Coming Soon

  So first draft of The Book is finished at last and I've even got some blog posts ready and waiting to be read by lovely pairs of eyes. Or even eyes not in pairs, don't let it be said I'm racist against Cyclops.

  My reason for not posting yet however is because despite the young age of this blog, I thought now would be a good time to maybe find a new hosting site or maybe just give it a bit of a reboot. Whatever I decide I just want everything looking nice for my guests when my next blog entry finally makes its appearance.

  So watch this space or possibly a new space entirely or maybe just... you know what? I'll call you.

Have a Kit Kat

Part 2 of diary of a runner should be here. In fact it should have been here yesterday but I spent all of my writing time on my book. 111,000 words and still counting (111,417 if you want to be really exact). It's nearing the end so I think I might take a brake from this blog so I can concentrate on it a bit more. I'll do my best to run off a few articles so I'm nice and ready for coming back to this but at the moment the book is proving to be more and more complicated as it judders along.

Have a lovely bank holiday everyone!

Diary of a Britain’s Got Talent Runner: Part 1

  Britain’s Got Talent is back on telly (or so I’m told) and in celebration (or acknowledgement at least) I thought I’d make this week’s blog entry about my time working on Britain’s Got Talent as a runner. If the word runner is leaving you confuddled, the runner is basically the lowest rung on the television career ladder. Runners make tea, run papers around the building, clean and do any other jobs those above them want doing.

  My first few days working for the show was at Blackpool for the first stage of auditions. However I’m going to skip this bit since my time at Manchester was slightly more interesting. During our first briefing at Manchester there was a list of runners who had been asked to man the cameras. One of the producers was annoyed at the fact they were all boys and asked if any girls had been with them before. And wouldn’t you know it I qualified.

  My luck didn’t end there either. First let me explain a little about how this stage works. For first auditions Simon Cowell and friends (this was a few years ago now) were absent. The closest I came to meeting him was when he rang one of the producers. So at this point producers and researchers rule the roost. Each producer is given a room and a looong line of people to watch audition. Strangely the number of singers always outweighed the number of variety acts several times. I think there were about 4 rooms just for singers, 2 for dance groups and only 1 for the variety acts. You’d think the singers would maybe have a go at the X factor, the SINGING competition but oh no, they have to try any opportunity.

  Obviously the variety acts were the ones most people would want to see and guess who got assigned to that room. My job would be to film the auditions (not for going on proper TV but so the producers could look back at what they’d seen). And it was my home for the best part of a week. Even the producers had to switch rooms to give each other a break from god awful child singers. In fact the head Producer moaned about them saying “If I have to hear one more kid singing ‘The sun’ll come out tomorrow’ I’m going to kill someone”. But not me. Variety acts of Manchester, you were mine.

  The most exciting thing about watching the auditions in that room was that I got to witness several acts that made it not only on to the show but on to the final stages of the competition. There was the dancing dog (probably long forgotten now after years of the buggers), the sexy karate men and a few others forgotten in time.

  In an effort to be strict about my 500 word count I’ll leave this diary here. Come back for part 2 when Susan Boyle fights a rhino, Simon Cowell makes everyone cake and a runner makes it to the finals (warning none of these things may happen).

Outa Time

  For anyone keeping an eye on my twitter and facebook statuses you may have seen that I reached the 100,000 word count for my book “The Darwin Solution”. The thing is it’s not even finished. There’s still lots to do, like the final act for example. I will finish it and hopefully before the end of this year. It’s been in the making a long time now and progress is slow.

  The trouble is for someone like me I can’t give myself a deadline, a target to reach for because I’d just ignore it. (I’m barely managing to keep up this 500 word a week blog). I have a little time table that determines how many hours of writing I should be doing a day and I pretty much ignore it. I have a full time job to work around and I know it sounds like excuses but it’s amazing how a day free to write soon turns in to something else.

  For example today, a Thursday is prime writing time. I don’t start work until 6pm and from mid-day onwards I’m on my own with no one to distract me. But for me writing depends so much on moods. If I force myself to write when I’m not in the mood I just know it’ll reflect in my writing. And this can be true with a lot of things. Matt Lucas said whilst making the new series “Come Fly with Me” that the character Taaj was so easy for him to perform because he was so clear in his head. However a scene for the final episode where one of the characters wins an award was the hardest for him to do and get right. Even before seeing the making-of documentary I had decided Taaj was my favourite character and that the awards scene was one that just didn’t work.

  Today I was in the mood for writing the only problem was it was to write something else. I had an idea for a new story and I spent a long part of my afternoon researching Grimm fairytales and thinking of new characters. Perhaps the thing I’m most guilty of is starting new projects out of excitement for a new idea and never following through. The reason why I know I’ll finish the Darwin Solution is because it’s one of the only book ideas where I know how it’ll end and where the story will go. At this point in the story my main reason for not writing when I can is because I am yet to work out the finer details. Right now I don’t know whether my character is going to be imprisoned for a while or being taken to this room straight away.

