Tagged

Adaddinsane tagged me with this: If you could go back to live in any one year from your lifetime, which one would you choose?

Jesus H Christmas, that’s a bitch of a tag, isn’t it? I was tempted to go all wibbly and post-modern and select a variety of incidents from a variety of different years. Then I went and read Michelle Lipton’s post on the same subject (after which I got something in my eye), and came to the conclusion that doing things that way would be a massive cheat.

So, let’s see: oooh, 1988 looks like a good one to me (screen goes wavy as we enter flashback mode):

I played in a band named after a Russ Meyer film – our collective sound was described (by a friend, no less) as ‘five people all playing in different time zones’. One of the stupidest/best things we ever did was to get drunk prior to a BBC Radio Sussex interview, during which we talked about our (fictitious) love for progressive rock (I seem to remember making a fatuous comment about Iron Butterfly). We then all went to a sweaty Taxi Pata Pata gig, during which the band divided into two warring factions – after some Machiavellian manoeuvring by our guitarist (the phenomenally talented Mister Rose), the singer (and his stolen percussion) got thrown out. Trouble was, after that we couldn’t find anyone else even half as good. So that was that.

Of course hindsight is wonderful, but the way we played and wrote music was quite unlike anything I’ve experienced since. Within the band, there were some fiercely talented players (and me, struggling to keep up mostly, especially when the drummer dipped out of 4/4 time, the gifted swine), but nobody came to rehearsals with even half an idea of where things were going to go or even what we were going to do. Chaos reigned, but in a good way: songs were painstakingly built from the ground up via endless jamming and improvisation – if something sounded good, it went into the mix. And when it all got too tiring (rehearsals until four in the morning were pretty commonplace), we’d launch into our only death metal song just to shake things out.

Once the band split, I auditioned for a local band looking for a bass player. Jesus, were they boring: they wrote songs like this, where the autocratic guitarist would hand out sheet music to his hapless band members and then expect everyone to fall in line. Of course, I didn’t – which is why I lasted for exactly one rehearsal.

If I had to relive 1988 again, I’d slap my collective band mates round the back of their legs and tell them to pull themselves together; we obviously didn’t know a good thing when we were in it, and by the time the in-fighting had broken out, it was too late. The fact that I’ve never found a band since that I wanted to play with speaks volumes, which is perhaps something to do with the way we worked: chaotic, improvised, haphazard, and at times downright experimental. I’m not saying that we sounded great, and listening to demos today it of course sounds a little dated. But we had one helluva lot of fun.

Tag Teamed

The newly agented up Oli tagged me with this:

When it comes to writing, what do you know you're good at, and what aspect of writing are you worst at? (Procrastination is not permitted as either part of the answer.)

I like to think I’m good at dialogue – give me two characters in a room and I can magic up a no-holds barred argument (with a gratuitous garrotting thrown in for good measure) out of thin air. I’ve also been told I have a good visual sense, probably a result of spending far too long at art college and hanging around with talented people such as Mister Edwards, god bless 'im.

On the downside, I don’t have too many problems with plotting or story design, although I have a tendency to try and over-complicate things from the get-go – my first drafts are often so horribly complex that I’m often forced into using colour coded spreadsheets, a ream of Post-It notes and copious diagrams on fag packets to try and figure out what the hell might be going on.

I also seem to suffer from an overdeveloped sense of the absurd – let me explain:

When I was 11, part of my history homework one week was to draw the death mask of Tutankhamen (you know the one, it’s right here). I really took my time over the task and produced something that I thought was pretty darned good. I took my exercise book into school the next day, fully expecting it to be collected in and the work marked – except, it wasn’t. A week later, still nothing. By now thoroughly convinced that my meisterwerke would never get marked, I drew a pair of glasses on King Tut and gave him a rather fetching pair of cross eyes. Lo and behold, ten minutes later, the book was collected, marked and returned to me with the following comment underneath my now bespectacled drawing:

Chip can often ruin very good work by being exceedingly silly. 0/10

This is an aspect that I’ve found incredibly difficult to shake off ever since. For example, my last attempt at a straight drama veered quickly off into what a lot of people described as ‘wild implausibility’, but which I like to describe as ‘carnivalesque’ (that’s my excuse anyway). Which is probably why I feel safer writing within the boundaries of a genre. Rules, you see – rules are good.

