I got tagged by Lucy with this meme thing that requires “participants to list five things about themselves that others may consider lame, but the writer is secretly proud of.” Wow. As far as I can tell, I am under some kind of legal obligation to respond.
1. I cannot stand the theatre.
Sorry, I just can’t help it. Perhaps it’s to do with the fact that I once went out with a girl who was on the Stage Management course at CSSD and had to sit through countless performances of drama students messily emoting all over the place. It’s not as if I don’t like actors: it’s just that when I get into a theatre and someone starts pretending to be someone else, I always want to be somewhere else (I’ve also got a problem with opera as well).
2. I spent seven years at Art College doing very little.
And loved every minute of it, so hey: sue me. That said, I did a helluva lot of reading (not a lot of it related to my courses) and hung out with some of the most dysfunctional people on the face on the planet: not really something to be proud of, but an achievement nevertheless.
3. I am a complete musical snob.
By which I mean that I look down my nose at everyone else’s musical taste but my own and sneer in a most impolite fashion. But what’s this? One of my favourite records is When The World Knows Your Name by Deacon Blue. To my eternal shame/pride (I’m still wrestling with that all important question) there’s just something about this record that I love but can’t put my finger on.
4. Call That Rejection?
Lucy stated that she has been rejected by all the major literary agents at least once. I can go one better than that, inasmuch as I have been rejected by a wide variety of both major and minor literary agents. At one point, I was being ‘considered’ by three agents at the same time (PFD, Jonathan Clowes and Guy Rose), but they obviously all decided to speak to one another on the subject as their final rejection letters all arrived within a week of each other.
5. Halloween III is one of the best films ever made
A large Halloween mask-making company has plans to kill millions of American children with something sinister hidden in Halloween masks.
There is something so gloriously unhinged/demented about this film that it’s possible to forgive the creaky direction and a narrative that is complete hokum. Oh, and the ending is the best ending for any film (horror or otherwise) anywhere. Why Nigel Kneale ever wanted his name removed from the credits is a complete mystery to me.
By the way, if you dispute the fact that Halloween III is anything other than great, I will challenge you to a fight to prove my point.
I could go on to discuss the fact that I consider Jordan and Peter Unleashed to be hugely entertaining television, but I'm not prepared to reveal the true extent of my lameness just yet...
Right: get going Oli, Jon, Robin and Leanne... oh, Jon’s done one already. Blimey, you gotta be quick round here...
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Ah, the lovely Guy Rose. The very first Lit Agent to take me on back in the day as a reader when I was but a wee student. Learnt ALOT from him and his then-assistant Imogen, not least from the fact they would forward all my reports to the writers concerned who would want to kill me. Much fun.
And actually, tho I stated all the major agents, most of the minor agents have rejected me too. Including Guy at least twice.
Guy was very good actually - spoke to him a couple of times on the phone, which obviously confirmed his opinion that total rejection of my work was the only possible way forward.
I remember a time back in the day when rejection used to actually hurt: nowadays I just shrug it off, laugh manically and stride forward into the next disaster...
Theatre: love plays and filmed plays but don't like plays in theatres. Does this make me a bad person? Opera? Great! But ticket prices have stopped me from seeing one for many a year. So, maybe I'd hate a staged one now.
I don't want to appear impertinent but... how did you spend 7 years at art college?
Seven years? Quite easy, my dear Jon!
1) Two years on an OND: General Art and Design course = two years of smoking a lot, playing pool and twatting about.
2) Two years on an HND:
Illustration and Design in Cambridge (this was a very well regarded course at the time, so Christ knows how I managed to blag my way onto it).
3) Three years on a part-time MA: Sequential Design and Narrative Illustration. The course was stuffed with filmmakers, some very talented multi-media people, massively successful illustrators, and me. My final year effort was entitled "The Visual and Narrative Uses of Symmetry in Stanley Kubrick's Full Metal Jacket."
After year seven, I considered a PGCE but I'd lost the will to live by that point...
Aaaah, now it all makes sense! You see I came out of school and went onto a 1-year pre-degree Foundation Art course. (And a vast quantity of alcohol was enjoyed by all!) For some reason, I'd got it into my head that this was the only possible art course that anybody ever does. If I knew what the shame-faced smiley was I'd be using it right now! ;-)
I thought about the year long foundation, but really wanted the time to twat about about as much as I possibly could - hence the two year sentence. Needless to say, I've been twatting about ever since...
We were all very hyperactive and so managed to work hard and twat about! Excellent!
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