Have Pen Will Travel

A Short Based on Song

2011-02-09T18:38:00.001Z

The following short story is my original adaptation of Jimi Hendrix' Hey Joe. It follows Joe as he tracks down his woman who he has caught messing around with another man, chronicling his emotions and jealous rage as he makes his way to confront his lover.

Hey Joe

He stood waiting, alone, he just waited. His torso covered by a long raincoat, his hair a unkempt and equally unwashed, stubble breaking through the pores in his emotionless face, eyes like cold marble and a frown etched into his forehead. Dusk was falling on the horizon and the pale winter sun slowly sank into the city’s skyline. The bus stop crooked and empty, like an ancient relic, forgotten and unwanted with time. A toy that has lost its novelty.

Cars hiss past him; the rubber of the wheels slapping against the slick tarmac, sodden from a blanket of constant rain. Ranging in velocity from a small shower to torrential downpours but never, ever stopping. It was now in its forty-third day. He didn’t care for the shelter that the small graffiti covered Perspex box provided. In fact he needed the gentle pitter patter of the rain to cool him off. He just allowed it to wash over him. Running over his brow, dripping from the end of his nose even seeping down the nape of his neck. It was a cleansing, not for he had sinned, but he planned to.

Still he stood rigid and alone, his feet cemented to the pavement and his shoulders square. His time in the army had taught him to not move an inch. He just waited, never turning his head to see if the bus was approaching. He just stared coldly into the void. Occasionally a blur of shimmering paint, glass and lights would break the bleak desolate scene that filled his vision. No-one for miles, this part of town was no-man’s land. Huge Victorian factories silhouette in the twilight, once the heart of the city’s economy had now become its black lung. Remains of a proud and flourishing hosiery heritage left to rot. Or worse still, redevelopment into trendy flats. Even the rats ignored this old industrial quarter. But he didn’t this was his exile.

She had put him here. That harlot had shattered his soul and stole his heart. Jealous rage filled his veins. His blood was black and viscous like crude oil, polluting his body with vengeance. He had loved her so dearly. But she had betrayed that love, and for that there was no excuse. Tonight retribution would be delivered. The sweet kisses in his memories now just left a bitter aftertaste, but tonight he would cleanse his pallet and wash away the pain.

The bus arrived, brakes creaking to a halt. The hydraulic doors jerked open with a jolt and a thud. He checked his watch. It was a little after five. The bus was late, seven minutes to be precise. Not that it mattered, he had all night. She’d just be finishing up now at her desk. No more late nights at the office, not now, now she was past lying and discretion.

‘Are you getting on or not?’

He lowered his gaze from his timepiece, refocusing his scowl at the man behind the voice. His glare met by a pair of deep set eyes belonging to the driver. The man behind the wheel miserable with the monotony of his life stared blankly back at the stranger stood checking his watch. He lowered his arm and stepped onto the bus.

‘One way’

‘All the way?’ quizzed the driver, gauging just how far he could push the broken man that stood before him.

‘All the way.’ the response.

‘That’ll be two pound thirty sir, but a day pass is only a pound extra and you can use it all-,’ the driver was silenced with the clang of exact change falling into his coin tray. Acknowledging that there was nothing more to be said the driver punched the fare into his computer with stubby fingers. The ticket stuttered out of the printer until it was torn off.

Stuffing the pointless piece of paper into his pocket, he took a few steps towards the torn and dated seats. The driver watching him in his rear view mirror, waiting to exact his revenge at the perfect moment, abruptly accelerating causing the rude stranger to stumble into his seat. An action intended to embarrass. But he had no time for embarrassment.

He had nothing in his head but her. Thankfully for the two youths at the back of the bus, dressed in their pre-requisite hoodies they now adorned like armour who sniggered as he jolted into the seat. For if he had seen them sneer and he was to have taken said sneer as provocation, it would have been the hoodies’ last smile. The rage bubbling through his veins would have devoured the pimply hyenas. However, he hadn’t seen them and so they didn’t know what a foolish snigger could have cost them.

Apart from the two at the back messing with their phones and the driver the bus was empty, not another soul in the carriage. His skin was grey under the blue neon light implemented to stop addicts shooting up. He was grinding his teeth. It kept him calm. It allowed him to carry on. He sat in silence, but for the cracking and crunching of his molars. He sat calmly not flinching and relaxed. He was meditating, clearing his mind of doubt, fear and uncertainty. He had to be focused, it had to be swift.

He glanced at his watch. It was quarter past five and the sky was black, storm clouds were drawing in. The rain was about to get heavier. Quarter past five, she would be getting to her car now. But she wasn’t heading home, or what they used to call home. She had stopped doing that a while ago. His one bed flat not really fit to call a home was now hollow without her presence. She was his happiness and she had taken it away, and given it to another; choosing to flit from hotel room to hotel room with a married man. A father no less.

The bus rattled on, dank and musty it shuttled towards the sea of streetlights glimmering on the horizon like jewels in the night’s sky. Gradually the jewels grew larger and larger until they disappeared. Then there was nothing but orange neon bulbs glowing in uniformed rows, finally the bus reached his stop. Stepping off the bus and into the city the air was dirty; sordid with smog and sin.

He needed a drink, something to wet his lips, burn his throat and warm his soul; Bourbon, double measure, no ice.

He walked the length of the street until he found a suitable, small, anonymous and shady bar. The rain was now coming down in buckets and somewhere in the distance rumbles of thunder rolled closer and closer. He entered the bar soaking wet, his coat sticking to his skin. The bar was quiet, just a couple of old boys in a dark corner supping on ale, and the barman stood bored behind the mahogany bar polishing glasses. He acknowledged the dripping stranger with a nod.

‘What can I do you for?’

‘Bourbon, neat.’

He propped himself at the bar, resting his weight on a bar stool. The barman placed the whiskey down in front of him. He stared into the glass containing his poison, as though the liquid would evaporate if he looked at it hard enough.

The clock mounted on the wall told him it was coming up to six o’clock. She would be in the bastard’s arms now. They would be cavorting in a close embrace. She would be giving herself to the married adulterer with no thought for the man she had left in the gutter, broken and twisted with heart break and jealousy. Soon, very soon she would realise what she had left behind. But for now he sipped his whiskey and clenched the cold steel that sat so heavy in his pocket. Minutes ticked by, and with each passing moment he knew she was desecrating the love they had once shared.

Another short, sharp sour mash.

He sits and sips the smoky liquor whilst she undresses, kisses and caresses that shallow prick. The gun weighing heavier and heavier in his pocket, his fist welded to the weapons grip. He can no longer keep a handle on his hatred, the red mist is rising.

Outside the night sky is covered with black clouds, battleships eager and ready to unleash hell on the poor victims below. No stars twinkle; all hiding in the expansion of space. The air is prickly with suspense, a new calm before another storm. Sirens wail and echo, reverberating through winding alleys. He steps out of the bar, back into the bustling city and checks his watch, out of habit more than importance. Quarter past seven. His stomach is simmering, the rage beginning to re-boil. He is numb, his jaw locked and every muscle contorted and tense. Before the hour is up she will learn the error she has made. Her life the lesson and his revolver the teacher.

She is holed up just a few streets away at a cheap, grimy guesthouse. A tomb fit for a whore. She had taken his beating heart; he was going to stop hers. Without a second thought he began to pace the pavement, his stride getting stronger with each step and the fury unfurling with every footstep he got closer. Soon he was stood under a failing neon vacancy sign facing the façade of a rundown motel. Somewhere amongst the drawn curtains and unoccupied rooms she was in the embrace of another lover. One of the rooms reeked with the stench of sex; he knew the number and wasn’t going to wait another minute.

Room 151, the brass numbers taunted him. Behind an inch or so of cheap wood was his lost love. He could hear rumbles of frolicking and the maddening sound of moaning. The gun was in his hand and out of the pocket, now weightless with wrath. Taking a second to quell his emotions before opening the door with a heavy kick.

Naked and reeling with shock the two lovers bucked with embarrassment. She grabbed at the duvet to cover herself, her new man jumping to his feet and lunging at the shadowy figure stood where the door used to be. But it was futile; the stranger had already raised his arm and taken aim. A deafening crack rang loud through the motels corridor. A naked torso dropped to the floor dead. The shadow stepped into the light.

‘Joe!’ she screamed realising that the monster who had just murdered her new man was a man she had loved once upon a time.

Before she could make another noise Joe’s hand had the barrel of the stubby revolver aimed at her. She fell silent in terror. Quivering under the duvet like a lost child, she had no way of escape and knew what his rage was capable of. He took aim, held his breath and allowed his ferocity to unfurl. His finger slowly squeezing on the trigger, the hammer cocked and snapped back. Another bang rang out through the building.

He shot her; he shot her down to the ground.

All Things Must End... So Make it Count

2011-02-07T14:03:00.000Z

I am sat here, staring at my moleskine with a blank page just taunting me.

'Just one more paragraph boy!, just one more bit of prose to wrap this beauty up. You can't do it can you, you started so well and managed to endure the middle but now you can't pluck the words out to form the end. You are weak!!!'

I have promised you all a short story by the end of today and a short story by the end of today you shall have. I just need to find the right words as an ending is what the reader is waiting for. It's the pay off, the prestige, the pinnacle of the piece. For a story can be the best story in the world, but if it ends weakly the storyh is doomed to be looked over for the rest of time. If Roy Schnider hadn't shot the gas cannister in Jaws would Spielberg and the film have become such a commercial success? If Dean hadn't drove off and left Sal Paradise to fend for himself after years of crazy debauched trips across America would Kerouac have become such a legend of the beat generation?

Francis Ford Coppola once stated that for a documentary to be great you start with second best and end with the best. This ethos should be carried over to short stories too, start with a hook, end with a Hayemaker.

JQ out...

Hey Joe is Coming

2011-02-05T18:48:00.000Z

Monday there will be a brand new short story penned by myself on here. It is currently in note form in my Moleskine. The premise is a dark and moody tale of a man broken by love and jealousy.

JQ

What Am I?

2011-01-10T16:46:00.000Z

I am a surgeon,
Yet I don't save lives.
I am a murderer,
Yet I don't take lives.
I am God, Allah, Vishnu and Budda,
Yet my Mums' name is Lesley.
I am a new born baby,
Yet I smoke twenty a day.
I am a dying old man,
Yet I have many more years to go.
I am everything,
Yet I am nothing.