  This blog was another thing getting in the way of book writing but I want to be strict with myself and keep to my own deadlines. It’s good practise after all. The thing is once I’ve finished writing this I’ll only have 2 and a half hours left before work and that just isn’t long enough to do anything.

Threee Dee Glasses

  Okay I’ve come to a point where I feel a need to say something. 3D is not a gimmick. I’ve heard so many people either saying they have never seen a 3D film or they saw one and didn’t see the point. The first problem for 3D to overcome is to get people to stop thinking of red and blue glasses which I think the last couple of years of cinema has managed to achieve. So maybe it wasn’t worth mentioning really.

  Another problem I think stems from this need that so many people have to simplify things. With technology things have to be labelled and I think people struggle with 3D because it’s not easy to simplify. It is not the step beyond HD for the simple reason that for a lot of people the 3D effect doesn’t work. Plus so many people get hung up on the idea of the glasses, something which I personally don’t think is a huge sacrifice. So if it’s not a technological advancement then it’s a gimmick. A one-time show. A magician with a fake tan shouting “hey, hey I learnt a new trick!”

  But life is complex and so is 3D. It could be there to create a spectacle. This is what James Cameron was trying to do with Avatar, he wanted to bring the spectacle back to cinema. Despicable Me used it in a really fun way, putting you on a rollercoaster with the characters. It was brilliant. Coraline used 3D in a really clever way, purposely adding more depth to the fantasy world Coraline visited to make it seem more wondrous than the dull flat looking reality.

  Toy Story 3 used 3D and a lot of people struggled to think why. Nothing jumped out or did anything to break the fourth (or third) wall. Here 3D wasn’t a spectacle. And it wasn’t meant to be. The 3D was merely part of the fabric of the film. Like sound design, editing and cinematography 3D is there to help build the believability of the world we’re viewing. 3D made me feel like I could reach in to the film and pick up Woody for myself but for most of the time my mind failed to acknowledge that the 3D was there. My mind was focused on what it’s supposed to be focused on when watching a movie, the story.

  Another problem 3D has to overcome is the current trend of 3D conversions. For those who don’t know, the difference is that in a normal 3D movie it is filmed with a stereoscopic 3D camera (pretty much 2 cameras stuck together) whereas a conversion takes an ordinary 2D film and artificially creates a 3D effect (like Alice in Wonderland and The Last Airbender). For someone who knows what they’re looking for the difference is obvious. I’ve seen a show reel by a company that helps production companies make good looking stereoscopic films. On the show reel were a mix of dramas, sci-fi and documentaries. All of them benefited from the beauty that was the 3D effect. So take it from someone who’s seen the future of 3D, when done well 3D is a joy to behold.

Next on the 3D rant list, why the Nintendo 3DS manages to simultaneously be and not be the future of 3D

Rivers of London, Wizards dealing with Bureaucracy

  After struggling to think of a blog entry I realised two things. One, I wanted to get back to the subject of writing and two I just finished reading a book so a review is a perfectly respectable thing to add to my blog.

  Rivers of London is a story told from the point of view of Police Constable Peter Grant who is brought to the attention of Inspector Nightingale when he claims he’s waiting to speak to a ghost. As it turns out Nightingale is the last Wizard in England or was until he takes Peter on as his apprentice. This isn’t really a story about him becoming a fully fledged wizard so don’t let your mind jump to “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.” It’s made clear that a Wizard’s education can take up to a decade so don’t expect to see many flashy spells.

  The book juggles a main plot of trying to figure out who or what is possessing innocent people of London in to violently attacking people close by and a sub plot about keeping the peace between the Father and Mother of the Thames. Peter Grant has a consistent sarcastic and humorous tone which makes the book all the more enjoyable to read. That and the journey of seeing the crimes unfold will keep the pages turning.

  I managed to put my finger on what it is I like so much about the book. We learn that Peter Grant is mixed race with an African mother that he mentions quite often. This for me means I’m seeing London and the events from a unique perspective whilst at the same time I’m treated to his down to earth opinions that I find so relatable. So as any good “How to Write” book will tell you, Peter Grant makes a perfect hero.

  Rivers of London is the perfect mix of the mundane (Peter telling us the ins and outs of the Metropolitan Police system) and the fantastic (ghosts, river spirits and magic spells). In this world vampires don’t sparkle (Peter Grant says so himself) and magical beings are irritated by the mention of Harry Potter. I find it amusing how many books squeeze the words “Harry Potter” on to the front of books to sell more. On the front of this one is the quote “What would happen if Harry Potter grew up and joined the Fuzz?” Now I don’t fully agree with this. Characters with dry English wit and magic spells are just about the only things the books have in common. Personally I think the style puts it closer to a book like “The Vesuvius Club” and its sequels than any Harry Potter.

