10 Reasons Why Twitter Is Great For Writers

Sure, Twitter might seem detrimental to writers, by dint of being a colossal, neverending Procrastination Circus From Hell.  This social network can indeed be extremely distracting, but like pretty much everything in life, it depends how you ration it out.  We writers have always been highly skilled at finding displacement activities.  Twitter is merely the new aiming-paper-balls-at-a-bin-across-your-study.

I've been on Twitter for over three years.  I love the place and believe it does writers way more good than harm.  Here are 10 ways in which Twitter is a force for good.  Apologies in advance if any of these involve teaching you how to suck eggs.  I’ll be using the word “script” a lot, so if that doesn’t apply to you, please substitute for “novel”, “journalistic article”, “poem” or “voodoo death sonnet”.

1) ECONOMY

No tweet can be longer than 140 characters (unless you employ the TwitLonger service, which arguably misses the point of Twitter, but can occasionally be very useful for making points which simply need more explanation).  This basic rule obviously forces tweeters to be economical with their wording.  I often find myself writing a tweet and discovering it’s over the limit.  It’s then a matter of editing it down, without losing the sense.  

I do exactly the same for every single line of action and dialogue in scripts.  Briefer is better.  I’m also quite particular about how my scripts look - I strive for them to be as clean and readable as possible - and so I hate ‘widows’ (a single line at the end of a sentence, containing only one word) cropping up.  Widows must die.  Kill your widows.  Hack at that script/tweet until it says what needs to say, in as concise a manner as possible.  It’s amazing how much a seemingly splendid line can be improved by boiling it down or completely rephrasing.  Thinking about it, it’s probably not a terrible rule of thumb to impose 140-character limits on your script action lines.

2) COMMUNITY

Writers are largely solitary beasts.  The process of writing, unless you're a sitcom duo like Jesse Armstrong and Sam Bain, is lonely by definition. Anything which fosters communication and social contact can only be a boon, and Twitter offers a wonderful sense of community.  Obviously, nothing beats meeting people in person, but I love the way Twitter allows us to effortlessly keep up with acquaintances, friends and miscellaneous contacts, with spending too much time doing so.  There are people I haven’t seen in ages, but who I feel like I see every day.  There are also good friends I’ve made through Twitter, who I’ve never met, but certainly plan to (with their consent, obviously).  It’s healthy for writers to form bonds with other scribblers who actually understand what they do for a living, who feel their pain when things go horribly wrong and can share information/contacts/pizza topping preferences.  It's also very healthy indeed to talk to people who couldn't care less about writing.

3) CHARACTER BUILDING

For the writer, Twitter can literally be a character-building exercise.  Your timeline probably contains hundreds, maybe thousands, of people from various backgrounds, ethnicities, lifestyles, political affiliations and so on.  It’s all so very good for the writer’s brain.  Vital fuel for the creative engines.  We don’t get out much, after all, so Twitter gives us a constant flow of wonderfully varied viewpoints and voices.  Soak them in, like a sponge, just as you would around a crowded pub table.  Some of these people’s sentiments, sentence structures and preoccupations may end up bleeding into your work, even if it’s on a purely subliminal level.  To my way of thinking, good writers need to be actively interested in other people (same goes for Twitter users, even though many celebrities provide exceptions to that rule, following a mere handful of people).  The more voices you take on board, the easier it will be to plant yourself in different characters’ shoes with some degree of authority and authenticity.

4) SELF PROMOTION

Here, I’m not primarily talking about pimping your work, although there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that in moderation - I never quite understand why people get so self-conscious about their “gratuitous plugs”.  I certainly plug my How To Interview DoctorWho, Ozzy Osbourne And Everyone Else ebook on a regular basis (look out, I just did it again), while mindful not to become a spamaniac.  

If you’ve done something and want people to know about it, there’s no shame in making that happen.  Twitter is way more than a mere forum for plugs, however: it gives you a platform, just as a blog does.  It gives you a presence, to use as you will.  People knowing you exist, and what you’re about, is half the battle.  For me, the ideal set-up is having both an active blog and Twitter account - you can, of course, embed your last few Twitter posts in your blog’s sidebar.  When posting on both platforms, if you’re a writer looking to be produced, I’d avoid writing anything which might make industry folk think you’re mad, rubbish or disgruntled.  Or all three.  But that’s a given, right?  Right?  You’d think so, anyway.  See Danny Stack's comment on this very post for further details.

