Industrial Strength Interview

New interview conducted by Andrew Rivers is up at Byker Books. Check it out. Good questions are asked and crap answers given, as ever. Also peruse the other interviews of Danny King and Max Kinnings. And all the other great stuff on the site.

ARK and Palm Springs

Hello. ARK has been accepted for inclusion in the 2008 Palm Springs International Shortfest, August 21-27. We're not talking Bognor Regis here. We're not talking Scunthorpe, Stranraer or Batley. We are talking Palm Springs. Never has a place name conjured up such images of living la dolce vita. Palm trees, er... springs... it's all there.

As I was saying, ARK has been accepted at the 2008 Palm Springs International Shortfest, August 21-27. This means that YOU will get to watch it if you find yourself in that palmy, springy place. Just to whet your appetite (and to get those filthy images of palms and springs out of your head), here are some pics:






That's ARK, ladies and gents, starring Simone Lahbib and Raffaello Degruttola, directed by Mal Woolford, produced by Andrea Thornton and written by George Lucas. Just kidding.

This is the end

Beau-tiful friend, the end.

No, I'm not getting all apocalyptic on your asses, just wanted to share the two words I typed last night on my novel-in-progress:

THE END

What a relief. A year, this has taken me to do the first draft. A year! But the relief is shortlived, and within minutes you're back in there, chipping away at this big block of stone that vaguely resembles a novel...

I'll tell you what, though - I had a blast drafting it. There are many modes of writing and the first draft is the most fun (and the biggest pain). You're walking into rooms blind, not knowing what you'll find there or how compliant that new character you've cast is going to be. For me at least, going commando-style (ie: working with no visible outline), it's a proper adventure. The real graft begins on draft 2, but there's no recapturing that struggle to get your character's ass out of the flames. Or fully into them, depending on what kind of novel it is.

One more time:

THE END

You missed it

If you were in Peterborough last night you could have caught the world premiere of ARK at the Space4 Film Festival. Due to long-standing commitments I wasn't there, but I hope those who did attend had a good time and enjoyed the film. Any other screenings, I'll be sure to let you know in advance. And maybe be there.

Arrows

Never mind Spain winning the Euros, Manny Pacqiao whipping the ass of David Diaz or Andy Murray reaching the Wimbledon quarters... I just threw two darts at a board in succession - the second landing IN THE TAIL OF THE FIRST. You know that tiny crosshair where the flight goes? That's where No. 2 went! And stayed. It didn't do that crosshair much good, but hey - this is one of those once-in-a-lifetime things. But this is a serious post, and I have a serious question...

What happens in a competitive game when that happens? Has it ever happened?

Am I unique?

Did anyone notice any strange lights in the sky, around 21:10 BST? Maybe some rumblings, like thunder?

Novel writing tip

If you're in the midst of writing a novel, or any other kind of prose, be wary of what you read. Or watch. Books, films and quality TV shows with a strong, distinctive voice can influence your own style. Sometimes in a bad way, but other times for the better. But even if it improves your piece, tread carefully. Plagiarism is a dirty word. Only yesterday, after watching an old DVD, I blanched in horror, ran to the keyboard and opened up my work in progress, CHARLIE WILLIAMS'S OBSCURE LOCATION. Sure enough, there was that line:

"As I rounded the corner I felt muscular and compact. Like corned beef."

It broke my heart to cut such an inspired simile, but imagine if I had noticed it AFTER publication, with the book on millions of shelves around the world and heading for a big Hollywood adaptation starring Benicio del Toro? No, the line had to go. Or at least undergo some changes. So I changed it to:

"As I went round the corner I felt compact and muscular. Like Spam."

Platform games

I was reading this post about screenwriters crossing over to novels on English Dave's excellent telly-writing blog, and it got me thinking. I totally agree, by the way. Stories are stories. If you've got the instinct you can tell them in any format. The only obstacles are technical ones, and you can get over those. Nuff said.

But it was something else (and coffee) that got the brain cells moving. The idea that you get more respect as a novelist than you do as a screenwriter. I would say that, yes, you get some semblance of respect as a novelist. Your name gets printed a lot more and you actually get the public and critical credit for the work you've done. In a weird, slightly anaemic way, you even get some celebrity. Invitations to parties, VIP treatment at festivals, interviews in the papers, foreign travel etc.... I've had all that. But

BUT

No fucking money. Or not much anyway.

Oh yeah, you get paid for everything. And the figures even look good on paper sometimes. But making an actual LIVING out of it? Forget that.

Which makes you look at that "respect" you've been getting and wonder if it is that after all.

Don't get me wrong - I am far from having a go at the paymasters. Mr Market-Forces is right there outside the window. He's a big bad wolf and he'll get you if you're weak. This is not a socialist republic and you can't expect a penny unless that wolf says you're worth it.

But still, writing is work.

If you're one of the few, you'll make a good living from it. I don't count myself in that number yet but I have friends who do. And when I say make a living I mean a sustainable one. Many apparent "successes" get paid a shitload for a first two-book-deal and fuck all thereafter, because the sales weren't up to it. There's a big red number where there should be a big black one.

Game over.

Writing is a bitch, no matter what the platform.

But still we pursue her, running after her with flowers and fine perfumes and rhyming couplets. Because she's captivating and beautiful. And we're tough motherfuckers. Or saps.

Or both.

Top TV #2

What happened to pure comedy? You could never get away with a routine like that these days unless you were taking the piss out of the mere idea that someone might want to do a routine like this. Also, where are all the middle-aged entertainers? I don't mean heritage acts, buts ones who are actually at the top of their game? The Chuckle Brothers?

I loved a lot of 80s alternative comedy but a disastrous side-effect was that it consigned everyone over 40 to irrelevance and grandad status. Unless they dressed like they were under 40, and had hair. Or they could go bald as long as they shaved the remainder off. And wore a black top.

There's an innocence and simple joy in comedy that you don't get so much any more. You've got to work the laughs through five or six layers of knowingness before they make it to TV. But it is possible to circumvent most of those layers. I'll come to that in Top TV #3...

Top TV #1

Stuff

From time to time, when I've nothing better to do, I improve the quality of your lives by giving you a glimpse into the minds of the men and women out there who find this site via google. Here is that glimpse:

3 5.36% make her gag
2 3.57% ass rash
1 1.79% rash on ass
1 1.79% rash on my ass
1 1.79% ass rashes
1 1.79% comics of pity
1 1.79% how to buy fags
1 1.79% david hasselhoff in his 20s

I have no further comment.

4pm

That's what time the fight is. And I'm waiting up for it - Glenfiddich 12yo in my hand. Am I going to make it? Is Joe going to kick the arse of old man Popkins? I just doon't know. One of the p4p best in the world against the most awkward, undisputed. For once, I'm kind of impartial. I love both these guys. I can't call it.

But come on, Joe will win.

PRONG 3: Comics

I have been taking the comics world by storm. Didn't you notice? The way I've been doing it, right, is via black magic. Me and my artistic cohort Jonathan Dukes meet up every now and then in The Plough - which is a very mystical sort of pub - and drink ourselves into a shamanic stupour, helping the mindstate along by throwing out the odd word about Alan Moore or the Hernandez brothers. Then, in our trance-like state, we utter the magic words that, in effect, render the comics world at our mercy. Anything we submit to them for publication, they will accept and treat with reverence. It's just that we haven't finished anything yet. We're busy, OK? I mean, these things take time.

So that's what I'm doing. What are you doing? Does it involve black magic?

Next week: Prong 4...