What am I?
I am a writer.

Jonny Quest.

RECYCLED RESOLUTIONS

2011-01-07T20:38:00.000Z

I am making 2011 mine, just try and prise it from my grasp. This is my year, I will write more than ever before with verve and gusto.

In no particular order here are my writing resolutions:

Write 3 spec scripts, first drafts.
Enter 5 screenplay competions
Start writing for a magazine (just a small indie one)
Go to networking events
Update blog at least every 3 days
Write that bloody novel.

I'll let you know as I scratch these badboys off one by one.

Inceptional Ideas

2011-01-07T19:54:00.000Z

Wham, I woke up today and had to write... just had to put pen to paper and let rip. an hour later and I had 500 words. Just a stream of conciuosness moment, it just spewed out of me. I forgot what it was like to be inspired, and god it feels good. Heroine hasn't got anything on this baby!! Expect the short story to be up by Wednesday, that is if I haven't overdosed on prose.

As a little clue to get you wet, the short is based on a little known ditty by an underground rockstar from the 60's... you might know him Jimi Hendrix.

Keep them peeled.

JQ out.

Immortal Technique

2010-12-14T10:52:00.003Z

Ok so I dissappeared for a very long time... This is because I have been deep undercover obtaining research for my new screenplay. Who am I kidding, I have just been lazy, then too caught up with life issues, then I bought a bar (gotta have a back up plan) and then finally I got a girlfriend - I know, I know, writers are supposed to be solitary animals never venturing from their musty dim lit bedsits wearing the same dressing gown all week only to take it off when the lastest bestseller/blockbuster is released. Well I am not a fan of Harry 'fuckface' Potter so a girlfriend is a much better distraction.

It is infact the lovely Amy Brammall that has resurrected my ambition to write, and become a succesful writer at that!! Just last week after years of hard graft she got the dream chance she has been waiting for with a very well respected music magazine. She is a freelance music photographer and after forcing her talent on the editor over the phone she was asked to an interview, where she was then offered a contract. Now Amy is bloody brilliant at what she does and it has taken years of no money and sheer determination to get the break, but fianlly the graft has paid off and she hasd got that big break we all wish for.

It is this tenacious quality in her that has fired me back up to get my writing on track. After a breif stint in London with a few close calls (see past blogs: writing a youth drama and a feature film optioned) but no jackpot I lost faith. I started to not believe in myself and life took over, dragging me further and further away from my writing dream and imprisoning me in a monotonous mediocre and mudane existance of paying bills and watching reruns of shite American sitcoms. But that is all over now, Jonny Quest is rising from the ashes and taking charge of his own destiny once again. So watch this space.

Expect poetry, reviews, general life posts and short stories.

JQ out.

Dreams We Have As Children

2010-08-24T15:43:00.002+01:00

A metamorphosis is on its way. This blog is changing. Just watch this space, plus a new blog is on is way.

JQ

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Listening to: Sonic Youth - Theresa's Sound World
via FoxyTunes

Guess Who's Back!

2009-06-18T16:39:00.002+01:00

Right I gotta get this blog back on track - and it starts now.

I have now moved back to Leicester and after a while of wrestling with the dole cue I have finally managed to get back on track. Now moved into a house, which is a good thing as before that I was living amongst the christmas decorations, family photos and old junk in my mothers attic.

On top of that I have now finally started a band with my good friend Kristof, we are The Bolsheviks. After a month or so or searching for a bassist and drummer with no luck both have turned up within a matter of days.

Script writing has been slow but I have come up a few new ideas for stories. But on the same lines I have managed to land a writing gig reviewing festivals - with the possibility of have my work published in the Guardian!!

And that brings you up to date with my life, I'm broke have too many debts that no honest man could pay but I'm off to Glastonbury next week so all is fine.

Sorry Is The Hardest Word.

2009-05-09T04:21:00.003+01:00

Sorry all, I have been rather shamefully uninspired and down beat recently due to many things happening all at once - who is to blame - not I. I blame the bankers and politicians who have right royally fucked things up for the foreseeable future, whats one more accusation in a forest of them?

But yeah the stand up guy in me is saying 'Take it like a man you fucking parasite' so I guess like a game of unfortunate pass the parcel the buck stops with me. But salvation is in sight. I will be coming back at you very soon, watch this space.

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Listening to: Cast - Track 05
via FoxyTunes

Man's Gotta Have a Plan.

2009-01-22T15:29:00.004Z

I have had much thought to what I would like to achieve in 2009, some don't really tie in with my writing career so I won't bore you with these but below is my list of goals that do fall under the career umbrella.

In no particular order

Write a new spec script.
Make my own short film.
Attend more festivals and networking events.
Get a job within the television industry - runner most probably.
Get my first spec (Hooligan) produced.
Write a Sit-Com.

So that is my list If I can achieve 50% I will be happy.

THE NEW SPEC
I have a list of ideas in one of my notebooks - this lists currently about 8 feasible feature film ideas, as well as many various short films and TV series/one-offs. So I will begin work on one of these very soon, this will be my main project I think as I love writing films. I should hopefully finish a first draft very in a couple of months, as it is better to have a whole story and then work out things that don't fit, character developement etc etc as you know where they will end up. I love closure, it allows the whole process to develope where constantly straining to get the best out of the scene, scene by scene just drives me nuts. If I have a blue print I can use it as a map and not get lost in the dark woods of confusion and frustration.

MAKE MY OWN SHORT
The wheel s are already in motion for this goal. My first project with me as a director for over a year now. It is not going to be too strenuos just allow me to flexmy directing muscles again 'practise is good' in the words of Big Tony. So my first short this year will be a simple film, a film I have coined the 'a mood piece'. To explain what I mean, this film will not have any dialogue (some writer I am eh?) but will rely solely on the shots (composition, depth of field etc etc) and the score to inject emotion and story. It is a test run with a crew of uni friends all wanting to make films.

ATTEND MORE FESTIVALS
Now I live in London and have finally just aout got settled I will start to attend more networking opportunities as an when I can. This is basically a nesecessaty if I want to move things forward constantly and will just depend on my get up and go, plus the bank roll.

GET A JOB WITHIN THE INDUSTRY
This is basically my main goal. I am sick of bar work, I wan to start my career!! So this year I will be emailing and posting applications to every productioncompany I can. I have joined a couple of job sites and TV support schemes so hopefully this should come in time.

GET MY FIRST SPEC PRODUCED
I am also half way to getting this baby off the ground, I mentioned it in my last post. The long and short of this being that my short script audition has to be better than the other geezer sat in a small dark roomhuddled over his precious laptop. Or that a bus happens to end him.

WRITE A SIT-COM
I have two sit-coms in my artinerary and so I think that I should begin to work on one this year, I have always loved the thought of challenging myself to see if I can write funny material. So I am gonna give it a shot.

On top of these goals I will also be doing my level best in writing the youth drama with mama productions. Hopefully by January 2001 my year will have paid off.

QUEST QUOTE:
'Get busy trying or get busy dying' - says exactly what it means.

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Listening to: Johnny Cash - Personal Jesus
via FoxyTunes

A Brief Encounter.

2009-01-20T12:44:00.004Z

I don't know about you guys but for me 2009 has already been a mad year, and its not even three weeks in yet. Last week I was almost ready to give up, I must emphasise ALMOST. I am not a quitter and I am a very optimistic person, some might say dreamer. But when the day came that I had fifty quid to last me a month and no house I was pretty much down and out. Luckily my friends from university came to my rescue, giving me there sofa to crash on, which is actually a whole lot comfier than my last bed. But my future was still uncertain, and my dream seemed quashed. I had to reassess, my only objective to find a house and fast, with but one obstacle, cash. I have no readies in the bin and this means no deposit.

However, I wasn't going to let a little thing like deposit money trouble me, if need be I would have been willing to put my whole months wages into my rent and deposit and live of scraps for a month. So with a roof sorted for the immediate future either in Shoreditch or Wimbledon (another friend has a spare room there) I just got on with working to gain some wonga for my rent. Bored at work and depressed with my plight I decided to distract myself by reading my emails, this was a great morale booster. Staring back at me in bitesize form on my phone was an email from Reece at Mama Youth Productions informing us of our next meeting due on the 31st, with a new brief, as well as news that we would have photo's of the actors auditioning to play our characters. Which is exciting in a funny way, I have cast people before for my short films but this project feels different somehow.

Full of enthusiasm and a new assignment I was decided to get in touch with Nathan from Link Productions. So I sent him a polite email just enquiring if he had received the copy of my script I had sent him. No reply so I waited a couple of days and again politely about any sort of feedback to my script. I do want to stress that I hadn't 'cold called' him, months before Nathan had put an advert on Mandy.com asking for synopsis' so I sent mine to him. Later he had gotten back to me asking to see the script. So I wasn't being too forward in asking for some sort of response. But again I had no response. I thought of all the possibilities that could be happening. Most were not good thoughts.

But a few nights later I received a call that changed things, Nathan wanted to meet up and talk about my script!! This was big news, it might of well have been a conference call with Harvey Weinstein and Martin Scorsese. A director and production company were interested in my script, and my dream of writing a feature film that gets made was a step closer, a low budget feature but a feature none the less.

I wasn't the only writer in the running though and Nathan explained to me the next part of the selection process in having my film made. The first part was that my script seemed potentially viable by Link Productions along with a few other scripts. The next phase was to allow the director Nathan and the producer a chance to see how each writer works and how well they work with each other. So a brief was set, to write a 10 to 15 minute shot film based upon their synopsis. I received the synopsis and at first felt a hefty task to include the whole deeply dark story I had been sent in a 15 minute film. But we arranged to have a meeting yesterday and I raised my concerns after we had had a brief chat about my feature script. I also gave solutions to the problems I had raised in the plot and Nathan seemed to like them and now I am much more confident with the direction of my story. Finally at the meeting I was informed that after consideration only two writers had received the 'audition' synopsis.

May the best man (or woman) win.

In future posts henceforth I will try to add a little 'thought for the day' based on my ramblings above. Here is my first Quest Quote (I just made that up) 'Perseverance works'. Never give up, there are always avenues and alleys to turn down from your main road, use them, you never know sometimes they turn out to be short cuts.