5) WISDOM

There’s a vast tank of this nutritious brain-feed on Twitter, and it’s entirely free.  Follow the right people and you have an immediate hotline into as much of their working lives as they choose to reveal.  If someone’s doing what you want to do, take note of their attitudes, their approach to things, their thoughts on the industry, their flashes of insight.  Not in order to wholly replicate these people like some breed of Body Snatcher, you understand, but to absorb that wisdom, to use in your own way - even if you reject it.  See the end section of my recent blogpost here, for instance, to see a list of TV creators on Twitter.  I’m still amazed that some of them have comparatively few followers right now.

6) INFORMATION

Again, follow the right people and companies on Twitter and you’ll never miss anything, ever again.  Events, competitions, initiatives... it’s increasingly simple to stay abreast of this stuff.  If you miss someone flagging up an ideal date for your calendar, then you can bet someone else will post/retweet about it later.  Follow TV, radio and/or film production companies and keep track of what they’re working on.  Follow helpful bodies like the BBC Writersroom.  There is no longer any excuse for not understanding how industries work and ways into them.  And of course, Twitter will always keep you in touch with what’s happening in the real world, albeit through a prism of often violently conflicting opinions.

7) PRAISE

Here’s one of my many favourite things about Twitter: I can experience a TV drama serial, an episode of EastEnders, a film, a book or a comic, then immediately look the writer up on Twitter and tell them how much I liked it.  This can only be a good thing for scribblers, who are often so used to being sidelined and glimpsed in credits which hurtle past in one quarter of the screen.  If you like a writer’s work, tell them so.  I love the fact that we can now do this so easily.  Same goes, of course, for directors, producers and anyone else whose work you enjoy.  Positive feedback, where deserved, puts a giddy spring in the world’s step.  You can even connect with your all-time heroes.  I'd certainly like to know in which other universe I could tweet my admiration at John Carpenter and receive a reply within minutes.

8) IDEAS

Twitter dumps an avalanche of stuff on your head, every hour of the day.  News, opinion pieces, blogs, jokes, thoughts, indecent photography.  Some of these things can be filtered into your work, or make a huge cartoon light bulb blip into existence above your head.  Whenever something interests or inspires you, catalogue it safely away for potential future use.

Besides ‘favouriting’ tweets (which you can handily sync with Google Reader), I use Instapaper, which is integrated into my browser - I can save a page with a single click.  This method feels easier to manage than standard browser bookmarking.  There's also the excellent Evernote, which helps you keep virtual notebooks.  Another great technique lies in Twitter lists.  You can create a list - privately, if you like - without having to actually follow anyone on it.  A strange but useful loophole.  So if you’re researching a TV series about firemen, for instance, you can build a list of firemen/fire services on Twitter and receive a separate feed solely comprised of their tweets.  This can be gold dust.  Oh, and if you're a comedy writer, Twitter can be a decent testing ground for jokes.  If a gag triggers a slew of retweets, it's probably got legs.

9) NETWORKING

On the face of it, Twitter isn’t naturally set up for networking.  Chat with more than two or three people at once and there’s barely any room in a tweet to 'speak', because you need to begin with their ‘@’ usernames.  Certain corners of Twitter can also admittedly be quite cliquey, and it can feel intimidating to strike up a conversation with someone new in public (public, that is, provided people are following you both).  Yet somehow, while sailing on Twitter’s hivemind soup, it’s surprisingly easy to get to know new people.  It just happens.  Sometimes you follow them and they follow you back, naturally prompting a brief chat/hello, which can lead to banter.  Sometimes they’ll follow you first.  Sometimes a stranger will see a retweeted tweet of yours.  Sometimes you’ll join a conversation which includes strangers who become friends. 

Unlike Facebook, where both parties have to agree to befriending each other, Twitter is more open.  It’s perfectly possible to chat to people on a regular basis without mutual followage.  Twitter offers the opportunity to directly contact people who may be Good To Know and who, shock horror, may become Proper Friends.  The directness and ease of such contact is really not to be underestimated.  As with all networking, though, it’s worth bearing in mind that restraint and politeness are key (see Eight Ways To Annoy People Whose Help You Want).  It’s also worth saying that, if you have a hang-up about being ‘ignored’, Twitter may sometimes feel a little harsh.  Cold, even.  Just bear in mind that, if someone has a lot of followers, they may not even see your tweet on their timeline.  Also, only about five per cent of the people who follow you will read any one of your tweets.

