Come on, ‘fess up; who’s been waiting eagerly for my return?
None of you? Really?
Oh.
Okay, fine. Sod you then.
I’ve been having a great time. Thank you all for your congratulations on the last post, they’re all much appreciated. So far Alice is a very laid back baby …
She tends to sleep more than she whinges and we’re all feeling very rested and happy.
I haven’t done a scrap of writing in the last two weeks and I’m itching to get back into it. The next week’s already mapped out and a few other projects are lurking in the wings waiting for a spare day or two to shine.
Although I’ve been bone idle for fourteen whole days, things have been ticking over in my absence and stuff has been happening without any extra effort from me. In the last two weeks:
1)Fleeced started shooting. This is my third feature to go into production this year and I can’t help thinking one every two months isn’t a bad average. The cast includes George Calil, Alan Convy and Natasha White; and it’s directed by Humaira Shah … beyond that I don’t really know anything. I’ll post more info as and when I get it.
2) An old project, one I thought long since dead, has resurfaced and threatens to spring into life once more. I was so convinced this one was dead it hasn’t even crossed my mind for months; but apparently there is a way forward. Wheels have been set in motion, steam is building up and I’m currently wandering the globe (or at least the UK … and by email, which probably doesn’t count as wandering) trying to get the band back together.
3) An extremely well established project, one which had got so far down the line it didn’t seem feasible it could go wrong, has gone wrong. Sort of. In the best traditions of the industry it threatened to implode in a frenzy of incompetence, political bullshit and bitchy back-stabbing. Although, that may have all been sorted now.
4) I got an invite to a screening of The Wrong Door, which takes place next week. I’m looking forward to this as I have absolutely no idea of what to expect. The weird thing about working on a sketch show is you don’t know what any of the other material will be like or how much of it will be yours. To be fair, I have read a handful of other sketches from other writers; but I’ve no idea if any of them made the final cut.
And 5) I got a few quotes in an article on TwelvePoint.com, written by our very own Lucy. Since this article was featured on the very first day of the launch of this fantastic new site; I’m chuffed to have at least got a vague mention. Probably not quite as chuffed as Lucy to have actually written the article; but chuffed none-the-less.
And that’s about it. Isn’t that enough considering I’ve done nothing for two weeks?
Oh, and to back up Stuart Perry’s post about Cyril Connolly’s quote “The pram in the hallway is the enemy of art” …
I think I can honestly say the last week has been the worst of my fledgling career so far. Horrible just about sums it up; but doesn’t really convey the gut-wrenching fear, disappointment and rage which left me on the verge of tears.
And by ‘verge of tears’ I mean ‘bawling my eyes out, lying curled up on the bathroom floor, wrapped in tin foil and screaming for my mummy’.
Why tin foil?
I don’t know, that’s how upset I was.
Still, it seems to be almost over now and life is becoming sunny again. I may blog about it at some point, but probably not. It’s all a bit embarrassing and totally my fault.
So instead I’m going to talk about some random shit I was too numb to notice during the last seven or eight days.
Like on Monday, when I visited one of the locations for K and watched the fight choreographer put some of the actors through their paces. There were swords and tonfa and … well that’s all I saw; but they were being flung around all over the shop.
Or night club, I suppose.
Then we visited a rooftop location to discuss how we’re going to throw an actor off without it costing too much.
I think hiring twins is the answer.
One who can act and the other who’s suicidal.
I’ve finally discovered what the issue was with the difference in page count - it turns out Final Draft fixed a bug which added the odd blank line into the script. I was running 7.1.1 on my desktop (104 pages) and 7.1.3 on my laptop (102 pages) - which is not a problem until you lock the script for production and suddenly it all goes haywire.
I’m away from home a lot and need to be able to work on the script from both machines.
The solution?
Well, the best solution would have been to update my desktop; but the production team have all been working from the 104 page version. So solution number 2 is to uninstall Final Draft from my laptop and reinstall the older version.
Great, then I can work on the script while I’m out and about.
Except … no, wait. There was a reason why I updated the laptop - it’s running Windows Vista and Final Draft 7.1.1 won’t save as PDF in Vista.
So now I have a script I can work on, but no way of sending it.
Ah, no! I can print the revised pages using a PDF printer (CutePDF - because I like the name).
Okay, now we’re cooking.
Except no, the director can’t open pages printed to PDF, only ones saved as PDF.