Peace
JQ

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Listening to: Mr. Hudson & The Library - Take Us Somewhere New
via FoxyTunes

Revolting Che-ite!!

2009-01-16T15:35:00.003Z

So it is with great pain that I write this blog. It will mainly be a review of Steven Soderbergh's latest film, but I will bore you with a little rant about my current life situation.

Ok so my life seems to be on a nasty little loop at the moment. I am just about to find my feet then from nowhere the rug is pulled from under them. I land square on my back and have to start all over again. Once again I am homeless, and if this latest twist in my adventure had happened just a month ago I would have been ready to pack it all in admit defeat and headed home to Leicester with my tail between my legs. But it didn't happen then it happened now, and now I have a flicker of hope in the writing world. The youth project, it's the youth drama that is the only thing keeping me here in the Big Smoke. I feel like fucking Oliver Twist at the moment, and everywhere I turn there is a Fagin trying to pull a fast one on me!! But with Reece, Paul, Marlon and the rest of the writers I have found a group of people who I can 'consider my self at home and well in' with. So thanks guys if it wasn't for the project and the constant banter via the facebother group I would have packed up and left by now. In other news about the said project, we have a plot development meeting at the end of January and we have also been told there may be a possibility that we get to have a sneaky look at all the actors who have applied for the roles we created - this is very exciting for me. I also have a new brief to write a two minute dialogue between my character and a stranger, this is an exercise to see how our characters interact with people and also to see our writing styles compare to others in the group.

So now on to the main event my review of a film that from the adverts literally had me foaming at the mouth. CHE -part one. Firstly I will say that I am reserving judgment until I see the second part in February , and also what you read you may not like. I desperately wanted to like this film. Reading about it before its release and seeing screenshots it looked as though the casting people and Steven had made the best casting choice with Benicio Del Toro playing Mr. E. Guevara since Val had become Jim. Sadly it also seems that the whole premise was based on this casting. Like just the fact they had an actor who looked like Che meant that the film would be good by default. Don't get me wrong it did have parts to it hat were amazing the parts at the UN convention shot in black and white and juxtaposed against the 1956 - 59 struggle of Castro and his guerrilla army of revolutionaries to free Cuba from Bastita's control. I loved the black and white shacky camera technique and the tension at the UN summit. In fact I wish the whole film had been set here, as the rest is pretty poor.

For a film called Che there isn't enough back story to Ernesto's history. The filmmakers defend this by stating that The Motorcycle Diaries had done such a good job in showing this part of his life that they didn't need to. Bullshit, if that is true then there would be no need to make films about the man at all as the best way to know about him is to read books, and there are plenty. Secondly at no point through the film did you become attached or sympathise with any of the characters be it Che, Castro or the number of smaller roles. This was the biggest fault I feel as the whole plot is about this band of brothers united in a common goal of freeing Cuba and you just don't feel part of the brotherhood so when they do finally reach Santa Clara rather than jumping to your feet atop of your cinema seat and letting out a heart felt war cry for the good of the cause, you simply stare blankly at the screen whilst a few good men try to reach a church. There is no climax, no Alamo it just fizzles out to a motorcade heading to Havana. It seems all too played down.

But I will stop here as the film may be made good again by Part Two we will just have to see, but I was let down on many fronts. The relationship between Castro and Che wasn't strong enough, there was no real emotion to be felt, and the climax never came. But this may just be the age old saying of never meeting your heroes at work here as this is the closest I will ever come to meeting Che. Finally I would like to add that the filmmakers tried to steer clear of 'Che the icon' then ruined it all by having an American journalist ask him in the final part of the film 'how does it feel to be an icon?'. For me he is an icon due to his actions and beliefs, this film just becomes another piece of memorabilia for students along with their flags and t shirts with Che's iconic mugshot on them. Overall I feel that this film was nothing more than America capitalising on the fact that it was the 50th anniversary of Cuba's revolution, one that fifty years ago put their noses truly out of socket. Deflated I just hope that Slumdog Millionaire can lift my spirits.

12 Not So Angry Men ( and Women)

2008-12-23T14:25:00.005Z

So, I have been stupidly busy these past two weeks, well thats a lie. I have been ridiculously busy this past week but the week before i was just plain lazy (too many parties if I'm honest). But I have finally seemed to find a brief moment of calm and so I thought I should return to this small space on the world wide web I call my own.

No films to review this week unfortunately as I have one been way to busy to watch anything, again I lie, I have watched a few things but nothing really worth mentioning. unless you count Russell Brand's Ponderland, to some this up I need only really use one word. I like the guy, most people don't, but I don't mind him. It's not like he told me he fucked my granddaughter in all manners of graphically debauched ways on national radio. But Ponderland is lame, like a parasite living off the blood of the controversaty that was the naughty phone call. Don't get me wrong some of the things on there had me laughing but it is a very weak show. So weak in fact I am going to stop talking about it now.

Right so like I mentioned my first week was mainly just parties, me trying to detox and more parties failing to actually detox. So nothing really to mention there, and if there was I don't really think I could remember it so I will move swiftly on to the last weeks events. Which I must say have been probably my favourite since being doing in London. As I have had a taster of what it was I moved down here to achieve - writing (professionally). Now chill your boots - I realise that I have to think as though I am already a pro (thanks Danny) and I do, I write my scripts as often as I can and there is even time scheduled to attack my writing (I do about 20hrs week). But this past week I have been working for a company with a team of writers. That's right the project I mentioned in a few previous posts has now come around, and I am fucking loving it.

It started last Tuesday, and I am afraid like all good shows I can't talk about what we are actually coming up with other than it being a youth drama. There is a wild bunch writers involved, each of us has a different angle to add and we are a well balanced and eclectic mix of young people. I'll just mention there names for now as I can't be arsed today to get too deep in this as I have work tonight and I don't want to spend my free time just focusing on this here blog entry. So in no particular order we have Reece, Paul, Marlon, Les, Jackie, Christie, Selina, Andrea, Celeste, Chimba and me. I don't think I have missed anyone out - and those rainmen out there will notice that ther are only 11 people here not twelve as mentioned in the title well you pedantic bastards the twelth be Bob - the gaffer. Descriptions and impressions of all these guys will come in good time but at the moment I will let your imaginations fill in all the blanks.

Like I said, we all met each other for the first time on Tuesday, some of us had already briefly met during the interview stages of this project but for the rest of us it was the first time we had seen each other. The the only two faces we all knew were that of Bob, and Reece, who had both been interviewers. So first up was a little ice breaking exercise, which turned out to be very funny as we all had to give an embarrassing memory for the rest of the group to chuckle at. Mine was lame as I couldn't think of one at all, although like everyone else I have loads. Since the question has been posed I have remember many memories I buried to forget, but put on the spot I couldn't remember a decent one. Once all our faces were red we got down to business. The brief was pretty much a carte blanche, apart from one key word that rhymes with my favourite tipple.

Our first order of business was to create our main characters, this proved a fast exercise as we had all obviously already been thinking about this for a while. The rest of the week we talked a little about plot but mainly we developed our characters with a variety of exercises designed to challenge us and also just general chat about the 'types' of people they were based on. Then the penny was dropped on Friday that on the following Monday (yesterday) we were to have written a two minute monlogue and also be prepared to act it out in character. This was amazing we had all been develping our characters for three days (and nights) and now we had to put words into their mouths, whilst also hinting at our characters history and attitude in the two minutes. If these Monologues didn't cut it with Bob then the consequences were not even bare thinking about. If they Bob didn't like what we had done with our characters we then they were for the chop, or worse the whole project would end there. This couldn't happen with my character, I had grown to attached to him. It was like naming a lamb before you slaughter it. I know now I would have been devastated if my character had not made it through. As it turns out they all did. Which was a cause for a cheer and drink or two, we had made it through stage one, now we had to prepare for stage two. We left with an assignment to think about an umbrella plot for the show, and also develop and add depth to our chosen characters. But this was probably the best christmas present I could have asked for.

I have had this post sat in my drafts for a while and so figure I should just post it!! I was going o go into a little more detail about the drama but it can wait. In other news I am meeting up with director and associate of Link Productions soon to talk about my feature script Hooligan.

I hope you all had a merry time over the festive season and that you are sticking to your resolutions. I have a list of them!!

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Listening to: Flobots - Fight With Tools
via FoxyTunes

Seduced by Satan's Slut

2008-12-11T15:52:00.002Z

So the other day I see an advert for Channel 4's new drama, The Devil's Whore, and a fan of all things swashbuckling I was sold immediately. Straight the way I jump on to 4OD and download the first two episodes to catch up and test whether I'd like to watch the rest of the show. The answer (after about 15 mins) was yes, yes I will.

It is great yarn, set during the rise of parliament and the Civil War we watch as the it follows the life of Angelica Fanshawe. Obviously as with all 'based on true stories' the dramatisation takes liberties here and there, but as a period peice of entertainment I am really enjoying the show. And what isn't to enjoy?? Battles, seiges, and politics all three are right up my alley. The acting is good too, there are occasional cring worthy secenes and lines but other than that the hour passes smoothly. John Simm plays Sexby - probably the coolest motherfucker to ever roam London's streets in during 1600's. Sexby is a gun for hire(or rather a sword) he is cool, calm and collected, with wise cracks and devious plans he makes the show for me. He is the Han Solo of historical London. But the show is engaging and well made, it isn't entirely accurate or true to what really happened back in the day, but it does make Oliver Cromwell cool. If you have an hour spare give it a bash, you won't be disappointed.

In other news I am now becoming increasingly eager to get into this media lark on any level. I attended a networking event last night for graduates of the TV researchers course I took and staring at the people in the room I realised I could be anyone of them, well most. It really isn't that hard once you have a launch mat, I just need to start bothering lovely Marie at Top TV Academy. But she has already told me that things won't start moving again until January 2009, so for now I will bide my time and unleash hell when it suits. The course guarantees TWO placements and if i haven't managed to hold on to one of those two placements as a perminent job (or at least got a paid freelnace contract) then I am in the wrong business. I know, that once I'm in I will not leave though, my work ethic will make sure of that. I am fully prepared to do anything to impress. I just need some decent credits to my name. Then things will feel better, at the moment I'm like a lost boy refusing to grow up. But I want to start entering my pubic stages with a TV company ASAP.