10) PROCRASTINATION

Yes, that’s right - the very thing I initially said seemed bad can actually do you a whole world of good.  If writers stare at a script for too long, their brains implode and become grey milkshake.  We regularly need to switch frequencies and Twitter provides endless ways in which to do so, whether it’s getting involved in a debate about internet censorship or following a YouTube link to watch a marmoset play the banjo.  It’s easy to think this stuff is time-wasting and purely a way to avoid that blank Final Draft page (and God knows, it can totally be that), but sometimes we need to dick around.  Sometimes, the cauldron in the back of our brains needs a chance to hubble and bubble.  Sometimes we’re just not ready to write (see What Writers Always Forget).

Twitter can also warm you up for a busy day.  First thing in the morning, it can be difficult to launch straight into your writing.  Knock out a few tweets to limber up your fingers and brain.  I like to start the day by tweeting nonsense, saying hello to people, checking out the latest sources of excitement and outrage - the virtual equivalent of chatting to folk over breakfast, which is in fact exactly what I’m doing.  Get involved, get engaged, warm up... then, crucially, RETREAT and WORK.  If you love Twitter as much as I do, then returning to Tweetdeck or your app of choice will feel like a reward to save for later.  Or, you know, in five minutes, when you’re not quite ‘feeling it’...

I’m on Twitter under the cryptic name of @JasonArnopp.  I also have side accounts which deal with my various niche interests: @thrasherama (thrash metal) and @ArnoppVHS (watching and collecting mad, obscure films).  See you there!

What positive benefit does Twitter bring you, whether you’re a writer or not?  Tell me in the comments below...

* * *

Join my two free mailing lists:

1) Fortnightly newsletter

2) My Sunday confession booth for creatives

And check out my:

Books | YouTube channel | Instagram | 2019 blog

Screenwriters' Festival 2009 - The Launch

At one point during the launch event for The Screenwriters’ Festival 2009, board member Kevin Loader (above, with Simon Relph) mentions that he and the rest of the board would love the SWF to become “a landmark event” for everyone involved with film, TV and the arts. It has already achieved this for me, and hundreds of others I’m sure. After the 2007 and 2008 events (which I covered on this very blog, here and here respectively), SWF is firmly ensconced as a vital part of my year. I’d go so far as to say it’s a bonus Christmas.

Perhaps the key to its magic lies in the fact that writers tend to be naturally sociable with each other. We gel. Why wouldn't we, when given the chance to talk to someone who actually understands the screaming madness? Of course, despite its name, the SWF is also for directors, producers, agents and anyone else involved with, or who aspires to be involved with, the industry.

A January launch for an October jamboree has struck some as a tad odd, but it makes sense strategically, psychologically and indeed financially. Branding the festival’s name into people’s minds as a major event for 2009, in the first month of the year, can be no bad thing. Also, as Kevin Loader points out, the sooner attendees buy their tickets, the easier it is to keep the festival an ongoing, solvent concern. Fellow board member Simon Relph admits that the SWF has “had trouble in balancing its books”, and so keeping the ship afloat is of primary concern. We can, of course, help by nabbing tickets upfront at an early bird rate – and ganging up into groups of ten, for a 10 per cent discount.

The event’s doors open at 7pm, although a few of us bloggers have already visited a nearby pub, as bloggers tend to do. We settle into a pre-event welcome drink, noting that the likes of Gosford Park writer Julian Fellowes (a longtime friend and supporter of the event – see my report on his roundtable SWF ’08 session here) and actor Nigel Planer are mingling among the throng. In this photograph, you can view the lovely Michelle Lipton, the sweary Phill Barron (holding a fairy-glass of magic moonbeams), Stuart ‘Dark Arrow’ Perry and the right honourable Piers Beckley. Splendid.


By 7.30pm, we’re all seated and applauding Festival Director David Pearson, as he introduces the launch. He explains the main reasons for the shift of venue and month – the new location, Cheltenham Ladies’ College, will enable the SWF to handle more attendees (admittedly, the previous venue at Manor By The Lake did suffer from some fairly small event rooms, lending certain sessions a slightly frenzied get-there-first feel). Furthermore, the organisers are hoping to attract more in the way of international guests. “Strangely enough,” says David, “a lot of people from outside the UK couldn’t make it on July 4.”


Julian Fellowes (above) pops up onstage to very briefly extol the virtues of the SWF – always a pleasure to see the man talk. He gives way to a 20-minute talk on Getting Your Script Made by David Thompson, who formerly ran BBC Films and now spearheads Origin Films. Admirably frank, David (below) concedes that getting films made in this country is notably difficult, for various reasons. Here are a few of his points:

• Film’s a collaborative process. If you don’t want to be a part of it, you’re probably better off sticking with novels.
  
• In film, you have to be on the edge. Whereas the centre, and the familiar, works well for television.
  