  The only thing that I felt a little disappointed by was the lack of much background to Thomas Nightingale, the last Wizard alive, though I have been assured that this will be resolved in the sequel, “Moon over Soho”.

I was robbed by twooo men

  I posted that title as my facebook status and no one seemed to get the joke, I think partly because I did it in the wee hours of the morning. It’s a quote from this amazing example of Japanese education, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vf-C8gGSnBE

  A large amount of time was suddenly freed up today and I promised myself I’d get some more of my novel written but because it’s been a week since my last blog post I thought I’d better write something for here first.

  I have a few blog posts half written (one about the credits after films and the other explaining my beef with Ben and Jerry), and some ideas for a little project (something to bring the subject back around to writing). But screw these ‘cause I was robbed by two men!

  On Friday evening the small manager Lindsay (I’m not being petty, she’s pretty short), my tall co-worker Adam and myself were all waiting around to shut the shop. The shop is a small supermarket, think of something similar to a co-op. We had 20 minutes left and Adam reminded me of something I still had to do. So I popped in to the office, grabbed what I needed and turned around to see something dark travel in to the shop. At the time I thought someone was throwing a bag but later I discovered it was actually robber number one. I could then hear the second robber shouting to the others to get on the ground.

  I must have still been moving forwards and I think I even popped my head out briefly but as soon as I realised what was going on I disappeared back in to the office and locked the door. I had been seen, because a second hadn’t gone by and the second robber was pounding on the door. Thankfully the window and the door remained solid. I took the key from the door and threw it to a chair. It was time for some kind of action.

  I hurried to the phone and here there was a problem. You see in the office are two phones, a regular one and one attached to a fax machine. A couple of days before the normal had been unplugged because apparently the number 2 doesn’t work. So in my haste I went for the phone I assumed we were using. I dialled 999 and waited. I heard nothing. I hung up and tried again. Nothing. Damn.

  Outside the office, while I was trying to find a phone that worked, the two robbers were ripping apart the cigarette stand and Lindsay and Adam were crouched on the floor nearby. Back in the office and I moved on to the next phone. I picked it up and was about to dial when I heard a voice. I don’t know how but clearly dialling one phone had affected the other.

  The normal thing to do in this situation is to, well, explain your situation. Now I’ve had to ring police before now and always, always forget the first “threshold guardian”. The person sat in a call centre whose job it is to ask you one thing. “Police, ambulance or fire department?” And my forgetting this leads to the irritating situation of shouting down the phone “I’m being robbed, they’re armed, help!” followed by “yes, but what do you want police, ambulance...”

  I understand why this person is there and why they can’t just assume what you need but it still annoys the hell out of me. I just want to scream “The coastguard? What do you think I need?!” Also my hope in these situations is that the police will arrive while the robbers are still around but the sad thing is it’s just not likely. Especially since the days when robbers asked for tills to be opened is gone. It might sound strange but in my experience robbers don’t go for cash. They go for cigarettes. The most expensive packs are near enough £7 and it’s far easier and quicker to fill a bag with those than go through the trouble of asking frightened staff to open the tills.

  So the robbers left, but not before dropping some of the vodka they were trying to take. Adam appeared at the door and I opened it. We checked we were all ok and soon after the police arrived. The police took statements did their usual thing and eventually left over an hour after what would have been closing time. We were told to leave the mess that had been made so as not to ruin any evidence forensics might find.

  Since the shop is my dad’s and I live with my dad this means I live above the shop. So I went upstairs and awaited the arrival of C.S.I. Trust me this wasn’t as exciting as television makes it out to be. C.S.I turned out to be a singular middle aged man with a torch who made even more of a mess of the tills by chucking black powder everywhere. He also seemed very bored by the whole proceedings. I know he’d already been at a robbery that night but come on, at least give us a smile.

  For me the worst part of these events is usually the cleaning up afterwards, made even worse because my dad is away on holiday leaving me to deal with a lot more than usual. And of course it never helps that usually after these sorts of incidents sleep is taken away from you by a brain that just won’t shut down. A brain that insists on replaying the events over and over like it’s trying to burn them in to your eyelids. Then it shows you what could have happened if things went wrong. What if I hadn’t locked the door in time? What if he’d broken it down and come after me? Then for my own amusement it replays the events except I have Jean Grey’s psychic powers, meaning I can leave the two men hanging in mid-air until the police arrive.

  In these situations it’s important to find the funny side, such as the fact one of them left a very clear footprint on a nice clean bit of paper that happened to be on the tills. I bet C.S.I. man loved that. Or even better that when the second robber jumped back over the tills, he fell flat on his face. The idiot.