Why?
Who fucking knows?
So now I have to send the CutePDF printed pages out to the First AD for distribution, with a one page per scene version for the continuity person.
I’m sure she has a technical name, but I don’t know what it is.
Then I have to email the Final Draft version back home so Mandy can save it as PDF and send it back. Then I can send it to the director.
Yay!
No.
Bugger.
For some reason the text is mostly green. Green is the current revision colour, but it shouldn’t save green text into PDF.
Now I’m really confused; and, as some of you may have noticed, wittering on about PDF formats to stop myself thinking about …
I thought the competition had disappeared up its own arse, until I found this. Hmm, did Mike Figgis really enter this competition?
I received the following notes about a feature film which was due for imminent production:
“We want the two Cuba Gooding Jnrs to be African tribesmen, one a medicine man and one a chief, who Tom Jones promised jobs as Traffic Wardens.”
“there is a mine of comedy related to having a dragon spunk bomb explode up your ass and the consequences thereof.I would encourage you to pursue that line of thought”
“I’ve got this animatronic stag’s head…”
and my favourite:
“Tom Jones should be more like Idi Amin.”
The film still hasn’t been made.
All in all, January was a bit of a failure. The only really positive bit was buying a board to cover with brightly coloured index cards.
I quite enjoyed that bit.
FEBRUARY
Feb kicked off with the Gothenburg Film Festival where, against all odds, The Evolved was being screened. It went down really well and even sold out; I fucked up my first Q&A and still got asked for an autograph by a deranged Japanese fan.
Upon my return, I decided to be more proactive and use one of my cinema contacts to arrange a screening of the film in the UK.
Still haven’t done that.
I somehow got bombarded with scripts from people who wanted feedback. Why did they choose me? Who knows. I tried to oblige for a while, but it was getting on my nerves and taking up far too much time - so I said no and it all stopped.
Christ, all this seemed much more exciting at the time.
MARCH
I lost £90,000 of money I hadn’t even received when a potential feature film budget got cut in half.
Bollocks.
On the plus side, the feature still hasn’t been produced so I haven’t actually lost any of the money I haven’t received.
Not much consolation.
I spent four hours watching someone light a bottle of whiskey and wrote an advert for scented hemorrhoid cream.
And got paid for both of them.
I decided to stop telling lies and remove all the bullshit from my CV.
Chameleon, a martial arts feature film, disappeared up its own arse. No one told me, I found out by accident.
I fought a man whilst dressed as a granny. To be fair, he was dressed as a granny too.
He won.
I decided, rather randomly I thought, to send a script into the BBC Writersroom.
They didn’t like it.
And that was pretty much all I did in March.
Depressing, isn’t it?
APRIL
Ah, right. April must be where it started to get better …
No.
Someone described The Evolved as a “new low for the British Empire”.
I’m quite proud of that.
One of my sketches featured in a ‘Best of …’ thing, despite me not having entered the competition.
That was quite special.
I offered a brief rant about bloggers cloaking themselves in anonymity whilst simultaneously trying to promote their writing … and the next day hordes of people (very small hordes, possibly just two people) revealed their real names.
I’d like to take credit for that, but I suspect it was just a coincidence.
I had a meeting with Don Allen about writing a film for him. I was on top form in that meeting … I babbled incoherently about random things until we ran out of time; and … HOLY SHIT! I got that job.
Cool.
A week later I met Jonathan Sothcott about him using one of my short scripts in a horror anthology - five shorts in one feature. He had my script, one other and needed three more. I pitched six ideas, he loved five of them enough to not even bother contacting the other writer and upped the film to six shorts in one feature.
He turned out to be Martin Kemp’s business partner and between them they knew enough people to pack the film full of celebs.
DOUBLE HOLY SHIT WITH CHOCOLATE MONKEYS ON TOP!
I was right, things did get better in April.
MAY
May kicked off with a bout off contract signing.
Cool.
The BBC Writersroom included me on their blogroll. I was one of nine links then, there’s only ten now - so I’m quite chuffed by that.
Thank you Mr … am I allowed to mention your name? Or will that provoke howls of jealousy from other non-linked-to writers?
I’ll just leave it, you know who you are.
I wrote all six segments of the horror anthology which became known as ‘The Summoning’.