• Film thrives when people take risks, and don’t follow fashion.
  
• It’s “an alchemical process” and “a very inexact science”, in which it’s hard to be 100% sure about the choices you make (David recalls working at BBC Films and spreading six prospective scripts out on his coffee table at home, then wondering if he make the choice by letting his cat Poppy randomly sit on one).
  
• Most films take seven years to make. Revolutionary Road, BBC Films' DiCaprio/Winslet tale currently hitting cinemas, was “a quickie” at three-and-a-half years. Films are delayed by various combinations of incompetence, fear and a reluctance to commit.
  
• Timing is of the essence – capturing the country’s mood. It’s also about striking a balance between being aware of the marketplace and writing something which you know about.
  
• British film tends to have a "miserablist" tradition, when most cinema-goers want something uplifting.
  
• British writers have never been so valued in Hollywood. David has recently heard of occasions where producers specifically request a British writer.
  

At 8pm, David Pearson settles down for a chat with two of the finalists in last year’s A Pitch In Time competition – Simon Sayce and Elena Fuller, who came in Second and Third respectively. An interesting session, in which the pair describe their terror at facing the assembled SWF ’08 audience and having to pitch to the likes of Tony Jordan and Barbara Machin (see my report on that competition here). Simon reveals that, literally yesterday, he signed a deal with Red Planet Pictures for the film he pitched at the event, which is proof positive that the festival’s pitch competition can really pay dividends for writers with balls of steel.


Next up on stage is celebrated writer Olivia Hetreed (above), who wrote the film adaptation of the novel The Girl With A Pearl Earring. Endearingly nervous about speaking to the 200-or-so attendees, Olivia praises the festival and David Pearson’s courage for founding it. She talks about the various reasons why writers and directors can often be uneasy bedfellows.

Directors, she admits, can often be seen to take ownership of films. As an example, she lists a few writers like Joseph Stefano, whose names mightn’t be familiar until you realise that they all wrote Alfred Hitchcock films (Stefano wrote Psycho, the subversive madman). Hitchcock knew the value of writers, notes Olivia, although of course Psycho, Rear Window and the rest mainly go down in history as “Hitchcock films”.

Olivia discusses other potential writer/director problems, such as conflicts of ownership, dispute over the provision of credit and, of course, money. Amusingly, Olivia admits that money can cause problems because everyone on a film assumes that everyone else is secretly making all the loot.

At 8.40pm, film veteran Simon Relph and Kevin Loader take to the stage. This year will see “a seamless passing of the baton” from Simon to Kevin, in terms of hands-on work on SWF, although it seems that Simon will retain a godfatherly presence. The pair discuss the kind of things I opened this piece with, plus Simon’s hope that the SWF is progressing from being a new thing to being an ongoing tradition.


David Pearson and tireless behind-the-scenes festival genius Kenny MacDonald (above) conduct a prize raffle draw for a free ticket to SWF ’09, before the crowd breaks up and reconvenes in the bar for an hour of chat, booze, networking and peanuts. It’s good to catch up with the likes of fellow blogger and gentleman Jez Freedman, David Lemon and his good lady Rachel, Tim Clague, writer/actor Anthony Keetch, Danny ‘Stackman Crothers’ Stack, agent/TwelvePoint.com leader Julian Friedmann and writer/TwelvePoint.com stalwart Caroline Ferguson.

After the event ends at 10pm, several people end up back in the pub, where various topics are discussed, including Doctor Who, Spooks, Mormons (not a TV series – the actual religious folk), scripts and loads of stuff I’ve clearly forgotten. A tremendous evening all ‘round, which has surely whetted countless appetites for the full-blown four-day joy-fest which will be The Screenwriters’ Festival 2009.

If you’d like to grab an Early Bird ticket for this year’s event, then click here. As the event’s website points out, “Local screen agencies, such as South West Screen, Film London, Scottish Screen, and other organisations e.g. Skillset, often have grants and bursaries available to anyone in their catchment area for support to attend events like the Screenwriters’ Festival.” See you in October.

The Greatest Things About Edinburgh # 1

No, not the city itself, although judging by the three days I spent in beautiful, endlessly surprising Edinburgh, that would be a post well worth writing. I'm talking about the Edinburgh TV Festival, which I attended in full, last weekend, with Dan Turner (check out his tremendous new showreel, why don'tcha?). An excellent, inspirational affair, it's only fuelled my already raging desire to spend the rest of my days writing drama for TV.

