Author: John Page 51 of 121

And A Very Merry Christmas To All Of You

If you’re reading this shortly after I post it, you really ought to go to bed – Santa doesn’t come if you’re still awake.

That consideration aside, I hope you have a good day, and that you spend it with people who you want to be with, and that you have fun.

I’m reliably informed that the actual translation of the latin phrase “et in terra pax hominibus, bonae voluntatis”, because it involves the genetive case, actually means “Peace on earth to men of good will”, but I think we can stretch to the usual mistranslation, and so I wish a whole bunch of high quality will (and not in the Nietzschean sense) to each and every one of you.

As Derek Batey used to say, be nice to each other.

Yes, Yes, The Lesson Here Is Not To Leave Your Present-Wrapping Until The Last Minute, But That Doesn’t Help Me Right Now

I thought that my previous problem with mixed-up gifts might get me in trouble, but all my notebook says for the presents for my sister and my niece alike is ‘Circus CD’.

The items are on the table before me, and they need wrapping in the next few minutes. Looks like I’d better flip a coin…

I Guess The Opposite of Update Would Be Downtime

Over the last couple of weeks, a number of people I know have started using Twitter.

If you’re not familiar with it, it’s arguably best described as a ‘microblogging’ site, where people post updates in very brief terms – about the length of a text message (which I think is probably how much of the updating is done), akin to the personal status thing in (hack, spit) Facebook.

Messrs Peel and Colgan are using it, though I doubt I’ll be joining in – as regular readers will have realised by now, the idea of me being able to express things in the bare minimum of characters is extremely unlikely.

Still, when it comes to twittering, I think we’d all have to agree that this chap may well be the current champion. Cripes.

I Don’t Mean To Be Rude, But: I Once Saw A Man Openly Reading A Hardcore Pornographic Magazine On The District Line. Clearly, This Is Far Worse

On the tube on the way home from finishing off my Christmas shopping the other night, I noticed that the woman sitting next to me was reading a book – which is perfectly reasonable – but strangely, she was keeping it inside her bag as she did so… as you can see from the craftily taken picture here.

Having seen a man reading an adult art pamphlet (as referred to in the title of this post) on the tube before, and also a woman reading a ‘ladies erotica novel’ about bondage and spanking without any such sense of subterfuge, I was keen and eager to know what it was that she was trying to read without letting anyone know what it was.

She turned a page, I peered at the title at the top of it, and it turned out to be this.

Shocking, I think you’ll agree.

(If nothing else, I expect the racy words used in this post to help bring in new readers via Google search.)

And, Let’s Face It, Having The Word ‘Standard’ In The Name Is Asking For Trouble

Remember how, the other day , I suggested that the interplay between fiction and reality goes in both directions?

Well, here’s a newspaper hoarding from Thursday.

Given that the next line in the report wasn’t ‘Time Vortex Undoes All Of History’, I think one might politely (or less politely) suggest that the paper was confusing the actor with the role he plays.

(Though I guess they might have been referring to concerns that David T’s health might endanger the filming of episodes, but I prefer to take the less charitable interpretation where the ES is concerned. It’s a stablemate of the Daily Mail, after all.)

Service Update

I’m sure you’re worrying about it, so let me just put your minds at rest, my loves – here at John Soanes, “normal service” (by which I mean ‘at least as many updates as there are working days in the week’) will be maintained over the Christmas and New Year period.

So, that news means literally dozens of people will be able to sleep well at night, then.

From Hull

Once again, the good people from the BBC Writersroom are holding a roadshow – this time in Hull on Wednesday 7 January 2009.

As with all the finest gatherings, you need to be on the list to get in, but it’s free to attend – full details of the how, when and where can be found here.

And, though no details are given, a roadshow session in London is promised for 2009. I’m very unlikely to attend the Hull event, but London… well, that’s my manor, innit?

I Couldn’t Find The UK Version Of The De Niro Film Poster, But It’s The Same In Language Terms

Sometimes in life we may face awkward questions, but surely that doesn’t mean that we should be inherently afraid of question marks? For some reason people seem a bit keen to remove them from the titles of various media. as shown above.

Anyone have any idea why this is ?

Er, I mean, “anyone have any idea why this is”…

Ah, But Is It Art?