My DVD Shelf

I nabbed this from Scott the Reader:

I visit your house/apartment, and you spot me looking at your DVD/VHS shelf.

1. What's on there that you instantly force me to borrow, because it's a great movie and you figure I haven't seen it?

2. What you do also lend me, because even though it's not considered a classic, it's a personal favorite?

3. What movie is on there that you have no rational explanation for owning, and which you try to slide under the couch while I'm distracted?

1. Last Year at Marienbad – directed by Alain Resnais from a script by Alain Robbe-Grillet. Not to everybody’s taste I suspect, but the script is a masterclass in opacity and ambiguity, i.e., how far can you take a narrative and still make people say, ‘Huh?’

2. Halloween III – with a script by Nigel Kneale (that he eventually disowned due to the amount of violence in the finished product), this is outlandish and demented with the best ending of any film ever in the history of everything. So there.

3. Hard Cash – the only reason I can think of for owning this is because it came free with one of these DVD player deals, where five godawful straight to video flicks are thrown in as some kind of enticement. Honestly, it’s so awful it’s not even funny. Not so much straight to video as straight to the recycling bin.

Right - your turn. Yes, you, over there. No use hiding, I can see you (and for god’s sake take your finger out of your nose - it's really not very becoming).

Memery Goodness

I got tagged by the bloggingly prodigious Stevyn Colgan – it’s a good one, but I can’t guarantee to stick to the thirty word limit (perhaps the meme police will come get me – here’s hoping, I love a good scrap).

Sod Richard and Judy. Sod Oprah. What would you advise people to read? Name your favourite:

(a) Fiction book
(b) Autobiography
(c) Non-fiction book
(d) A fourth book of your choice from any genre.

Explain why the books are essential reads in no more than 30 words per book.

a) Fiction: Jonathan Meades, Pompey: “the sleaze epic”. A great, big sprawling rambunctious romp which takes in Portsmouth, the origins of HIV, and an insane sojourn in Belgium; one of the most inventive novels I’ve ever read. In addition, Jonathan Meades has written one of the best short stories ever: Filthy English, at turns enticing and repellent. Read it and be appalled.

b) Autobiography: John Lydon: No Irish, No Blacks, No Dogs. Forget the gurning loonpanted fruitcake of Jungle and butter advert fame. In his day, John Lydon was at the forefront of a huge sonic revolution – and I’m not talking about the Sex Pistols here.

c) Non-fiction: Naomi Klein, The Shock Doctrine. Some sections of this book – in particular the parts regarding the South African banking system and its part in apartheid, will literally take your breath away. If you thought that post-apartheid South Africa was somehow finding its feet, think again. Super scary.

d) The Fourth book: JM Coetzee: Disgrace. I prefer my ‘entertainment’ to be served up with a large side order of shock and awe (or a shovel round the back of the head, whatever you prefer). Just when you think you’ve got Coetzee taped, he pulls a series of unexpected narrative left turns that leave you wondering why all literary fiction can’t be this good. The ending is sad, profoundly unsettling and bleak in a way that no film could ever match.

Right, I tag Lawrence (what is it about Lawrence’s blog? Every time I go there, I always end up finding something both hilarious and genuinely demented), Rachel (honestly, Rach, you gotta calm down on the project front: Doctor Chip suggests more time on Lolcat and perhaps the odd Airfix kit), Potdoll (who I’m glad to say now addresses her readers as ‘Happy Knickers’) and Lucy (in need of a relaxing post after taking great big chunks out of Shooting People for the last couple of weeks).

Fiendish Meme

I got tagged by Rachael on this furiously difficult meme, reproduced below (like Mr Campbell, I was hoping to avoid this one. Curses!)

Find a song that sums up what you think it means to be a writer and post the lyrics on your blog and why you've chosen it. NB: It doesn't have to be your favourite song, it just has to express how you feel about writing and/or being a writer. It can be literal, metaphorical, about a particular form or aspect of writing – whatever you want. Then tag 5 others to do the same (reprint these instructions).