I feel strongly that, in order to work in the industry, it's vital to understand what it is and what it wants. The TV Festival fired wall-to-wall information at us: there were onstage interviews with practically every major channel's Controller, along with individual masterclasses and some plain ol' entertainment. It was a tremendous barometer of what's happening. Whenever I get a chance, I'm going to scribble about the weekend's finest moments. Here are three for starters:

1) THE RISKY DRAMA SESSION
I began this 9.30am session somewhat bleary of eye, but was soon delighted that we'd made the effort. This hour's theme practically invited cynicism, questioning as it did the amount of risk which TV drama can and should take, so it was a real pleasure to see people onstage speaking about their endeavours with such passion as they discussed the industry's realities.

Ben Stephenson, the BBC's Head Of Drama Commissioning, was especially impressive, and not solely because of his intensely red socks. The man spoke with commendably energetic feeling about his channels' output, insisting that "all drama has to be, in some way, risky." He also pointed out that BBC shows which are perceived as 'safe', like Cranford and Doctor Who, are hardly that - in particular, it was originally a ludicrously large risk to bring back Who. Of course, these days, critics see it as the very epitome of mainstream, safe TV, but it could so easily have blown up in the Beeb's face.

You could plainly see that Stephenson loves the vast majority of the shows which he and Drama Controller Jane Tranter have commissioned, and is perfectly capable of defending them all to the hilt, talking verbal rings around anyone who suggests otherwise. There were, of course, the predictably tedious questions about the pair's supposedly iron-fisted reign. As he said on the matter, "We are the gatekeepers, and that's hard, but it's just the way it has to be." As even Channel 4's Head Of Drama Development, Robert Wulfe-Cochrane, was moved to comment, it's hard to conceive of any other way for a drama department like the BBC's to be structured.

If the session had an inherent flaw, it was that the concept of risk was somewhat nebulous. A little way into proceedings, 'risk' was somewhat weirdly taken to mean 'extreme content', on which of course the BBC has to draw a line, as is only right and proper. The chair, Mark Lawson, asked whether the assembled channel-heads would ever air a film like 9 Songs, Michael Winterbottom's yawnsome piece which featured moments of lacklustre hardcore porn (I've never seen a man ejaculate so listlessly, to be frank). Stephenson drew big laughs from the coffee-cradling crowd as he admitted, "Maybe we can't do penetrative sex, no. If anyone wants to have a go at that, talk to Robert." In a further, surreal part of this particular discussion, the topic of rimming was broached and ultimately licked. Cough.

Surely the session's finest moment came during the Q&A segment. One audience member mused aloud as to whether commissioners "know that their bad programmes are bad". For instance, he wondered, did the person who commissioned Echo Beach know it was "shit"? Stephenson peered at the person posing the question and said, "Aren't you sitting next to her?". The man was indeed sitting right next to ITV's Controller Of Drama Laura Mackie, in one of those glorious moments which you'd have been hard-pressed to set up. Mackie retained her calm impeccably as Mr Questioner desperately tried to retain his cool credentials by repeatedly asking Mackie, "Come on, it's shit, isn't it? Admit it." Which, of course, only dug him an even deeper hole - there's nothing more tiresome than someone who mistakes their own opinions for facts. I only wish that Tony Jordan had been sitting on the other side of him.

2) HENRY NORMAL
Out of hundreds of delegates at the TV Festival, only a tiny proportion were writers. I mean, literally, ten-or-so. This was an advantage in many ways, although the event isn't especially set up for networking. If it is, then most of the people networking are already within the TV industry and are looking to move upwards/sideways. On the Saturday afternoon, I sat by myself in the event's cafe area, wondering - just for a moment, you understand - if this had been entirely the right festival to attend, in terms of making new contacts.

Then someone sat right next to me at the table and we got chatting. Having read the heading of this bit, you won't be surprised to hear that it was Henry Normal. He founded Baby Cow Productions with Steve Coogan, co-created The Royle Family and has been involved with the likes of Gavin & Stacey, The Mighty Boosh and Nighty Night. Serious credentials, then, for someone who turned out to a seriously nice bloke. We chatted about this and that, and Henry said that he was impressed to see a writer come to the TV Festival, "rather than waiting for the world to come to them". Which instantly re-inserted the spring back into my step, as you can imagine.

Incidentally, it may seem that by recalling this episode, I'm implying that writers who didn't attend Edinburgh were somehow lacking. Not at all. It's just important to remember that producers clearly appreciate and respect the pro-active.

3) GRAHAM LINEHAN'S MASTERCLASS
Graham Linehan, as you'll almost certainly be aware, co-created Father Ted and single-handedly brings us The IT Crowd, as well as having a lengthy string of further, impressive CV entries. He didn't want this session to be called a masterclass, but of course it still was. It was also a real inspiration.

