to find more than one professional person who has offered to read my work on occasion, and has even tried to get it to people who might want to make it. Nothing’s come of these efforts, so far, but those contacts are there for ever (I hope). Whether they would still be speaking to me if I sent them scripts on a regular basis, though, is unlikely.
A virtual screenwriter’s group (i.e. your peers in the blogosphere). Similar issues to the screenwriter’s groups, but people find themselves able to be more honest in print, I think. And, there is the possibility that you might make contacts here that are in the process of becoming professional writers / producers / mentors, and will review and champion your work because they remember when you were very complimentary about them on their blog. (Everybody go to English Dave’s and say nice things. He might offer to read your work!)

As for the Power of Three method: I think it has many advantages, and specifically addresses some of the drawbacks I’ve mentioned above. The idea is to have three rounds of review, with three different people each time: 3 x 3. Hence the name – it’s got nothing to do with empowerment. It’s got nothing to do with the power of three, either, but it’s only a name, and it would be hard to sell a review method where you have to find 27 people to comment on your script.

The main drawbacks I found were mostly of my making: I’d missed the rule about only getting questions back from the reviewers, not comments or suggestions. Even if I had known, it’s hard to stop fellow writers making suggestions, so you need to be aware of it, and as disciplined as you need to be. A very wonderful, and much appreciated, PO3er gave me the note “I’d like to see more of the mother”. There’s not a lot I can do with that, unless I interpret it as “Where does the mother disappear off to?” But that might not be what he meant exactly.

Also, I hate the unbearable feeling of a being a clod. I get loads of notes in the first round saying “use less adverbs” and I always feel like I should have spotted that myself. Why do I use too many adverbs? I always do it. It’s my first draft sin (alright, one of them). Still, it’s cheaper for this to be pointed out by a scribo-mate than a professional script reading service.

I was unlucky with not getting stuff back in a timely fashion, and this seriously limited the time I had for my third round. I think it was my mistake for using this method for Red Planet. It’s a free competition, so obviously all my reviewers were working on their own entries, and I don’t want to be interrupting their script every five minutes to remind them to do feedback on mine.

Lastly, people sometimes argue. It didn’t happen to me, but I’ve heard tell of writer’s sending email after email explaining the intricacies of the screenplay that the reviewer has missed. You may even be tempted to reply clarifying something yourself. Don't. No one will thank you for it.

One final word about peer review: find a jaded cabbie.

I took a cab to the shoot of ‘Lent’ - a big deal for me, the first ever time a screenplay of mine was being professionally made. We were shooting near Pinewood (not actually in it, though - so near but so far) , so the driver had welcomed many film types into the back of his taxi over the years. He insisted that I pitch him the story while we drove, and I gave it my all. I'd been working on it solidly, and knew it inside out, and I swear it was the best I've ever told it.

I finished, dramatically, just as we were pulling up to the house where we were shooting. There was the crew, there were the vans, there was the camera. Best of all, there was the crane they'd just used for the opening shot. It looked very impressive, and I swelled with pride. The cabbie ruminated on my pitch for a second, then gestured towards the house, crew, crane, and camera, and said "This seems like a lot of old fuss, just for that." That's the last time I'm pompous enough to swell with pride, I can tell you. Welcome to the movies!

Links:

I’ve always wanted to put links at the bottom of a post, and feel like a big shot. So here they are. Hope they’re useful.

Adrian’s official, non-Chinese Whispers handout on Power of Three posted on Lucy’s blog

One of the reputable script reading services recommended therein!

English Dave’s recent post on Power of Three, and the informative comments made in reaction to it

David Bishop’s thoughts

An interview with Adrian Mead (Shooting People members only)

Robert Mckee’s Story Seminars

Can't think of a witty title about Red Planets to go here...

2007-08-29T10:25:00.000+01:00

I have finally finished and sent off my entry to the Red Planet competition. Thank you to everybody that reviewed it for my Power of Three: you were all incredibly helpful. Cheers! Keep everything crossed for me (and yourself, because I assume almost everyone reading this will have submitted, or will be submitting, something too).

No time to rest: I'm - still - putting the finishing touches to my radio play 'Lollipops and Samaritans', and have another draft of a short film to do at the weekend. Then there's the small matter of researching and writing a period feature by the end of October. Phew!

Everything's Gone Green

2007-08-22T19:22:00.000+01:00

I've moved to a new colour template, so this place doesn't look identical to James Moran's wonderful blog.