Blimey. The best I can think of is this Mclusky lyric (from Collagen Rock) which just about sums up the plight of the perennial spec monkey:

The little kid pissed on the big kid’s porch
He thinks he’s amazing, he’s rubbish of course.

The only problem with this song is that the lyric above is where the writing analogy grinds to a halt, as it further mentions bands with ‘fake tits’. Ahem.

So I’ve alighted on this from Kevin Drew, which is probably something to do with posting off my Red Planet entry:

Well it’s gonna be really hard when we get to the end
It’s gonna be really hard when we get to the end
Well you love the start but it’s really just to begin
It’s gonna be really hard when we get to the end.

But don’t forget what you felt.

If there’s anyone out there who hasn’t been tagged with this thing, then consider yourself ‘it’.

7 Songs

Oooh, I’ve been memed by the Target obsessed Mr Stickler (honestly, Rob: Starship Trooper featuring Sarah Brightman? Zoiks!):

List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now, shaping your spring.

Well, let’s see now:

1) Holiday in Cambodia - Dead Kennedys (picked out the first album today for a blast).
2) Create and Melt – Dali’s Car (don’t ask, please).
3) Love and Mathematics – Broken Social Scene
4) The International Tweexcore Underground – Los Campesinos!
5) Glasgow Mega Snake - Mogwai
6) Fucked Up Kid – Kevin Drew
7) New Year – Death Cab for Cutie.

(Thank God this meme wasn’t called 9 Songs, otherwise this post would have been another anti-Winterbottom rant).

OK, I tag Robin, Lucy, Elinor and Rachael, although I suspect they’ve all been ‘done’ already – so consider yourselves double memed! Or something.

Oooh, A New Meme

I don't know what the word 'meme' means (it's a bit like British Bulldog I think), but I’ve been tagged by Martin (New Order fan and Doctor Who know-it-all) on a film book recommendation.

Oooh, let’s see, there are so many:

Censored, by Tom Dewe Matthews: a history of British film censorship from 1896 to the onset of the video nasty. If you think the whole concept of censorship is entirely arbitrary and illogical, then prepare to be astounded by this book - it's a lot worse than you ever thought.

Easy Riders, Raging Bulls, by Peter Biskind: a superb examination of the golden era of American film (1969-1980 in case youlre wondering) told predominantly through the stories of Robert Altman, Francis Ford Coppola, Martin Scorsese and others. This has just been released in a twenty first anniversary edition by Bloomsbury, and it’s definitely worth a read or two.

Fire Over England, by Ken Russell – good old Ken gives the British film ‘industry’ both barrels. Enormous fun.

Men, Women and Chainsaws, by Carol Clover – after a long day carousing, I settle down with my pipe and slippers and get stuck into some good old gender theory.

Will that do, Martin? I could go on all night here...

All righty then, I tag Elinor, MJ, Jon Peacey, Oli, and Rob Stickler. Good and hearty people all.

In The Meme Time

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...

Stolen Memes

Saw this questionnaire on Lianne’s the other day and it’s being co-opted all the place, so I thought I’d throw my hat in the ring as well. Interestingly enough, all it does is prove what I’ve thought about my writing for a while now, insofar as it’s worryingly random. Time to get back on the medication.

1. Do you outline?

Sometimes, sometimes not. I’ve written scripts with no outline whatsoever, and they usually fizzle out after about 70 pages. Then again, I’ve written from very tightly constructed outlines but get bored very easily. My ideal scenario is to operate in a kind of hinterland between the two – a very loose outline which gives me the opportunity to surprise myself, to let things go off on a wild tangent if they need to. This can be a very high risk strategy, but that’s half the fun of writing I think (I think Charlie Kauffman writes without reference to an outline at all, so if it’s good enough for him...)

2. Do you write straight through, or do you sometimes tackle the scenes out of order?

I try and write straight through, but it never quite works out like that. What I tend to find is that the longer the script gets, the more I go back to tinker with previous scenes. This means that a first draft can often take anywhere up to six months to write, which can be an utter pain in the arse.

3. Do you prefer writing with a pen or using a computer?

Both. I scribble notes in a notebook and often transcribe these directly to trusty old Word.