Linehan's presentation was, it must be said, shambolic, and endearingly so. He regularly had to refer to printed-out notes, having forgotten what he was about to say, and generally seemed ill at ease onstage. We didn't care about this nervous fumbling, of course, because when he wasn't grinding to a vaguely awkward halt, genuine nuggets of wisdom were flying out of his mouth. Linehan wasn't reinventing the comedic wheel, but he presented some very interesting opinions and, most importantly, made writing comedy seem so simple... and fun.

He told us how procrastination, like ridicule, is nothing to scared of. This confirmed something I've been very much feeling lately - if writing a script is being endlessly delayed by displacement activities, there's no need to beat yourself up about it. Your brain is actually gathering "ammunition", as Linehan put it, and preparing itself to splurge the script onto the screen. Eventually, says Linehan, you reach a point when you can't not let it all out.

The great man spoke out against today's cultural state of affairs whereby almost anything goes in comedy, in terms of explicit content. This, he reasoned, is a bad thing, as it robs comedy of subtlety and effectively makes it less inventive. As an example of comedy being risque without actually, verbally, saying anything offensive, he offered up the episode of Seinfeld which saw characters engage in a contest whereby they're not allowed to masturbate.

Linehan also shared some ingeniously simple sitcom building blocks:

(i) While a film's story structure, which sees a character end up completely different to how they began, can be summed up as "A to Z", the sitcom's structure is essentially "A to B to A" - the character basically ending up where they began.

(ii) Sitcoms, he says, are almost always based on traps. But this works on two levels - the characters are trapped in some way, but the audience must also be trapped, in terms of buying the situation. They must believe that the character couldn't possibly escape their ticklesome trap. As an example, Linehan showed us a scene from one of his favourite films, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, in which Michael Caine takes great delight in tormenting Steve Martin, who is pretending to be crippled and wheelchair-bound.

(iii) Linehan admitted that a sitcom's content can be as simple as "three or so great set-pieces, preferably with the last one happening at the end. If you have those set-pieces, then you can join them up with a load of gags!".

What with the pincer-movement combination of Normal's encouragement and Linehan's inspirational methodology, it was no wonder that I had a peachy sitcom idea rattling around my head by the time the weekend was out.

More Edinburgh, as and when. If I don't see you before, have the kind of week which inspires feather-spitting envy in others.

Screenwriters' Festival: Scribomeet With Us

The Screenwriters' Festival will be here in just over two weeks. A fantastic event for old pros and fresh-faced up-and-comers alike, it runs from July 1-3.

Being ridiculously excited about the Festival, Piers Beckley and I will be there in Cheltenham the evening before, June 30. And we're hosting an informal Scribomeet event, that very night. Nothing big, nothing fancy. Open to anyone. Purely an opportunity to you to turn up and say hello to us and whoever else is there.

So if those butterflies are already starting to multiply in your stomach at the very thought of networking and meeting new people, this should be a fine way to dip a toe in the water of chat, then start the Festival with some reassuringly familiar faces in mind.

We'll be in the Cheltenham Travelodge's Harvester bar, from 6pm. See you there!

How To Do Various Things At Cannes

1. How To Hail A Taxi
This cannot be done, no matter how many times you point at the road, while casually looking away (see example below), to make out you're nonchalant about the whole thing. These people will not stop, under any circumstances. It's very likely that, come 2am, you'll be drenched by rain and standing in a taxi rank a mile long, with the added insult of the occasional sly old crone brazenly jumping the queue and commandeering an eight-person people carrier.


2. How To Look Very Important
At all times, it is vital to have as many portable media/communication/organisation devices on the table in front of you as possible (see below). Onlookers will see these and think, "Dear God, these men must be behemoths in the film world. Behemoths, do you hear me?". And clearly, they will hear themselves, because they're only thinking inside their own minds.


3. How To Stop And Admire The View
Step One: cease moving. Step Two: open eyes. Step Three: usher images into your brain. Repeat these steps as often as possible. Ideally, concentrate on Step Three for several hours at a time by the shore at the Cannes Century club, with a cold beverage to lubricate your throat. After all, you'll be needing that throat to babble nonsense through, rather a lot.


4. How To Freak Yourself The Hell Out
Spend a few hours discussing one of your favourite scary movies, and the creepy performance of one of its stars: for instance Lost Highway and Bill Pullman. Then spend even more hours with your mouth flapping like a fish, after the star - Bill Pullman, for instance - walks up, politely asks if a chair at your table is taken, then sits down with a large dinner party at the adjacent table.

