Three days done… and counting

It feels shallow. It feels unbecoming in a grown man. It’s completely messed up my weekend. But day three of NaNoWriMo sees me with 6,164 words that were not there on Thursday. Right now, I’m 1200 words ahead of my target.

Inspired by the wonderful Murakami, I started with no plan, just wondering where and why the characters exist and where and why they’re going to wherever they end up.  As a long-time screenwriter, it’s been interesting having all these words to play with. Do I think I’ll make 50000 words before the end of the month? No idea. I’m usually pretty good with deadlines but there’s a lot of screenwriting to be done in the day job, so it’s a big ask. But it’s also inspired me to get back to the gym too (thanks Haruki Murakami for that too). I realised that if I had any chance of making it to the end, I was going to have to up my physical fitness. So if for no other reason, it’s already been worthwhile.

Would I recommend it? I’ll tell you in December.

More lies… I hate myself

I really did plan to invest some serious words in this blog. I know I said that and I meant it. But something’s happened. I found this thing… NaNoWriMo 2013. To join in, you have to write a novel in a month; a minimum of 50 000 words in 30 days. Which in my case, will have to be on top of my writing day job.

I only found out about it a few days ago and it’s due to start in exactly two hours. I have no plan, I have only the vaguest of ideas and I have dreadful feeling I’m going to have to give up far too much sleep time… but you know what? What’s the worst…

Meet you back here in December. Probably.

My dog has no knows

So how does she smell?

Incomprehensibly.

Okay, it’s not much of a joke. And my dog really smells quite nice. But I am not here to record my dog’s limited cognitive functioning or odour, I’m here to hint obliquely at matters anthropomorphic.

I noted today, with only slightly mixed feelings, that most of Hollywood’s apes have retired and found a more fulfilling life in the Centre for Great Apes, a sanctuary specially set up for these rather wonderful hairy dudes with former showbiz chops.

I’m genuinely delighted for them. Doing dumbass tricks for human beings is bad enough when your a member of the same species, but it must be an outrageous indignity when you’re a member of a much higher species… like orangutans or chimpanzees. Anyway, good luck to them, I say. But I just want to take this opportunity to say THANK YOU VERY MUCH MONKEY-FACED GUYS, FOR RUINING A SCREENPLAY IDEA OF MINE, WITH YOUR PERFECTLY REASONABLE REQUIREMENTS FOR A HUMANE AND DIGNIFIED EXISTENCE!

Hey, it’s fine. I’ll get over it. Although I have some major rethinking to do regarding that idea. The good news is that there’s always a solution. That’s just one of the many joys of screenwriting. I can do this, and make it even better than it was before. Mind you, as ideas go, it was looking pretty good the way it was… that is until important, real-world morality got in the way. I just need to find a way of making that important, real-world morality my friend.

But just kiddin’ ape dudes, I’m thrilled you’ve got your sanctuary. You deserve it. We owe you. Big time.

And truthfully… my dog knows plenty.

On the importance of love… and somebody else’s informed examination of it.

Love is a big deal. Not least for screenwriters. As a breed, we’re pretty much unloveable in all sorts of ways, and I only attribute being loved to terrible misjudgement on the part of others… very much appreciated misjudgement, it has to be said. However, at some stage in the gestation of almost every screenplay, love raises its ugly head – even if it’s only to be scored off the list of possible subplots. So what is a writer to do if he or she finds themselves wondering if their story needs some lovin’ – be it lover, husband, wife, child, best friend, pet, screenwriter’s own reflection, whatever? Where do we go to expand our expertise in this most fertile of literary territory? (And yes, I deliberately put fertile there… I’m a screenwriter, not some colossus of literary fiction, therefore I can’t resist a cheap almost-funny.)

Sure, you can watch a few films, read a few screenplays, or read a lot of books and see how other writers handled it. Or else you can do a bit of academic research. Do what we should always do when we face a problem, any problem, all of our problems… turn to a philosopher. It’s what I do… enchilada or fajita? Can’t decide? I’ll just check in with Jean Paul Satre and he’ll ease me through the problem, probably by advising me that since he reckons I have no other sensible purpose on this earth other than to make choices, maybe I should avoid pissing off the waiter and just choose fajita like I always do. Sorted. See? Or that should be voila!)

Satre, a man with frog-like good looks (no, not because he’s French, do you think I’m an idiot? See above), and his existential partner in love and various sexual misdemeanours Simone de Beauvoir, are probably not the best sources of help when trying to get to grips with your latest romcom, but don’t worry, help is at hand. Alain de Botton is a very smart man. He is also incredibly, incredibly rich, as the offspring of a Swiss financier, but I’m not going to let that get in the way of my admiration of him… the bastard! (To be fair, apparently, he doesn’t touch his inheritance but chooses to live of his own earnings… but that must be a much easier choice to make when you have millions and millions available as a safety net… and you’re a brilliant academic with a double first from Cambridge University. Really, what’s not to hate about this guy?)