Finally I got the best lesson about my feature script. Turns out my university knew diddly squat and just lied to me. Now in the real word I got an older, more experienced writer to proof read my first feature that I am proud of and he straight the way informed me it was all wrong, wrong, wrong. But not so wrong that it should be scrapped I just need to find the time to rewrite all the action as it reads too much like a book, plus there are a few other tweaks that need resolving but I am glad I got the info now and not after I had sent out the script to production companies and agents. So big thanks going out to Nick.

To summorise - I love the drama The Devil's Whore, my life is stale and in need of a media injection and my writing needs to become a little more professional looking.

Peace
JQ

Only in London

2008-12-09T17:03:00.003Z

So first things first, hello to my new follower, I like this feeling people actually choosing to read my rambling and rants. So a big warm welcome to Adaddinsane. I hope you like what you read.

Ok so my night on Saturday was a crazy one, and it started off very professional. I headed on down to my bar - its a small coffee bar in Shoreditch called The Old Shoreditch Station, and it has become my new living room as I am currently living in a dorm style room with 5 other people. So I am sat writing my new script ZNDS, a part animation part live action genre bending piece when I start to procrastinate and head straight for the blogs. One in particular catches my eye - Jason Arnopp's post on just how short life actually is. This litle blog gets me thinking, and I had been weighing up whether or not I should attend a party in the evening s I am running low on bread and could do with an early night, but after reading I only have a mere few hundred hours left to live I figure I'll go all out catch a movie - Waltz With Bashir, review further down - and then head to this warehouse party.

The movie was brilliant, but more on that later. Back to the party and I end up very messy and left alone by my friends who invited me down, my survival mechanism kicks in and I latch on to a group of girls who invite me to an after party, which I take up. It is here at the after party a little out of my depth for I was a total stranger that I got to talking with a very friendly girl by the name of Sabrina. Here my life took a small turn for what maybe a better route, at least as far as my own precious working hours go. One of her first questions was 'so who do you model for' flattered and shocked I retort chuckling 'no-one' to which she instantly replies 'my goodness are you serious, I don't believe you you could make a lot of money!!' turns out Sabrina is a model her self and she is absolutely dumbfounded that I haven't been 'approached before' I shrug the comment of casually with 'I've only been in London for two months'. But then she decides to take it upon herself to get me 'discovered' and so now I am going to be introduced to her agency at some point soon. We need to talk and then we'll go from there - she made sure I had her contact details and said she would be in to chat soon. So now I am to just sit and wait for the call!! Obviously I am not holding my breath and I would rather write than model but if the sort of money she was talking about is true for the amount of hours worked I will gladly pull vogue than pull pints. But as Public Enemy say 'Don't believe the hype' So we shall see, maybe I am just destined to pull pints for the rest of my life.

Ok so on with the review. Waltz with Bashir. A dream like look at the realities of war and the minds of the soldiers affected. This is not your average film or documentary for that matter but a unique portrayal of the story it tells. In essence an animation but I think that most if not all was filmed before becoming animated - a la A Scanner Darkly - this I feel was a very important decision made by the Isreali director (Ari Folman). This is because the film deals with dreams or rather nightmarish flashbacks of combat and subsequent Palestinian massacre that soldiers/friends of Ari, he too was a soldier in the 1982 Israeli/Lebanon war, are having. Sparking off his own quest to remember the war as he has all but blocked it out of his memory. The pacing is slow and sombre and feels very much like a hazey dream, with great tones and flashes of colour to counteract the solemn story.

I feel that the other reason Folman chose to use animation was that it allowed him to 'Show' much more truth. For instance once his memory of the events start to come back the true brutality of the conflict are brought to light families including children lined up and gunned down with out reason or motive just murdered in cold blood. Another scene show a child soldier wandering through an orchard with an RPG (Rocket-proppelled Grenade) after launching the grenade and causing mayhem the boy of an age no older than 9 is mercilessly gunned down. If this had not been animated I am pretty sure it wouldn't have made it from the cutting room floor. This is Bashir's saving grace, it allows the world to see, in full technicolour and without cutting away, what mistakes have been made in our own history. The soundtrack is also very good and compliments both the animation and the films topic very well. I only wanted to see it as I am as I have already stated writing a animation/live action film and wanted to see how this had been address with this film. I came out educated and enlightened to a war I didn't really know existed (obviously I know of the middle-eastern confilsts, but only what I see on the news). The film ends with a very hard hitting piece of documentary film making - no dialogue, no animation just pure archive footage showing nothing but pointless destruction, pain, loss, suffering and death. This comes out of the blue and is a very good eyeopener as the audience has become somewhat used to a 'cartoon' so the last minutes worth of footage is a hard hitting minute.

But yes only in London can you watch a good movie, get absoluelty wasted then end up with the possiblity of becoming a model!!

Peace
Jonny

Pied Pipings

2008-12-06T14:25:00.003Z

I have a follower,!! One disciple, I feel like the pied piper in the early years when he wasn't such a whiz on the magical flute.

Hello Titanicsurvivor93 you have quite literally made my day. This will be a short blog as I am busy writing my cult classic - it's gonna be awesome - Think Gorrilaz meets Zatoichi! A mixture of live action and animation with British wry humour and immense action. So today I am going to try and not procrastinate and actually get this little bad boy off the ground. As once I have finished the first draft I can hop back to a couple of other half started scripts that are just waiting to receive my full attention. My aim is to actually have a portfolio rather than one scriot by mid January, even if it is just a portfolio of first drafts at least then I have a far more maluable work load than just a load of ideas on napkins and in my noggin.

On another small note a funny thing happened to me at work yesterday, a guy came in looking for a part-time job and happened to say 'I'm currently working in TV and hate it - I just want a part time job'. My reply was 'ha, I have moved here to attain a TV job (see Danny Stacks current series, step 4, as to why) do you want to swap??' He laughed and said he gladly would, he is a musician with a band who are gathering interest and freelancing is taking up too much time. It's just a shame we don't live in a Disney world where people can swap lives like the prince and the pauper. Oh well I guess I just gotta slog it out and wait for my work experience in January where I will do my best to shine and become indispensable. Cunning I know.

Changeling and Changes

2008-12-05T15:37:00.006Z

Well, I shall start with a review today. For a truly amazing film. The man with no name who is actually called Clint Eastwood has done it again. His latest film, Changeling sees Angelina Jolie give her best performance to date. This Review may be a little biased as I absolutely loved the movie.

The whole thing reeked of quality, every aspect was flawless; the story, the dialogue, the character arcs, the pacing, the acting, the direction, the editing, the cinematography. EVERY. THING. the overall standard was one that is so very rarely seen nowadays with Hollywood films. I also learnt a lesson, if Mr. Eastwood gives you a few laughs in the opening twenty minutes of his films, take them - every one, as once they have faded there is no going back and things get heavy. Not just (insert dodgy Australian accent) 'a dingo ate my baby' heavy but edge of your seat, heart in your mouth, tears in your eyes heavy. A tense and emotionally immersing if some what draining two and a half hours, but well worth every second. Jolie should receive an Oscar for her performance, a well balanced and totally mesmerizing performance. If anything she underplayed the role, right up until the last act, where she came into her own. And on the subject of Angelina, her make up was amazing. I am no authority figure so all I can say is that the paling of her complexion and the emphasis of her lips was amazing if some what very subtle at times. But Angelina Jolie showed a very rehearsed and 'lived in' character, the make-up and costume only added to the illusion.

The story itself, being based on a true story, is a very cutting one today, as it reflects the times we all live in. I don't want to give too much away but the film is set during the 30's when the general public depended on newspapers and the radio as a source of fact and truth. But as is shouted out in the film, the mainstream media lies. This isn't always down to the media but more to do with the fact that people in higher positions of power make sure the media prints and broadcasts what it wants them to say. This was very well portrayed through out the movie and serves as a reminder to us all that we should always question what we are told by our government, police and broadcasters.

There were brilliant performances all round throughout the film, from the little whippersnappers playing vital roles in the whole film, some scenes - possibly the hardest few scenes were played out by kids as young as 8, and they deserve a lot of merit. You truly believed in their plight. Angelina proved herself as an A lister in this film also, if you had doubts about her acting qualities before, once you watch this they should disappear. She like all the greats manages to underplay the role and still have you captivated. Angleina manages to depict a woman fighting a hopeless battle with few allies in 1930's LA when the law was above the law and it is only attainable with the help of all her support cast - from Malkovich as the sharp tongued and quick witted Rev. Briegleb to Micheal Kelly as Detective Ybarra, who seems to be the only copper not on the take.

I don't want to spoil the film for future audiences, as I do thoroughly believe that it is the best film of the decade and that Oscars aplenty are in line for this piece of cinematic history. All that is left to say is thank you Clint for a truly awe inspiring piece of film. Also a shout out to the writer - J. Micheal Straczynski - on such an amazing script, the dialogue is amazing and there are just enough humouros quips to keep the audience from turning into blubbering wrecks in a dark and gloomy world of deception and murder most foul. Overall the story was captivating, the performances were stellar, and I truely this is the best thing to come out of the Hollywood mill since There Will Be Blood.

I am afraid that during the course of my review a few friends have joined me and now I am a little incapacitated to continue writing, so at half seven on Friday night I leave you blurry eyed and lazy handed. I will just say that today I sent my feature film script the first I have spoiled over for about 18 months to a total stranger for advice and guidance and should hopefully discover whether it is worth pursuing or not within the next week. On top of that I have just started work on my cult classic that I want to write in a totally unique way in order to attract as much attention as possible. But how do you write a mixed media film? (I intend to use both live action and animation) Any ideas/solutions would be greatly appreciated via email or comment to this post.

Peace
Jonny Quest

What Goes Up.

2008-12-03T16:44:00.007Z

Things are constantly changing for me, like an Escher painting one minute I will be going up some stairs then in the blink of an eye those same steps will be headed in the opposite direction. It's a constant game of snakes and ladders and most the time I seem to be slithering back down to square one.