5. How To Make Your Arms Look Very Long
This is simply a matter of maximising the distance between your fingertips and shoulders (see Dan Turner's exemplary demonstration below). Not only does this shriek, "Cannes is mine!", but it makes film industry people want to deal with you, for two reasons. Firstly, they realise that you'll give the finest end-of-meeting hugs available to humanity. Secondly, they fear that when provoked, you'll be able to lash out like some kind of hand-faced cobra.


6. How To Avoid A Heart Attack
If you encounter Rob Sprackling, the man who wrote Mike Bassett: England Manager, then at all costs give him a wide berth. Sprackling is a dangerous man. He will talk and talk until you can laugh no more, and are reduced to crying into hands cupped over your unattractively red face. You have been warned.



7. How To Avoid Seeing Any Films
This, you'll find to be surprisingly straightforward. It's best achieved by only hitting Cannes for an intense 48 hours of meetings and Admiring The View. Even if there's a film you genuinely want to see, such as fellow Brit Chris Jones' stylish short Gone Fishing, chances are that a meeting will over-run and scupper such an idea. If staying at Cannes for longer than 48 hours, simply endeavour to avoid any dark spaces - chances are, they'll have a film showing in them.

8. How To Drink Champagne Responsibly
This is notoriously difficult to achieve. The first glass feels fine, as does the 15th. But before you know it, you're talking shit. The effect is magnified if you're standing on a balcony in Cannes, overlooking the sea: you're much more likely to make outrageous, untrue statements, while utilising an accent 2.5 times posher than your own. See the video below for an example of two bell-ends (or, in French, bell-endes) who have quaffed more than their fair share.

I'm Diablo Cody's MySpace Pal...

... along with 10,815 other people. Took the edge off a bit, if I'm honest.

As I haven't posted for a while, and have no time for a proper post, I thought I'd give you a taster of what's coming up on (insert snazzy jingle here) Bloggery-Pokery.

Behold!

1) A Q&A with Toby Whithouse, creator of No Angels and Being Human, and writer for the likes of Doctor Who.

2) The story behind my two-second appearance on last night's episode of Doctor Who.

3) A report from the Writers' Guild's recent Long-Running Series event, hosted by the BBC's John Yorke.

Who knows in which order these items will appear? Or when?

Oh yes, my friends, your lips will never have been so licked.

Hmmmm...

Three Things

THING ONE

The other day, I did something unusually posh. Along with a few other journalist-author hybrids, I went for afternoon tea with author Lisa Jewell, at The Wolesley in Central London. Yes yes, I know: hoighty-toighty, and no mistake. Joan Collins was sitting nearby, wearing a nice beret. There were three-tier stands laden with finger sandwiches, cakes and scones. There was champagne. There were fancy pots of tea with those fancy strainers. And get this: Earl Grey was available!

It was the kind of social gathering which could have been horrendous - especially as I was arriving more tired that I'd been in months. But thankfully, not only was Lisa a genuinely lovely person, free of airs and indeed graces, but every single one of my fellow author/journalists (all female - hooray!) were lovely too. Sweet merry Christ, there was a veritable vortex of loveliness, swirling around our table. Two-and-a-half hours passed like a snap of the fingers, and Lisa's PR Natalie produced her entire back catalogue, all of which Lisa proceeded to sign for my young lady April, who cites Lisa as her favourite author. All very nice indeed. Jewell fans may also be interested to know that (a) her next novel, which she has completed and is due out this time next year, will be "very sad" and (b) the novel after that will be a sequel to her debut novel, Ralph's Party. You might also be interested to hear that Lisa's nicely-designed website features her written account of how she came to be a top author, along with some writing and getting-published tips.

THING TWO

"This is gonna be nasty. I can only apologise in advance".

No, not the words of Captain John in last night's excellent Torchwood season finale, but those of my osteopath, yesterday. What with going on holiday imminently (see Thing Three), I thought I'd go along for the first time in 18 months, for a general check-up. But it was also partly because my legs were feeling a bit odd (insert joke here). Turned out that my pelvis was a tad twisted, and needed to be clunk-clunk-clunked back into place.

Somewhere around 1999, I came down with Repetitive Strain Injury. This was partly due to excessive workloads (some things never change) and the poor ergonomic set-up of my work-desk (which has since changed, with gel wrist-rests and all that jazz). It took a few years of physio and osteo-type treatment to get back on an even keel, and I'm fine now (as indicated by that whopping 18-month gap since my last osteo visit), but I feel obliged to warn the Scribosphere that RSI is No Fun. It might be bandied around, like it's a bit of a laugh, or something that's never gonna happen. But it's horrible to go through. Unless, of course, you like losing the use of one hand and watching its fingers twitch involuntarily, driving you insane... I particularly advise against James Moran's (now abandoned) standing-up-and-typing routine. The man's a one-off man-mental, and was lucky to emerge with both paws intact, I tell you!