I went to Cannes: crashed a car; crashed some parties, got some expensive dinners bought for me; nearly spent 23,000 Euro on a poker table (not gambling, I nearly bought it in a charity auction); got harrangued by a producer who kept asking innane questions; met some nice people; saw one shit film and spent an obscene amount of money.
Was it worth it?
No.
JUNE
Swore a lot.
Met Martin Kemp.
Walked into a lamp post.
None of these things are connected.
Poured Diet Coke into my laptop.
Optioned another feature film.
Got upset about stamps.
Killed a character because his name started with the wrong letter.
Got my phone bill from Cannes.
Cried about my phone bill from Cannes.
Briefly believed a Welsh woman was an Indian man in a kilt …
AND THEN SOME FUCKING CUNT POURED TEA INTO MY LAPTOP.
Okay, so I poured a teensy, tiny bit of Diet Coke into it a few days earlier; but this guy poured a whole cup tea in and then fucking denied it.
Son of a bitch.
Bastard fucking son of a bitch.
Bastard fucking whore-mongering, cock sucking, son of a bitch.
Oh, and I submitted some sketches to the BBC on a friend’s recommendation.
JULY
Karma Magnet was filmed, starring Gary Kemp and Adele Silva; and directed by Martin Kemp.
I wasn’t there.
The whole laptop saga kicked off. Read all about it here, here and here.
Mentioned to the world about how nice my wife’s breasts were.
Met a load of the fellow bloggers for the first time, most of whom didn’t believe I exist.
And … um … that’s all I did in August.
Pathetic, isn’t it?
SEPTEMBER
A new first for me, I turned down some paid work.
And then obsessed about it for monthsweeks … a bit.
Had a request for more sketches from the BBC and bought a toasted sandwich maker to celebrate.
Was sick from eating too many toasted sandwiches.
Slagged off writers in general, for no good reason.
Hit myself in the face with a big bastard sword.
And then fell asleep in a meeting at the BBC.
A particularly good month, I thought.
OCTOBER
Got a bit upset about mobile phones in movies.
Found out the BBC meeting didn’t go quite as badly as I thought.
Wrote a feature film in five days.
Swore never, ever to do it again.
Shouted at the BBC producer for not using script writing software - haven’t spoken to him since.
Met Gary Kemp.
One of the potential feature films got cancelled … and became something a lot, lot cooler which I still can’t talk about.
Wet myself with excitement.
And finally reached saturation point with projects and had to start turning down work in earnest. I turned down a lot of work in October - if you’re one of the rejected: sorry.
NOVEMBER
Wrote a factually, morally and in every other way just plain wrong rant about the term ‘Continuing Drama’.
Got asked to write a treatment for a feature which included the words nudity, vampire, caribbean and Nazis.
That was fun.
Had a cup of tea ruined by an explosion in an airport.
That wasn’t so fun.
And found out the BBC sketch show is using some of my stuff and wants to cast someone really, really exciting in my sketches … but not from the producer who still hasn’t been in touch.
DECEMBER
Got asked to write three more treatments for three more feature films.
And finished off the year by discovering a guy offered to completely fund one of the potential feature films.
So, where does this leave me? What conclusions can I draw from this year?
Um … I should learn to keep my fool mouth shut?
Probably.
What does 2008 hold?
Well, so far I’ve got one feature shooting in January, one in February and another ten in development which could spring into production at any moment.
But they probably won’t.
I’ve got a TV series being prepped to do the rounds, with three others hovering in the wings of potentiality and a BBC sketch show hurtling through production as we speak.
Or as I speak.
Or type.
And this morning, I managed to negotiate myself a bacon sandwich.
A couple of times recently people have pointed to a specific script or treatment as being the ‘best thing I’ve ever written’; which is either a compliment or an insult, depending on your point of view.
I don’t know about best, but I have a favourite - a short script I wrote a few years back in a bored couple of hours. I love it, and so do a lot of people who’ve read it.*
It’s had the odd flurry of interest and has even earned me an option fee - an option I’ve just discovered ran out in March.†
I really should pay more attention to these things.
I love the script and I love the idea; unfortunately no one in their right mind would sink the kind of money needed into a short like this. It’s a script I don’t think will ever see the light of day.
Oh well, it was fun to write and (rightly or wrongly) I’m still quite proud of it.
Since it’s no longer under option, I thought I’d post it here on the off chance anyone with more money than sense reads my blog.
This is the synopsis:
1939 - 1945 pm.