Point in case, I was finally getting settled at my new flat - a Del Boy-esque semi squat, that I share with eight other people - I was planning on staying there for at least another four months, mainly due to the cheapness and because it is so close to my day job. When out of the blue I get a bizarre message from a total stranger. The stranger being my current landlords dad who along with his wife has just arrived from their home country of Brasil. So I'm sitting there watching friends, the one with the race car bed, trying to rewrite parts of Hooligan but not really feeling it and the father comes in. He seems hesitant then drops the bombshell in broken English, which made things even more bizarre, but the long and short I managed to fathom was that I am being evicted from the flat along with my two room mates Nick (the scouse) and Guiseppe (the Italian). What through me was that the conversation was started with 'I have one complaint' which I think was just a mistranslation as no complaint ever transpired just an explanation to the shitty situation I now find my self in. Basically, the parents are here to stay and my room is there planned HQ. I do the British tourist slow speaking back at him with questions such as 'So you want me to move out?' and 'I have to leave?' I get my answer, 'Yes, two weeks, its enough time no?' What could I say six weeks isn't enough time to claim squatters right so I just nod and smile. The parting words from the bastard is 'Friends (laughs) it's a funny show'. He hadn't even left the room before I was on Gumtree finding digs. Which I managed to find reletively easy due to not being a fussy bugger. I then had to wait to inform the rest of the flat with the news. Which was met with much animosity and annoyance.

The room I found seems to be better located for me and is a room for two people so I invited Nick to join me in the venture, he has agreed and I go to look at the new abode in an hour. Purely out of formality as I have no choice and the sooner I get out the better as I'm trying to dodge rent this week as to gain some cash back. But the point I am trying to make is that it is only when things start to move forward that the universe starts to throw curve balls. I have been coasting along with no real ups or downs and things just played out in a standard fashion. But as soon as I land my first writing gig, I start this youth drama team writing on the 16th of Dec, things go west!! And to be honest the fact that I was going to be homeless didn't even bother me, the only thought running through my mind as this Maradona look-a-like* was telling me that this house was no longer any good for me was 'shit, how am I going to keep this writing job with no fixed address?'. But where there's a will, and there is a fucking will, there's a way. And there is a FUCKING way.

I am very excited about this team writing gig, I have never done it before and so it will be a valuable learning curve, plus I get to make some contacts and maybe even some writing buddies down here which will prove very handy for proof reading and shaping future scripts.

I have finally closed the book on Hooligan. It is done and done, I will give it one reread maybe drop a few lines here and a few there but I must must move on. All things must pass, and I don't want to be that guy who believes that this one script is the holy grail and up like that German geezer on The Last Crusade, with my face melting due to sheer over assumption. So tonight I begin a new read hot hopefully cult classic. ZNDS to those in the know the four letters mean a lot but for the rest of you, wait a little longer until I have more flesh on it. The title is enough to give all you budding writers out there a gem of a B-movie.

This weeks lesson in life London is full of snakes and backstabbers, I have now had a dodgy boss (cutting corners and underpaying like the best cowboy builders) and also a shoddy landlord. I'm a fucking living London cliché!!

your faithful dreamer
Jonny Quest

* I know Maradona is Argentinean, and no I am not some narrow minded bigot that thinks all South Americans look the same, the guy in my flat actually resembles the divine handed, cocaine snorting, wife beating football wizard that is Diego.

One Small Step

2008-11-29T14:43:00.005Z

Well as London is getting colder and colder, no I'm not talking about the pompous population, but the actual temperature. My career seems to be getting warmer and warmer as I am making little steps towards fruition!! I have studied media production for 9 years of my life, I have dreamt of working within the industry since before I can remember and I have never really had a chance to get work, then from nowhere just like London buses, not one but two opportunities turn up at once! No no, they didn't just land on my lap, and obviously I do not have a celebrity parent to leech a career off. No I did my research and put my efforts into finding things that will help me further my career.

Firstly I had applied for a writing job that I found on mandy.com about a month ago, to my surprise I got a call to an interview. Which I attended on Monday of this week, I was late as I misjudged the business and distance to North Acton, but this seemed to be ok as it was a group interview and I was just squeezed into the schedule. I did my best to charm the pants off of the interrogators and things must have worked - particularly my recounting of the scariest moment of my life (my thinking I was going to be murdered by a crazed man weilding a screwdriver and his equally insane dog clapping its jaws at my throat) - as I received an email yesterday saying I got the gig, I am on the writing team!!!

Secondly, I forked out £300 of my hard earned dosh to pay for a jounior research workshop with a company called Top TV Academy and after two days of intense furious teachings from Ronit Knoble, a brilliant teacher and as she loved to proclaim 'typical Jewish mother', I managed to 'graduate' (I got a certificate) from the course and have been put on a work placement with a production company in the new year!! But as we all know, the key to landing a job in TV is to get a placement then become so indispensible that they don't want you to leave. And I promise you now I will not be leaving that company for at least two months. I intend to kiss goodbye to bar work by March. Come mhy birthday in April I wan't to be able to say that my occupation is a freelance researcher and not a barman.

But for now it is still the same old grind, wake up, go to work, make drinks, come home, write, and sleep. I just have to wait it out a few more weeks until January when things will start to actually change for me. We each make our own luck and I seem to be doing a good job of it at the moment.

My final draft of Hooligan will be completed today!! I have grown tired of it and need to start a new project or two. I want a decent portfolio by January, as Danny Stacks' blog has been a big inspiration recently and got my creativity stirring again.

Over and Out.
JQ

Gotta Get Myself Organasised!! - part 2

2008-11-26T00:04:00.005Z

Previously on Have Pen Will Travel; Jonny has realised his boss is a no good liar, found a new job, got a bed to call his own and just performed a cunning trick in order to get what was rightfully his back again. We join him as he embarks on a road to better himself.

Yes what I had in mind was far more valuable than any new gadget could ever be, my money was going on education, and there is nothing more valuable than knowledge. Especially when it is education about the industry you are trying so desperately trying to enter. I decided to go for a researchers course as this is one notch above entry level in the media game and figure I'm not getting any younger so and short cuts I can find are a bonus (any executive producers out there need a rimming??). The course was one completed by a couple of friends a year or so ago, soon after 'graduating' they were working in the media game. The course? What's the god damn name? I hear you scream. To answer your question, it is the Top TV Academies' Junior Researcher two day course. Now I realise that I want to be a screenwriter and that there is no scriptwriting involved with researching, and also that TV is not film, but as Danny Stack points out in his latest blog Professional Screenwriter, Step 4: Industry Insider

As a lot of ‘getting ahead in the biz’ is about who you know, then getting work within the industry makes a lot of sense, especially if you want to broaden your basic experience.

So I am looking to get into the industry as quickly as possible, hopefully with my degree and this course under my belt I should be on my way shortly. Particularly as the nice guys at this academy help you to find work once you complete the course. Fingers crossed you will see my name right at the end of some game shows credits in the new year.

Finally to wrap up my brief history of the last three weeks I just need to mention a big step in my writing career, but a small step in the actual spectrum of TV/Film. It begins a few weeks ago, whilst I was rummaging through certain media job sites. It was on mandy.com that I stumbled upon a post for a screenwriter on a new youth drama for a production company that broadcasts on the Community Channel SKY 539. I immediately sent the information desired to the company. Two weeks later I had all but forgot about my application to the show and to my surprise I had been called into an interview.

The interview happened on Monday, I was late as trains were ridiculously crammed and I also got lost in North Acton, which appears to be one huge industrial estate, but eventually I found my way to the right unit block. Upon reaching the office I was met by the producer and ushered into a waiting room filled with other hopefuls, here I had to complete a written test of some probing questions as to my out look on society and drama as a medium. This part I hated there is never enough paper and you never really know what to say, then after about 20 minutes of uneasy small talk I was asked to enter the lions den. This part of the interview I loved; I managed to charm my ass off and seemed to answer the questions with the sort of thing the interrogators were wanting to hear. I should find out my fate on Friday.

And that is it, you have all but caught up with my journey to become a writer. I am still enjoying London, but my wallet isn't and things are going to be tight over these next few months but I have made a conscious decision to start taking my screenwriting very seriously now and have started to rota 20hrs a week into my schedule solely for the purpose of writing. This is a recommendation coming both from Danny Stack's Professional Screenwriter step-by-step guide and a free seminar video that can be found on Robin Kelly's blog. But you don't have to be an economist to figure out that staying in writing films = not going out and frittering money away on needless shite.

Peace
JQ

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Listening to: Cold War Kids - Pregnant
via FoxyTunes

Gotta Get Myself Organasised!! - part 1

2008-11-25T22:08:00.004Z

Ok, ok I know I promised you that I wouldn't allow my blog to slip into the abyss ever again. So for this I am sorry, but I am back and this time it is for good, you have my word. Ok so apologies over back to our feature presentation. My Life.

So... where to start, this past three weeks have been my most hectic and to some degree productive since I stepped of the train from Leicester, the city that no-one knows. Or at least they all have different perceptions of where it is and you would be forgiven to think that it was actually something like that of Cloud City and freely roaming in the winds. Up north (where I lived for 4 years in a lovely little city Carlisle - the most secular, racist and hostile city I have had the pleasure to spend part of my life) they reckon that us Chisitts* are to be tarred with the same brush as cockney geezers. Now that I am in amongst the smog of the Big Smoke I am constantly being refured to as the northerner. It doesn't help that whilst living in the Isle of Car my accent mutated into a northern twang, but still I moved back to the midlands for a bit and have managed to tame the northern monkiness in my voice, and have managed to reclam some of my midland dialect!! So to help you all, Leicester is not North, it is not South but like name of the region I live in (East Midlands) suggests it is in the MIDDLE. Exactly in the middle to be procise - you couldn't get further away from any coastline if you tried. Anyway it has been a busy three weeks and I will try recall it in an orderly fashion.

Ok so, way back at the beginning of this month I found out the owner of the bar I was (notice the past-tense) working for had the reliability of a London bus, and his word amounted to nothing. I'd trust Fagin over Mr. Foley any day of the week. But to cut a long story short, I had entrusted a large amount of my wonga with my former boss under the impression he would use it to find me a house with the three chefs as I had been promised. With weeks seemingly disappearing and still living on the sofa I made enquiries and discovered that there wasn't going to be a house. Which in all fairness was fine, I am perfectly capable of finding my own abode. Which out of courtesey to my humble and willing housmates I immeditely started to do. In a matter of days I had room, well I found digs. But they are cheap, and there location ment I wouldn't need to get any transport to work, thus sving more money. The downside to the price is the set up, there are nine of us sharing a three bed flat in a block of flats not too dissimilar to Nelson Mandela House, but it is a roof and bed. I had also far out stayed my welcome in the lads house and wanted to let them see that it wasn't me taking them for granted!! And so now I live in Shoreditch with all the hip kids.

