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

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

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)

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...

The Machine Stops

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!

Early Adopters, and Other Animals

Tom Smith, who talked passionately at the Website event on Thursday (see below), has graciously taken it upon himself, further demonstrating the possibilities out there in blogland, to create an instant online community for the writers who attended. Converts have been emailing him the details of their new blogs, and he’s adding them to a links page, here: uncrushed diaries.

His email revealed that I was one of the first five to contact him, and he dubbed me an “early adopter”. I’d love that to be true, but I could have been here so much earlier. In 2004, I remember finding out about blogs for the first time. I was unsure of their worth then, but the idea tempted me.

My Day Job is in IT, and involves almost 100% web-based technologies; nevertheless, I’m a Luddite. This is not as unusual as you might think; many, many good and hard-working colleagues I’ve served with in technology jobs hate technology. I turned to one of these fellows on that day, and said “I’m trying to be a writer, maybe I should start a blog.” He looked at me a little sadly, and said “No – no one cares”. It did seem odd to write entry after entry about how I hadn’t got a gig yet, so that was the end of that for meek old me.

Now, years after I first started taking the screenwriting seriously – I’m certainly not an early adopter in this field (but wouldn’t it be nice to be an overnight success?!) – I’ve reached my first professional credit. In all that time, I’ve read the gurus and practitioners’ handbooks, done a lot of the courses, and joined various groups. I’ve even stopped being such a wallflower when it comes to networking. But just with a few clicks from the links page, I’ve found out there’s so much more to know. And I’ve found out more about some of the writers in attendance on Thursday than I possibly could have while chatting over the wine and nibbles provided.

And even if my ramblings here don’t prove useful, at least I can provide a route to any other interesting blogs and sites I find. And I can read about all those people trying for the same things I’m trying for, and going through the same things I’m going through. No one cares? Pah! Rubbish.