The entire history of the second World War in fifteen minutes from a cul-de-sac.
A funny and inventive view of WWII from beginning to end, set in a cul-de-sac where all the nations are represented by neighbouring families. It contains all (or at least all I could fit in fifteen minutes) of the major historical events and characters of this period.
And this is the script: 1939-1945pm
Now I’ve just got to get round to taking it off my CV.
——————————————————————–
*Or at least they say they love it. People lie a lot.
†That explains the apologetic phone call from the director, I had wondered what that was about.
I started off well today … no, actually, I didn’t. I woke up late did that writer thing of finishing breakfast and rolling straight into lunch and didn’t sit down to write until about 13.30.
Still, it’s 02.30 now, so I’ve done a good 13 hours writing.
Apart from tea breaks, dinner, supper, afternoon snack and the odd snuggle with Mandy.
Which probably means a good 10 hours work.
Unless I deduct time for browsing the web, faffing about and other general procrastination.
Which I’m not going to.
The first half of my writing day seemed to go quite well: 14 pages, taking me up to page 58; but … that only took me up to the green and blue card in the centre of the second row.
One card further on than yesterday.
One card!
Jesus!
That can’t be right.
That means it’ll be about 70-odd pages up to the mid-point.
That’s really not right.
So I went back to the beginning and hacked like a motherfucker.
If you don’t know how a motherfucker hacks, ask one.
8 pages I hacked out.
8.
Which left my new daily total at 6 pages.
Uh-oh.
Furiously onward did I scribble, bashing out another 7 pages.
And then immediately deleted one of them.
Scribble, scribble, manic scribble.
Until I closed on page 63.
I’m at the mid-point now - the centre (ish) of the film.
The third act, as mentioned yesterday, will be short. Which puts the probable length at 110 pages - my worst case scenario.
I can’t bear to do the math.
28 pages written, 9 hacked out - 19 pages further on than yesterday.
That’s bad.
That means I probably have to write 47 pages on Sunday.
47!
I’m not working tomorrow, no matter what happens. Sunday, Sunday is going to be the testing ground.
Place your bets ladies and gentlemen, place your bets.
I just turned down some paid work and I have no idea how I feel about it.
A few days ago I got an email about doing some corporate training videos: would I be interested?
Probably.
I already write corporate stuff for a friend’s company. He pays me, which is great, but I mainly do it because I like working with him. This isn’t an area I particularly want to get into, I like writing because I like telling stories (lying); but hey, it’s writing and it’s paid so why not?
Today I got the brief for the work and I realised I just can’t do it, for several reasons:
I can’t get through the brief without falling asleep.
Every time I read phrases like ‘Unique Selling Point’ or ‘Cadence of Commoditisation’, I want to punch people.
I don’t find this stuff interesting, how can I make it interesting to anyone else?
And this one shames me the most, I don’t understand a fucking word of it.
I really, really don’t understand business-speak. I just don’t get it and that makes me ashamed and angry. It seems like everyone I know has a degree which is ’something’ and business studies: physics and business studies, flower arranging and business studies, vampire fiction and business studies - and I have no idea what they’re talking about.
Particularly the vampire fiction and business studies girl. I mean really, vampire fiction? As opposed to vampire fact? Although I do tend to link the word business with vampires so it’s probably quite apposite.
I don’t know if I’m just not clever enough to understand the terminology or if I’ve been listening to too many Bill Hicks CDs, but I just spent a morning staring at pages full of phrases I can’t comprehend and feeling very, very stupid.
When I work for my friend, we have to sit down for hours while he explains what he wants in increasingly smaller words until it finally clicks.
“Oh, you’re saying if you’re nice to people, they’ll buy stuff from you again? And people need a training video to work this out?”
Global brand positioning, B2B marketing strategies, positioning statements - I don’t understand any of it.
And then this key phrase from the brief keeps jumping out at me:
“Each video needs to be stimulating, engaging and informative.”
And I know I’m just not capable of doing the job required.
But that decision pains me. John Cleese did a lot of training videos, if it’s good enough for him it’s good enough for … nope, doesn’t work. I just can’t think of a way to make this information interesting.
So I’ve emailed back and politely declined. It’s very rare I admit I can’t do something. I’m normally stupid enough to have a go anyway and see if I can just muddle through - and to be fair, I usually manage; but in this case I wouldn’t be doing it because of any genuine interest, I’d be doing it because I wanted the money.