Then the new restaurant was to open and so I was called in to help prepare the new venue. What 'help prepare' actually meant was work like dog doing general labour in the day then transform into a bartender at night. Still all the time trying to get my down payment back. Life with this boss was beginning to seem short. I would be given one excuse to the other each time I enquired as to the whereabouts of my loot. Eventually on a walk to work early one morning I saw my oppurtunity to make my exit, a poster with the immortal words 'Wanted: Barman'. The next chance I got I popped in to bar, where I was diverted from my jobhunting mission by a bottle of Rye on the back bar, my favourite bourbon - Buffalo (those at my last bar in Leicester will testify to that) and on top of that they had apple juice!!! I ordered a Buffalo and Apple then realised I should be asking for an application ans so enquired. After chat with the manager I sat down to drink my poison. I then headed home to email Zlata (the manager) my cv. I got a response that was very positive bar, and here is a little tip to getting a job, make sure the employer remembers you by doing something -0 like i don't know say, don't pay for your beverage.

Then it was back to the highly unorganised and stressful grind that is a new 'high end' restaurant/jazz bar. Only now the place seemed a little worse as I had the seed of a new prospect planted in my mind and was looking for any chance to duck out of the pretenious hellhole. Only it wasn't so easy, I was still currently owed 250 pounds by employer! And with getting to know the snake's personality better I figured that if I was to leave without obtaining the cash I wouldn't see it at all. I decided to play the deceiving git at his own game and exacted my own machiavellian trick. With my 67hr weeks payday wage (a princely sum of £400) I was back in the money. Now all I had to do was pray that I got the new job, and I would be free of the workhouse. Zlata eventually emailed me with the response I was looking for and thus could begin planning my escape. And with the readies in the bin I decided to celebrate with a spending spree, not down oxford street or even to buy anything of material value. What I had in mind was much more important.

to be continued...

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Listening to: Ray LaMontagne - Trouble
via FoxyTunes

My News, Reviews and Should Does!

2008-10-31T00:01:00.008Z

This article will feature my first film review purely because I am wanting to write about films in general and as I ventured to the cinema today I might as well write about it. But on top of that there is the usual news of what has been happening in my new life down here in the Big Smoke and also an update on how my screen writing is going.

Ok so first, as I like to be as chronological as I can be, I will give a brief run down on the the best things I remember that have happened to me in the past few days. So... the first bit of news is, I worked on Tuesday. Yeah I know that's what I thought too, work, work ,work thats all you do, give us something different - and as soon as my genius is discovered I promise you I will - but this particular shift at work was different, to a degree I still had to serve alcohol. However when I turned up it was revealed to me that there was a stand up comedy night on that night, which was a welcomed change of pace. So I am just doing my thing pouring pints, muddling mint etc etc, when out of nowhere a face I recognise walks to the bar and asks for a water. I stayed cool and served him the water then headed up to the kitchen to collect a cover, where I met my manager and had to confirm the face I recognised was in fact the face I thought it was. I was right, the face was none other than comedian Iain Lee, many may not recognise the name but for me and my school friends he was a legend, one half of the presenting duo of the satirical news programme The 11 O'Clock Show. A programme that launched many house hold names including Ali G and Ricky Gervais. In fact Iain is probably the least successful of them all but for me he could well have been Robert De Niro!! I obviously very cool and collected asked him for his autograph which he obliged me with, then I was his opening gag in the show.

With no work to go to on Wednesday I decided I would attempt to make my own pasta, as I have recently learnt how to do this. With no proper tools I had to blag the needed utensils from neighbours and once I had a rolling pin I was cooking on gas. The pasta was a success and I will try my best to make it whenever possible as it is a very satisfying process. The method? I hear you ask, it's actually bloody easy!! Take 100 grams of plain flour and sieve it to a fine grain or if you can find it filo '00' flour is the best to use and 1 large free range egg will make enough pasta for one person so 400g of flour and 4 eggs will serve 4 but I'd compensate a few more hundred grammes and a couple more eggs for safety.

Right so sieve the flour, create a well in the flour then add the pre-whisked eggs into the well in small increments and knead the egg with the flour whilst adding more egg mix until the eggs are completely mixed with the flour. Knead this mixture for a while in the bowl to create dough and allow some sort of chemical reaction take place this is vital to the pasta coming out well so take your time and just work at the dough. Now here is where you could do with a pasta machine but if you don't have one no worries you just need some elbow grease. Take the now mixed dough and create tennis ball sized dough balls. Then just grab your rolling pin and get rolling baby!! you need the dough to be as thin as possible. Once you are at this point all that is left is to fold the sheet of 'pasta' into rolls and then cut them into strips. Voila you now have home made pasta as when you unravel these strips you have tagliatelle!!

Ok so now on to the review, and no it's not the new Bond film I'm afraid but Ghost Town, Ricky Gervais's latest Hollywood attempt. So... call me old fashioned but what the hell happened to a good old scary bloody movie at Halloween??? This film had it's moments - the best being the credit sequence, a variety of close up shots of dental equipment with a Beatles soundtrack. I will admit I may be biased towards this film as I want to watch Burn After Reading but buckled to peer pressure. Burn After Reading even if it was as bad as The Ladykillers (In Coen terms - as it is a half decent film) would I feel have been leagues ahead of this middle of the road comedy. The only thing that stopped me from walking ou the vestibule in the cinema before handing over my hard earned £10 for a ticket was the fact that Gervais always intrigues me, I have been a fan since he was the bitter reporter on The 11 O'Clock Show. Then with genius series both in the form of The Office and Extra's he cemented his place in my favourite british comedians of late.

However although it was Gervais that made me laugh in this film he just seems to look out of place in a Hollywood movie. It seems to cheapen his genius, and although he does play the same person all the time - which I think is generally just Ricky - it work so much more when set and made in England. Bitterness is our motto after all. The rest of the cast were good, but I wish that it had been a little bit more like The Sixth Sense rather than Casper. The film just lacked, well pretty much everything, the dialogue was ok - I feel Gervais had a hand in many of his own lines - but the plot, the plot was dire and the cinematography was average at best. Koepp I think should stick to the scripts, which I think he is one of the best in the industry at the moment, but his directing on Ghost Town was as though he was just following the motions or painting by numbers, which is a shame as with Secret Window and Stir of Echoes David Koepp seemed to show a lot of promise in the directing game.

Overall I found that Ghost Town would be a film I might flick over to on Television and watch for a few cheap laughs before getting on to more serious comedy with Jeremy Kyle.

Finally, I have be tweaking my feature script Hooligan ready for this comp but now have discovered I will no way be able to afford the entry fee due to my boss going back on his word and me myself having to scrape together every penny for my own place down here in London. But on the good news side I have just answered the door to my temporary residence to find a neighbour asking for his sieve back ( I borrowed it for the pasta) It turns out that Geoff, the guy asking for the sieve back his a tenant to a retired barrister who has now turned to script writing himself and also has a few actor/celebrity friends, so I have invited myself over to make them some fresh pasta soon and I hope me and the landlord Ian get along as I would love to have another writer I can talk to about my work. Also with having a few choice actor friends I might, just might be able to get a script to the next level of development after my laptop!!!

Peace, Love and a Banana

JQ

Oh, and as an after thought my should does this week are, redraft Hooligan once and for all, or until the next time. Finish Deceitful Dead and contact Tom regarding the book adaptation and short micro budget film. just in case you were wondering.

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Listening to: Noah And The Whale - Rocks & Daggers
via FoxyTunes

Life On A Sofa

2008-10-26T12:17:00.005Z

Well hello again,

It would seem that almost another week has passed now and I haven't had the chance to inform you about all sorts of certain crazinesses I have encountered down here in London as I come to the end of my first month.

But I will do a quick fire recap of the stuff I have left out. Last Sunday was a crazy shift in the temporary bar I'm working in, its an all day after party for all the party monsters and pill heads who just need one more day of house music as Friday and Saturday just aren't enough, my shift was a 12 hour bad boy and although the guys behind the bar are good fun, man it was a long day!!
Monday I was in work again and this was the pole opposite, I served three people in 5 hours.
Tuesday was fun, had a day off plus a gig and rather an eventful evening. It started with going along to a friends gig, I hadn't seen the said friend - Dom - in about 6 years. This made seeing the gig even better. I also met up with another friend who also I haven't seen in a long while, he is on the media ladder as well as trying to make a go of stand up comedy. But back to the evening, the band were Life In Film and they were the best of all the acts to come on that night. To sum up their sound very briefly, I would say that they sounded like a brighter, cheerier Kings Of Leon. I had rounded up a few friends to come along and once the gig had finished my friend Jas wanted to head out and drink some more with her friends as well two aussie guys she had met. So I suggested that we hit up Angel. Which we did, arriving at Slim Jims I headed for the bar got my drink, sat down and awaited the others to join me.
However whilst I was waiting two burley guys approached me and then didn't leave. Conversation started up and I learnt that they were Tottenham Hotspurs supporters, to which I dished out some footy piss taking banter, to which I got the response 'We might have a shit team on the pitch mate, but we've got the hardest terraces' I'm not sure how true this statement but I wasn't going to argue. It turns out these two were real life East-End gangsters!! In fact one of them was facing a two year stretch in November for armed robbery, they were proper wide boys talking up the life they lead 'I've got scars here and here and been stabed twice', and telling me how much they loved their kids. Any sane person would have made excuses and left, but I was fascinated with these two and wanted to have a mild character study so I used all my charm and barman banter to stay afloat with these two. It was scary but fun and they were actually good fellas you just don't want to get on their wrong side.
Wednesday was a standard piss up with the lads I'm living with so of to the waterfront and vodka aplenty, and again the bus journey home was a good one.
The next eventful day was Thursday when I met up with an old face from my time in the North, Clare, an ex girlfriend who I had an amazing summer with in 2005. She has just applied for a job here in London too and so we just met to have a chat and tea briefly although she was very tired due to the running around she had been doing. It was good to see another familiar face down here and a good afternoon was had.
Friday after it was back to the grind of the bar for the weekend.