4. Do you listen to music while you write?

The only music I can listen to when I write is ambient (Eno, Biosphere, Sylvian). My attention span is rubbish at the best of times, so the fewer distractions I have the better.

5. How do you come up with the perfect names for your characters?

I often flick through a book that I am reading, or scan bookshelves until something hits the spot. Sometimes character names come from work colleagues or ex-girlfriends.

6. Have you ever had a character insist on doing something you really didn’t want him/her to do?

All the time – my characters suffer from what is commonly known as ‘Screenwriter Tourettes’. They're a rowdy bunch at the best of times.

7. Do you know how a script is going to end when you start it?

More often than not, no. Or I have a very specific ending in mind that, come the end of the script, has been entirely ditched in favour of something else. As I might’ve mentioned above, it all gets a bit random very quickly round here.

8. Where do you write?

At home, on holiday: wherever. I can’t remember where I heard it, but a piece of advice I try and adhere to is to write the final scenes of your script in an unfamiliar environment. Sounds daft, but it works for me.

9. What do you do when you get writer’s block?

Surf the net endlessly and pointlessly, read a lot, update the blog, go to the gym, eat, go the cinema, walk the dog: anything.

10. What size increments do you write in (either in terms of word count, or as a percentage of the script as a whole)?

Sometimes it can be as little as half a page a day – other times I can crack on and get ten pages done, sometimes I’ll ‘polish’ obsessively for hours.

11. How many different drafts did you write for your last project?

Three.

12. Have you ever changed a character’s name midway through a draft?

Yes. Good old CTRL+F – solves a lot of problems.

13. Do you let anyone read your script while you’re working on it, or do you wait until you’ve completed a draft before letting someone else see it?

I always try and complete a draft before letting anyone see it.

14. What do you do to celebrate when you finish a draft?

The last ‘draft celebration’ I threw got me into a fight and almost got a friend of mine arrested – so I’m trying to give them up before something truly bad happens.

15. One project at a time, or multiple projects at once?

One project at a time (for god’s sake, I’m a bloke – we don’t multi-task!)

16. Do your scripts grow or shrink in revision?

They shrink to such an extent that I have to improvise wildly. In fact, the more I cut back, the more inventive it forces me to be. Some of my best writing has come from this often desperate hack and slash process.

17. Do you have any writing or critique partners?

I have a couple of trusted confidantes who usually kick me in the teeth when I’m least expecting it, but I love them for it really.

18. Do you prefer drafting or revising?

Revising. Once the basic building blocks are there, I love nothing more than taking a huge machete to the sheer awfulness that often comprises my first draft.

I Bin Tagged

Oli tagged me with this from Lucy Vee’s blog:

When I hear music I like I always imagine what kind of scene in a film it could go in, so that's going to be the focus of this meme: you have to imagine you're in a particular kind of movie as outlined below and what your soundtrack will be.

The deal is, you have to come up with five types of film… and tag five other other people.

Crikey.

1. If I was in a Slasher Movie: Happiness In Slavery, by Nine Inch Nails. Says it all really.

2. If I was in a Hip Hop/Urban Movie: Just Another Victim, by Helmet/House of Pain, or Ladyflash, by The Go! Team. Two songs – is that cheating?

3. If I was in Tron (that's not really a 'type' of film is it? Ah, screw it): Leyendecker, by Battles. Amazingly enough, this song sounds like a video game you’re actually winning.

4. If I was in a David Cronenberg movie: Dali, by Martin Grech. There’s only one word to describe this song, and that’s UNHINGED.

5. If I was in a Rom-Com: So Sorry, by Feist. My cuddly, torch singer side coming to the fore.

Right then. I tag:

Elinor

Mr Andy G, who doesn't have a blog but hey, we can't all be perfect...

Georgia, who I just KNOW is lurking out there somewhere (Dali says 'hi', by the way)...

Oh, hang on, someone else tagged Elinor earlier - sorry, that’s ten songs she needs to come up with now (I’m not really getting the hang of this, am I?). So, I need two more… help… I’m kinda new round here and you Scribosphere lot look a bit weird to me ;-)