Antony Gormley’s Angel Of The North, and Walt Disney’s Condorman.

Despite the obvious similarities, only one of them is considered to be a work of art.

Can you guess which, and why? Answer using your own words as far as possible. (25 marks)

As I Know He Reads The Blog, I’d Like To Acknowledge That My Brother – Though He’s Not Imaginary Like Donald Kaufman – Also Does His Job Jolly Well

There’s a poll currently running on the Writers’ Guild Blog : “Do you believe in writers’ block?”

The two answers given are ‘Yes, it’s all too real’, and ‘No, it’s just an excuse to procrastinate’, and if you want to, I think you can still vote, so if you feel strongly either way and want to make your opinion known, follow the above link and click away.

I’ve been mulling it over a bit, partly because of the question asked by the WGGB, partly because of this post by Andrew ‘They Call Me Mister’ Tibbs, though mainly because I’ve recently rewatched Adaptation, a good film which is certainly worth seeing (if you haven’t already done so).

As you may well know, the film tells the story of screenwriter Charlie Kaufman’s struggle to adapt the book The Orchid Thief by Susan Orlean into a screenplay, and interweaves the tale of the book itself with his writing struggles (with something that certainly looks like writer’s block), to the point where the film is ultimately more about that than the content of Orlean’s book (though that just be me preferring the tale of the storyteller than the flora-seller). In the film, Kaufman stares hopelessly at the blank page in his typewriter, wrestling with both problems of story and his own self-worth (made all the more prominent by comparison with his [imaginary] twin Donald, who has enormous success with his own more obviously populist script).

It reminded me rather of the post on Andrew’s blog, which refers to the recent Charlie Brooker programme, wherein a number of writers talked about the importance of actually getting down to writing – Tony Jordan puts it most straightforwardly when he says ‘A writer writes – the clue is in the name’ – and quite a few of them talked about how they’d write without necessarily knowing where they were going with the story. Andrew wrote about how the opposite of this can be to want to plot everything down to the smallest detail, and how that can lead to constant procrastination from the act of getting words down on the page – which is part of Kaufman’s problem in Adaptation.

I’m inconsistent in whether I plan things like mad or just dive into a story (though I invariably like to have an end in mind, lest I should go on writing for ever), although one thing I’ve realised is that it’s better if I keep my story ideas to myself; not for fear of plagiarism, but for the more mundane reason that if I get all giddy and intoxicated with the tale and end up blurting it out (usually in a half-baked form), that tends to dilute the need to write it down because – even on that pathetic level – part of me feels I’ve told the story. God only knows how I reconcile that with pitching and query letters, but I tend to make sure my first draft is finished before I get to that stage.

Anyway, I don’t really have an opinion as to whether Writers’ Block is real, though in a strange way I suspect that’s because I’ve rarely been in a position where my failure to words on paper has been like a kick to my sense of identity. I’ve only occasionally been called upon to write under that kind of pressure (well, outside of work, where the stuff I write about is usually non-fiction, though some might disagree). If I was a paid writer, I can well see that finding the well of inspiration had run dry would be akin to a bout of mental impotence – you want to do it, you know you can do it, but the more you think about it, the less likely it is to happen.

I wish I was more advanced in my writing career than I actually am – and I’m well aware that I’m the only one, ultimately, who can do anything about that – but in a way it does mean that the pressure is lower; by analogy, if I can’t be bothered to go out for a run (as has been the case more often than not since the clocks went back, and I have the waistline to prove it), I don’t have a coach or team who I’m letting down, and who’ll shout at me if I jeopardise my personal advancement, but if you’re a writer by trade, there are a lot of people who you could feel you’re letting down (as well as yourself). I can see why it could be a more pernicious situation if you feel you just can’t find it within you to write (or indeed run), so I wouldn’t want to say it’s not real just because I (fortunately) haven’t experienced it.

The main thing that keeps me from writing as much as I should, or should like to, is the tiresome and predictable issue of, you guessed it, time; again, I’m aware that I could squeeze in more writing and less loafing, and so for me at present this is a bigger challenge than Writers’ Block, though of course that may change in the future.

So, in summary, my concerns: Writers’ Block? Not yet. Writer’s Clock? You bet.

Page 51 of 121

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