With my week explained I will now talk about my other life, the writer. I have finished the first draft of a short comedy. Dead Dog Afternoon, which is supposed to be based on a true story but I get a sinking feeling it is actually just an urban legend. Either way though it is funny and worthwhile making a short out of, even if just to make a fucking film as it seems like an age since I was directing something. So I have sent it off to a few people I know who can help and would be willing to work hard to get the film made, two of which will also have the core equipment thus bringing the budget down - it will be a micro budget anyway so free stuff is always good.

I am now waiting to hear back from people to say that they enjoyed the script and are keen to help, either that or that it sucks ass. On top of this I have researched a few competitions and found a couple worth having a a stab at. The first being a feature screenplay competition, for this I am going to send in my labour of love for the past two years - Hooligan - Now being redrafted AGAIN so I hope this will have some punch with the judges, if not well whats £85 to chase a dream? If the script wins the film gets made and I find my foot in the door. The second is a documentary comp, with Fourdocs/Channel 4, and the premise is that I have to make a trailer for my pitched documentary loosely based on the title 'Beautifully Engineered' - I am going to go with the human body. The prize is a £5000 camera to call my own. So please wish me luck.

I am still living on a fucking sofa, I love these lads I share the house with and I can't thank them enough for allowing me the opportunity to live in London. But I do now want a bed to call my own!!! I am just having to wait on my boss as he is housing me and three chefs together. Finally the new bar - Lena, the jazz bar I was supposed to be working in when I got down here is to open very soon, I am going to get measurements for my uniform today and hopefully will be shaking cocktails there in the next week.

Peace
JQ

A Quick Update

2008-10-21T02:55:00.002+01:00

Right I have had a hectic weekend at work - as I need to fund this dream chasing somehow. Will fill you in on the ins and outs of my weekend tomorrow but wanted to just post a wee bit now as I am bored and can't sleep, bar work is a good way to find new characters but it doesn't do any favours to your body clock!!

However in this boredom I have just read two emails to lift my spirits some more about my choice to head down here. Firstly and I know this sounds a little pathetic but I have just received a friend invitation (no not on facebollocks) but on the reviewing site I have started writing for by what appears to be the sites creator - Alex. Ok so he probably does it with everyone who writes on the site but it made me feel a bit special and noticed, like the little geeky kid at the school dance who somehow manages to get a dance with the hottest girl at school purely by chance or intoxication. Not that I know anything about that, honest.

Secondly, and this is very exciting for me - I have been contacted by someone I applied to via Gumtree about a Cameraman position, and ok I won't be getting paid for the work but at least I have the chance to play with my favourite toys again - cameras. And it's all experience and CV material and right now I could do with both!! I might not get the gig (which is a slight pun as the job will entail filming bands playing live and also interviews with bands) but I have been asked for a number and I am now just waiting to get the call like a giddy teenager.

Well thats all folks. All thats left is to rehash that old adage 'Fortes fortuna adiuvat' or for those not up to date with their Latin 'Fortune favours the brave'.

Peace, Love and a Banana
JQ

A Critic Is Born

2008-10-17T15:35:00.002+01:00

After not moving from the sofa I am currently calling my bed all day on Wednesday I decided that Thursday had to be more proactive. So I headed for some free exhibitions that required reviews on the site I have signed up to - Spoonfed.co.uk - in order to add a few lines to my professional CV, which at the moment is a little sparse due to the last stuff I have done was at university. And so now I am officially a critic, although I will always try to find the good in what i review as I hate bitter critics. My film reviewing career is still awaiting a confirmation from the other site -thesmellofnapalm.com - but I am able to start reviewing the arts and so that is what I did with my first half of the day.

Two exhibitions took my fancy and they were both in the same area so I decided I'd write a double bill to get the ball rolling. First was the Museum of Childhood and the photographer Tom Hunter's 'Are You Being Served?' exhibit. I chose this as it was an anthropological look at the area I now call home through photos, and thought it would be a cool way to learn about the history of the area. Traveling to the exhibition I thought that it would be the stereotypical white wall gallery type thing. But arriving at the museum I was proved wrong, the walls to start with weren't white and secondly the museum wasn't the usual silent wandering as it was overrun with excited children running amok. The exhibit itself too was different to what I was expecting. There were just sixteen photographs mounted in two rows of eight inches apart from each other, with no information or names just the photographs. This I think added to the piece as it really felt crammed, much like London itself and with the hustle and bustle of the kids it actually felt as though you were on a busy street looking in to the shops that had been photographed. The photo's were superbly composed and had a grimy and claustrophobic feel to them.

The next exhibit I headed for had me foaming at the mouth, it was an exhibition of Factory Records vinyl artwork. Factory Records having been the company who signed and released some of my favourite bands albums I was really excited. Only to be let down as first of all it took me almost an hour to find the poky little gallery, so small in fact that I actually walked past it. Then out of the corner of my eye as I had just about given up I saw the contours of white lines resembling mountains on a black background which also looks like a graphic equaliser or sound waves. Instantly recognised it as Joy Divisions' Unknown Pleasures album and knew I had discovered the treasure trove. Only to have my melon twisted - see what I did there - as although it was 2pm and the exhibition was supposed to be open from 11am to 6pm the door was locked with no one insight to tell me why. I had to make do with peering through the windows like a child staring at the latest must have toy.

With my work for the day done I returned home and waited to meet up with some very good friends from my university days. This was amazing, we all just got right back into talking and laughing with no awkwardness. We had a ball as we went for drinks around Islington, boosting my morale as we went. Vicky had just returnedto England after travelling Europe with her twin sister so they were full of weird and wonderful anacdotes from there adventure. Jen is in London with similar goals to me, she has just arrived in London and is trying to carve a career in Graphic Design so we just talked about how leaving our safety nets of home and heading to the Big Smoke was the scariest but best move we could have done. It really was good for my soul to see people I care for deeply and hear that they were all doing well and enjoying life.

Today I decided to start the gears turning on a micro budget short I have been working on, and managed to get a few friends involved along with a HD edit suite and two HD cameras. I don't plan on shooting this film until Dec/Jan but like a military procedure the key is Preparation, Preparation, Preparation. The film will be a tongue in cheek black comedy entitled Dead Dog Afternoon and based on afriends true story that is so surreal it sounds untrue. Now I am just sitting waiting to go to my day job, all bunged up and feeling sorry for myself with man flu. But quietly confident that soon I will be making waves on the film making scene. Don't confuse my self confidence with arrogance though, I am fully aware that millions try and only a few succeed. I'm just shooting for the moon and hopefully I'll hit the moon.

Peace
JQ

Devil Makes Work For Idle Thumbs

2008-10-15T22:37:00.002+01:00

I have done sweet FA today. Absolutely nothing, today was a holiday, my very own digapony where I can celebrate anything I want. And today I chose to celebrate lethargy. I sat for hours with my guitar which was the most creative I got, trying to match chords to the lyrics I have written. This song is my baby, the first song I am proud of, still unfinished in both lyrics and music but it is fucking awesome.

On top of that I have signed up for to some review websites based in London, as sitting staring at Faceshite all day seemed a waste. So I put the Internet to good use and got myself 'out there' without having to go out there. The genius behind this plan is I should never have to pay to go to the cinema, exhibitions or even gigs again whilst in London and so I will one, save money, and two, keep up to date with what is being produced in the way of films (both arthouse and mainstream), music and art. Thus staying intune with modern culture, which helps when trying to break into modern culture.

But in all fairness I have been pretty lax today. Tomorrow will be more productive and then Friday I get my own room.

I Am The Resurrection

2008-10-15T02:26:00.009+01:00

Well it has been an age since I last updated this here little blog. I will endeavour to make sure this does not happen again.

Now on with the news and there have been a couple of relatively huge changes, particularly to do with my location. I have quit my job as Bar Supervisor in Leicester and taken the plunge into the Big Smoke, thats right in London baby!! There is no glamour in this move however, I haven't been discovered and relocated by a high flying Agency or Production Company, I just simply needed a change. Shock to my system if you will, something to make me realise once more that I control my life and I can change its path whenever I choose.

It's been a fucking expensive new direction though, obviously I realised that this would be the case. The extremity of this price change I could have never predicted though, not even with the 'oh mate it's expensive down there you know' or 'well make sure you have savings'. But after spending two weeks living here I know now that this city just has a way of sucking money out of you, and you don't even realise it's gone. You are literally having to pay to stand still it would seem. But money is irrelevant, especially so right now as the whole worlds economy is in turmoil. I need direction that is all, it costs me nothing to write, I just need to have a plan. The plan is still to be devised, but there was no doubt that London had to be the HQ for my objectives to work.

All ready I can feel my creative juices flowing again, everywhere is new and alien to me. No more of the same monotonous journey to work, no more bland days that blur into one another. This is my new chapter, a fresh start. This is my adventure, and just the beginning at that. My first week here has been an assault on my senses. People watching in London is amazing, especially on the tube, wondrous moments happen in those mechanical worms. Love, anger, envy, frustration, jubilation, embarrassment they are all there to be witnessed and feed the idea farm in my noggin. Strange and debauched nights out or house parties allow me to meet and talk to all sorts of people with a frank openness of knowing that no-one really knows me or what my angle is.

All in all, London was a much needed move and I can live on nothing for a wee bit longer, after all it's what I'm used to and when 'you ain't got nothing, you've got nothing to lose.', as Bob Dylan once said. My writing started to slip as working as management at the Lansdowne really began to drain all my energy. But now after a few weeks of pure rest (with a little work at a new bar, just as a barman) my edge is back and I am almost firing on all cylinders all it should take is a few more days of this new 'world' and to grease the writing gears slowly back from the rusty cogs that they have become with some shorts films and poetry and I should be back on form before the end of the month. I hear you whine, excuses excuses, and maybe you are right to some degree, maybe I have been procrastinating just a little. But by the end of my time at The Lansdowne I was a grey, worker ant with a hollow soul and closed eyes. And trying to be creative with nothing inside and your eyes closed is pretty fucking difficult I can tell you!!

But just recently I have dusted off the old journal to begin my writing rebirth. I have written a song ready for the band to play, when I find them that is. I now have a short film drafted, I am half way through redrafting Hooligan, my labour of love. I have decided to do two things with my zombie/slasher - firstly develop it as a short (approx 20 -30 mins) then expand it into a full feature as I see this a more of a simmering shocker now rather than guts and gore grandiose. And I have also started work on a socially aware television series. Once things have settled, like I have actually moved into my house and have my room rather than crashing on sofas, and I can lock myself away there really should be no stopping me.

