I Want To Write Until My Fingers Become Bloody Stumps

Did you miss me? Did you? Sure y'did. Unless, of course, you were at the Cheltenham Screenwriters' Festival and became steadily sick of the sight of me over the full exhausting four-day shebang.

It was a grand event - worth the expense, time and effort, to say the very least - and presented so much Stuff that it'll probably keep me in blogging material for weeks, like some kind of Christmas turkey which gets made into sandwiches and the like. It's left my brain spinning and buzzing. I'm flitting from one screenplay idea to another, in an attempt to work out which script should hit the Red Planet Prize competition, which should hit Hammer Films and which should hit Film4. Help! My neural pathways are all congested. Hopefully I can soon work out what to write for who, and when.

Right now, though, I'm off to enjoy some alleged 'torture porn' with Hostel Part II. Then attending a carnival in Newark-On-Trent. Lovely.

4 comments:

Lucy said...

Yes, but this is a carnival of death, right?? Not one of those real ones with kids and balloons and feelings of jollity...

Helen Smith said...

This isn't about hitting people with scripts and hurting them, now is it? It's not that kind of hitting?

Shame.

You know, I miss you and I was actually at the Cheltenham Script Festival.

martin said...

wonderful to see you again at Cheltenham sir, I'm still recovering, and missing it and everyone - I don't have any celebs to drive around, don't have anyone to sit round talking about Dr who with to all hours!! Can't wait for next year. later.

Jason Arnopp said...

Lucy: Oh yes, of course. A carnival of cruelty. Mwah, hah and indeed hahhhhh.

Helen: Missing you too, honey-bunch! Sorry, that just felt instinctively like a 'honey-bunch' moment.

Martin: You worked like a carthorse at Cheltenham, sir. Albeit a carthorse with screenwriting skill. Which is a rare breed. Great to see you at the fest! And as I was saying to Piers earlier, I rather wish we were all back there...