So this wealthy, brilliant guy (thank God he’s no looker!) has written an interesting book on love. It’s wittily called On Love, and it’s a novel, although it reads like non-fiction. I don’t think it’s a great novel but it’s an enjoyable, sometimes funny, sometimes touching read, packed with the sort of academic, philosophical scrutiny of infatuation, jealousy, broken hearts and almost every other aspect of love that a lazy screenwriter needs to avoid doing the research himself.

Buy it at your local bookstore, or if you really don’t care enough about the survival of your local bookstore (mea culpa), you can also buy it here http://www.amazon.com/On-Love-Novel-Alain-Botton/dp/0802142400. Or borrow it… or even steal it. FFS, he doesn’t need the money.

Selective or defective?

http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/11/20/daily-routines-writers/

I don’t watch much. I probably don’t watch enough. I don’t go to the cinema very often. I don’t really follow TV shows with any great dedication. I don’t even watch many films online. I’m picky. I filter. I read a lot. I listen to music almost all the time. I do browse constantly. I watch people. I hang out. I do stuff. Not amazingly interesting stuff. Just stuff. So does this make me a bad person? Am I inhibiting my career as a screenwriter? Perhaps. But it certainly doesn’t inhibit me having ideas. I have lots of them. A number of producers and broadcasters have even paid me money for them. So they can’t all suck.

This isn’t something new for me. I’ve always been selective/lazy about what I watch or listen to. I know what I like and I know what I don’t like, and I tend to stick with what I think I’ll like or admire. I can even get annoyed with things that disappoint and feel resentful for having given up time for them. And even with films I like, I find watching too many of them clutters my brain. I’m often struck, when I spend time with people who are big, watch-everything movie fans, that they reference everything in terms of other movies. Their encyclopaedic knowledge of their preferred genres sometimes appears to make them narrow and conservative in their approach to their work. When I hear what they’re working on, it sometimes seems too referential and lacking in originality. Obviously that isn’t always the case. Plenty film buffs are great writers and directors and able to come up with far more original ideas than me. I just know I’ll never make it going down that route. Maybe it’s just that my brain’s too small to hold all that information and still come up with ideas.

I watch films for two main reasons: it’s something I know I’m going to enjoy (or at least think there’s a very good chance I’m going to enjoy it), or else I’m watching it to inform something I’m thinking about or planning writing. I say that safe in the knowledge that I don’t steal other people’s ideas. That would be perverse, as the reason I’m a writer is the luxury of being able to explore my own ideas. If anything, I can be overly precious about keeping them isolated from other influences. However, I’m usually interested in seeing how someone better than me has approached a subject. Sometimes that can be inspiring, sometimes it can be disappointing, sometimes it can just be a couple of hours watching a film. But it’s usually an active choice; it’s not just watching whatever comes along.

Now I’m not recommending this as a way to be, I’m just saying this is how I am. I often think I should see more films and I sometimes worry my writing is diminished by my unfamiliarity with so much cinema. Then I consider my writing process and realise it’s never about, “Remember that cool bit in that film…” Instead, it’s always about what’s happening with these specific characters, in this specific world. As I try to create that on the page, I’m just not somebody who’s comfortable going to other films for the answers. Anyway, if I get stuck, it’s no problem… I can always just ask the film buff guys, and happily, they all LOVE to talk about films.

So why now lazy man?

Sigh. I feel a bit embarrassed doing this right now. I’m supposed to be a professional writer. Albeit a not very well paid or especially busy professional writer but it’s still my day job. Sort of.

So why am I arriving so late at the blogging party? After all, I’m about five years too late to be cutting edge, so it’s like all the tasty blogging party snacks have been eaten and only crumbs and nasty stuff are left over and all the good beer has gone so now I’m left sipping shitty, warm lager and wishing I’d come to the party much earlier. The answer is in the title. I’m sick of being a lazy writer, so I’m planning making a public display of my lethargic approach to my chosen career and in doing so, shame myself into greater focus. Not a bad plan, is it? I mean, nobody has to read this shit, do they? I can just share some confessional crap with the great unknown and feel a tiny little bit better as a result. At least that’s what I hope will happen. And if, as I wallow in occasional outbursts of self-loathing and regret, I manage to offer anything useful or entertaining to the casual reader then I shall be glad… happy to be of service.

In these various postings I’ll probably talk mainly about screenwriting, a bit about being a small-scale producer, some stuff about wishing I did a lot more directing, too much stuff about music (my real love), probably a bit about animation (a subject I don’t know much about despite having been involved with it for over a decade now), some stuff about the pretty city I live in, the silly business I co-run and some esoteric stuff that will stray occasionally into the metaphysical and then, hopefully not too often, stray further into the downright wanky.

On a more selfish and self-serving note, I shall also try and document progress or, more usually, lack of progress on various projects I’m working on. Again, these are mainly small scale projects although they include a couple of feature film projects with an Academy Award nominated producer, some big budget spec features in various stages of under-development, several indie-level (ie hardly any budget) comedies in various stages of narrative disarray, a couple of TV projects, short films, adverts and, if and when I’m lucky, the occasional music promo. Oh yes… and some songs. I play in a couple of bands with other people who are old enough to know better… but happily still do it. Kind of grungy, punky, alt-country type stuff.

So… here goes.