It is time for my ideas to become reality and then hopefully the reality of my dreams will follow.

Until tomorrow, farewell comrades.

The Second Coming

2008-06-19T11:18:00.002+01:00

There is always another chance, I will remember that. A script never dies, it just hibernates until a new opportunity arises. I am talking about my Sharps entry that missed the deadline, it has been given a new lease of life with a new competition.

The new competition is the Peter Ustinov Television Scriptwriting Award, the organisers and administrators of the award are based in America but the idea of the award is to motivate upcoming writers worldwide and offer them recognition and encouragement in the field of television script writing. My plan is to enter the script I originally penned for the BBC, there is of course the need to redraft it and make it a little bit more accommodating for the American market.

However my script, Waiting, is set in a train station and I reckon that we all face the same difficulties and torments whilst waiting to get aboard our steel snakes. Us British probably knowing the frustrations better than most with our poor railway service, but the pain is felt all over the world. The main plot focuses on a lost girl and then weaves in and out of other peoples stories as they wait for the train and I feel that the paternal instinct of parents all over the world is the same when it comes to losing their little bambino, so fingers crossed this rehash could work.

In other news, I have almost finished reading the all important book. It has me now, I really like it and things are getting interesting with every paged turned. I can now also see a vague structure to how I would write it up as a screenplay which is a huge weight off my shoulders. But tonight I will have finished the first read through and will start working on rough notes.

Finally my horror script is being a little neglected. Although after reading the book by 2pm today I will jump straight into the flesh eating, paranoia driven short and finish a first draft, which will no doubt need a second and most probably a fifth before I am happy with it.
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Listening to: Toots And The Maytals - 54-46 Was My Number
via FoxyTunes

Dediction To An Artist

2008-06-18T20:45:00.004+01:00

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Listening to: Ian Brown - Goodbye To The Broken (Orchestral Mix)
via FoxyTunes I would like to express my respect to a legend in the film industry who died on Sunday. Stan Winston was one of the people who contributed a lot to my fascination with film from an early age. The films he worked on such as Predator, Terminator 1 and 2, Jurassic Park and Edward Scissorhands were the back bone to my early film experiences. My uncle, Steve, used to let me watch all sorts of films that I shouldn't have watched until I was much older if my mother and the British Board of Film Certification (BBFC) had anything to say about it. His creations fueled my young mind with amazement and awe. Although I didn't really know of him until I was older as his role in films is one that never really gets the glory (unlike directors and actors), his designs and special effects would stay with me forever.

Rest In Peace Stan Winston 1946 - 2008

First Impressions

2008-06-18T15:02:00.004+01:00

I have been reading this book, as much as I can over the past day (in between work and writing for this competition). I have only reached the fifth chapter, and my first impressions of it are that it is good, however the writing style is simple. Which isn't a bad thing at all, I actually enjoy simple writing when it comes to books, however I am also half way through reading The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas. This is a complicated book with very long descriptive paragraphs and so I feel that I need to accustom myself to the flow of this new book before I can really get the most out of it.

But as far as the new book goes I do like it, I enjoy the cockiness and confidence of the narrator. I just wish there was a little bit more description and action explained as it does leave a lot to the reader. The mystery part to it is also good and I feel I that this book will grow on me the more I read it and I plan on finishing the first read through by tomorrow evening. Once I have done this I will let the story sink in, have a dabble at working out what sort of style to put it down into as a script and then reread it. In the reread I will make notes on key points to include in the screenplay and also character traits.

The short screenplay competition entry, Deceitful Dread (which is a play on words to Evil Dead), is going well. I'm really enjoying writing this script as it's a horror/zombie/slasher thing so it can be tongue in cheek and gritty at the same time with good dry/black humour. Allowing the sick side of my imagination to run riot, and as it's only fifteen pages long I can knock out a script in a day then reread it and redraft it for the better. I just need to figure out the best ways to kill off all my characters one by one then hope the judges have a blood lust. But if not I think the idea could work as a feature, this will then become another string to my bow when I aim my arrows at the agents.

But for now it's back to the book.

Eight Days A Week.

2008-06-17T19:41:00.003+01:00

There just doesn't seem to be enough hours in a day, nor enough days in a week for me to do everything that I want to do. So I have drawn up a little 'life rota' to help me achieve my goals. This isn't a strict timetable of how I should live each day, but rather a guide to what I should be doing.

For instance today was work (bar work), play guitar, write this blog, and get at least two scenes down in rough for the short screenplay competition. So far I'm on track but I may hit the guitar again as didn't get enough practice in today. But I have decided that in order to do this (make it as a writer) properly I need to have a regime and stick to it.

But working a day job, or in my case sometimes a night/early morning job (I'm a bar supervisor), is tedious and draining on both the soul and creative widgets in my brain. That said I honestly don't think that there is a better menial job for a writer, working in a bar allows me to meet all sorts of people from down and out drunkards to high flying coke snorting businessmen and everyone in between. I meet the nice ones and get confronted by the nasty ones and all it takes is to look at these people from another point of view to realise that they are all a story, or character or at the very least an accent. Armed with this ammunition I can create realistic dialogue and also call upon descriptions of punters to create characters for my scripts, these elements combined with my imagination can work wonders. But working all day and then trying to do the writing part of my life is hard work, but a worthy sacrifice in the end I hope.

With that rant out of the way, time for a little bit of jubilation!! I did a wee bit of networking last week whilst visiting a friend in London. This wasn't real networking as such but talking to old university friends who have managed to carve their first scratch into the railway sleeper that is the media industry. One of these aforementioned friends is looking into obtaining the rights to a book, as he now works for a film company that does this sort of thing. Both the friend and book will remain nameless at the moment for numerous reasons including; that the deal isn't official yet, mentioning the book's title would tip all you other budding writers out there to the fact that there may be a chance to adapt it (and I don't want the competition) and finally it would be presumptuous and therefore ill fated for me to name names just yet. As soon as this opportunity which I now thank each and everyone of my lucky stars each and every night for does become a more concrete deal you guys will be informed. Pray for me, as it could still all go sour.

Anyway, over my friends Carling and my Caiphrinia I managed to wangle the opportunity to adapt a novel. After searching high and low for the said book in my hometown Leicester to no avail, I have eventually managed to acquire it for 1 pence plus postage from Amazon. It turned up the other day and I will pencil into my 'life rota' to read a few chapters tonight (most probably taking the place of sleep on the rota). A thorough reworking of the rota's plan for tomorrow should give me adequate time to read as much as I can. I need to strike whilst the iron is hot with this bad boy. I have scanned the book and researched the author and like what I'm see, so hopefully this could work out.

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Listening to: Richard Ashcroft - God In The Numbers
via FoxyTunes

Into The Void

2008-06-15T13:26:00.003+01:00

After missing a BBC talent search by a matter of hours (I couldn't find a courier to take my script to London by midday tomorrow, Monday 16th). I regained my shattered esteem and went on the hunt for a new competition, I found two.

The first being the 'Summer Challenge' in which writers are urged to enter feature length scripts with the possibility of the one and only winner having there manuscript turned into an actual film with cinema release and also the possibility of obtaining an actual agent to kickstart their career. This competition is a real boost for me and all other unfound talent as it is only open to those people who haven't got an agent and are desperate to get into the world of writing. Another amazing part of this competition is there is no limit to how many entries each writer can submit, I plan to enter at least two. Hooligan and another one, with the deadline being the end of September I need to start work on the new idea but I do know I will at least have one feature script strong enough to be a contender.

The second being similar but on a much smaller scale, The British Short Screenplay Competition. With maximum length of script being only fifteen pages long or in other words a short film, but it's not the size that matters, it's what you do with it that counts. The deadline for this is very, very close though which makes me weary of the caliber of script I can knock out for this. Luckily I have an original idea that I feel can be turned into a fifteen minute short but it will be a close shave, too fucking close if you ask me. But beggars can not be choosers, nor can they pas up golden opportunities no matter how close they are!!

My way of thinking here is if, and I realise that this is a very big IF, but if my work does win either one of these competitions it will show everyone and their mothers that I am a viable writer who could be a prosperous signing. So I will now spend the next week writing the first draft then go straight into a second draft and then whisk it off to the competition by bareback horse if I have to, as I will be damned if I miss another opportunity so quickly after missing my first.

In The Beginning, There Was Nothing.

2008-06-14T21:41:00.001+01:00

I have decided to start a blog. This is it.

I want to be a writer, a film and TV writer to be specific, and realise that working a poorly paid job and just day dreaming about my career will not allow me to fulfill my ambition. So, the first rule of a writer is to start writing, and here I am, writing.

I have no credentials to speak of, no previous masterpiece that has been put on TV or turned into a feature film. The best I have is a reoccurring dream that I am shaking hands with a sleek and savvy geezer in a suit after just signing my first contract telling this suave son of a bitch he can represent me and whore my words out for me. In short I have nothing but my laptop, a bootleg copy of FinalDraft and a dictionary.

I have a feature film script ready to go, entitled Hooligan, currently sat in it's fourth draft. I think I will give it another draft then do some cold calling on agents. I realise that this is a highly stupid and futile game plan but hey it's better than sitting on my arse waiting for agents to come to me!! Whilst I work on my fifth draft of the feature film, Hooligan, I'll also start typing up some of the other hundred or so ideas I have got bouncing around my cranium or have scribbled on scrap pieces of paper, napkins, receipts, cigarette packets and anything else that has been handy when an idea has sprung to mind. My chicken scratches are my gold, or oil if this modern world is anything to go by.

With my golden nuggets I will the approach the Illuminati (agents), as many as I can confront in a weekend. My plan here is to give them an outstanding cross-section of my aptitude as a writer, meaning that they will get a feature film, a comedy series (as I write this I have one in mind that I've been mulling over for years now) and maybe even a TV drama (one off special or a series depending on how far I can make the concept stretch). This should be all that is needed to convince the powers that be that I'm the next best thing since sliced bread other than spreadable margarine.

This blog will serve as a vent for my frustration when I get knocked back, point out the mistakes I made so others don't have to and follow the ups and downs of my journey into the (paper)cut-throat world of writing.

This is the beginning and I have nothing but an itch, a pitch and a whole lot of dreams. Wish me luck.