I need the money, as always, but it I just don’t think I’ve got the skills to do the job. Plus, there are two potential feature writing gigs on the horizon and if I commit to writing these training videos, I definitely won’t be able to take them on.
They may not happen anyway, but it seems a risk worth taking.
There’s this little voice in my head shouting at me and calling me names for quitting, being a bit shit and passing up an opportunity. Meanwhile, there’s another part of me which is obstinately folding its arms and refusing to budge from what it knows is the right choice.
I’m resting on my laurels and I haven’t even got any. Time was, I’d finish one project and bang straight on with something else.
Not working for someone else? Write a spec script.
Finished what I’m doing but don’t want to go to bed yet? Write a handful of sketches.
Got a spec project I’m happy with? Look for someone to send it to.
At the moment, I’m not doing any of that. I’m busy, true - but not so busy I can’t squeeze extra work in. Today, for example, I finished this music video script (another first for me - I didn’t even know they had scripts) and then I … just gave up. I downed tools at about five this afternoon and just fucked around for the rest of the day.
It’s not like I haven’t got stuff to do, but I can’t be bothered. I know exactly how long it’s going to take me to work through my list of jobs and I’m not pushing myself. I could have cracked on today with the feature rewrite I’m in the middle of, but I’ve already planned to do a little bit each day and I just can’t muster the will to push myself harder.
The way I’m acting, you’d think I’d actually achieved something of note which meant I don’t need to try as hard. Yeah, I’m working; but once the current list of jobs is done, there’s nothing to replace it.
I’ve got a feature in production, one in pre-production and five in development - but so what? There’s a better than average chance none of them will ever come to fruition - and even if they do, miracle of miracles, actually result in a film; there’s a very good chance none of them will be good enough to garner any attention whatsoever.
That’s not a slur on the people/companies who intend to make them, it’s just a statistical fact - most projects never see the light of day and most of the ones which do are a pile of shit.
And even if they all sprang into production tomorrow and even if they were all good enough to draw attention to my career - it’ll still be over a year before I’d see any discernable effect.
So what the hell am I waiting for?
Why aren’t I cracking on with one of the mountain of spec ideas I have lying around? Why don’t I make an effort to send out my three remaining spec scripts? At the very least, why aren’t I making some pocket money by writing sketches?
In short, why am I being so fucking complacent?
I think part of it is not having seen my wife, Mandy, for over a week (she’s an air hostess, you know?). If I’m lucky and her flight lands on time, I’ll see her for an hour tomorrow before I have to head off. If I’m unlucky and her flight is delayed, I won’t see her until Thursday. That’s shit, at best. I miss her.
Even that’s not really an excuse. Time was, as soon as she left the house, I’d throw myself at the keyboard and write continuously until I passed out from hunger.
Maybe it’s the heat, I don’t know. Whatever it is, it’s annoying the piss out of me. I’d like to say I’m going to turn over a new leaf tomorrow (or perhaps, go back to my old leaf); but it sounds like an awful lot of work and there’s bound to be something good on the telly.
Oh well, hopefuly it’s just a passing phase and I’ll be back on track soon.
My gay laptop got its first real test this week - I’ve been away from home for four days and I can report it completely failed to be of any use whatsoever for three and five sixths of those days.
I got exactly one sixth of a day’s work out of it - one battery charge - before it packed up and stopped working. It turns out one major component failed to operate in a reasonable manner and it rendered the whole thing useless.
Me, I failed to operate in a reasonable manner - I forgot to take the power cable with me.
There’s a technical name for this sort of behaviour, in an uncharacteristic display of non-swearing I’ll let you fill in the blanks.
Suffice it to say, the ultra portable laptop suddenly seems a lot heavier when it’s no fucking use to anyone.
Luckily, I haven’t got anything I desperately need to do - like, for example, a feature re-write, a music video to outline, a perfume commercial to write, a batch of replacement ideas for ‘The Summoning’ and a new short film to tweak; otherwise I’d have got really upset.
1) Fleeced started shooting. This is my third feature to go into production this year and I can’t help thinking one every two months isn’t a bad average. The cast includes George Calil, Alan Convy and Natasha White; and it’s directed by Humaira Shah … beyond that I don’t really know anything. I’ll post more info as and when I get it.
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BBC, Fleeced, Progress, The Wrong Door, Two steps back, Writing and life | 
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Posted by phillbarron