THING THREE

I like Thing Three. Oh yes. For the first time in almost two years, I'm going on a proper holiday. I won't be taking the laptop, and I'll be disabling the delivery of e-mail to my BlackBerry (you have to really watch those costs when you're abroad, for one thing, as I've previously found to my alarm). This will be a proper week of non-keyboarding, non-scripting, non-everything behaviour. And God, I need it. So I'm off today - goodbye you lovely people. If you know where I live, feel free to come around and help yourself to my extensive range of silver candlesticks. Stripey jumper optional.

And while I'm away, I'd like you to discuss the following pressing issue: to what extent does the lesbianism of contemporary pornography represent the lesbianism of the real world?

It's either that, or the works of Proust.

Good day to you.

PS Did I mention that Doctor Who starts tonight, on BBC1, 6.20pm? I can't recall...

It's All Becoming Real

An exciting day, to say the least. At lunchtime, I met the two leading actors set for our short film, which will be shot this month. They were lovely people, and seem so right for the roles. One of them is also potentially in the frame for the feature-length ASK, which is nice to bear in mind while writing that script. I came home in the afternoon, all fired up, and hammered out some pages.

The short film is called Look At Me - a somewhat freaky tale of relationships, voyeurism and sex. Gotta love the sex. Locations are being sorted, and I'm stunned by how quickly it's all coming together. That'll be the relentless drive and enthusiasm of director Dan Turner at Magician Pictures, then. Can't wait to see LAM on screen.

This evening, I went to a screening of an exceedingly poor horror film called Shrooms, about some American students necking the titular drug while on holiday in Ireland. Featuring characters doing insanely stupid things and falling over every five minutes, it was partly commissioned by the Irish Film Board. If nothing else, it gave me hope, when stuff like this can get bankrolled. I was only too happy when the end-titles appeared, and I was able to hurtle from the screening rooms like some crazy champagne cork. I went along to the Development Pool - a monthly gathering of creative types who meet, drink booze and gossip. Much more fun.

Social Flurry

Yesterday was quite the day for fraternizing. In fact, this entire week has been gloriously insane and I'm now quite ready to sink into the weekend... for some hardcore scriptwriting.

I spent the day working at heat magazine, which is a pleasure in itself. Even though I'm generally allergic to office toil, this place makes temping a dream, with a relaxed atmosphere and absolutely lovely folk. And yes, I'd say the same if we were sitting in a pub. As I hope we will, sometime soon.

I went out for lunch with Doctor Who/Torchwood/Severance scribbler James Moran. Wasn't entirely sure about the way he continually touched me, under the cafe table. Still, I figured this is the way it works, if writers like myself are to get on in the business and "keep in with the big boys" as Moran put it, with a salacious gleam in his eye. Ho ho, just a bit of hilarious fun there - it was a splendid hour of banter, free of sexual politics, which flashed by like it was 10 minutes.

After work, I went over to the Fitzroy Tavern, which has an informal Doctor Who-related gathering on the first Thursday of every month. While it's a great event, I was mainly there to collar The Empty Child/Girl In The Fireplace/Blink writer Steven Moffat, walk with the great man to a nearby quieter pub and interview him. It's for a Doctor Who Magazine feature which I came up with, partly for selfish reasons, as it will give readers an insight into how he operates as a writer. Very exciting stuff, even if it won't be published until something like May 2008, what with featuring Top Secret Stuff.

After that, I went to the Curzon Soho Cinema. A group of film-making folk gather in its pleasant bar on the first Thursday of every month, under the collective banner of The Development Pool, for wine, networking and script-development chat. Met a couple of new people and a few familiar faces, including the Nice Producer I mentioned a few posts ago. Despite him having been a few sheets to the wind when I first met him, it seems he really is keen to discuss me writing a 90-second short which he will then make. So we're meeting again next week. Fingers crossed.

Yes, that was a good day for hob-nobbing. I shall leave you with an unrelated quote from Wall To Wall's chief exec Alex Graham. I found it in my notebook from Stella Network's Pitch Up event...

"It's almost impossible to get one-off dramas made on television. The companies toss them out like doggie treats to their favourite writers."

Looks like we'd better set about becoming companies' favourite writers then, folks...

Winners! And how networking works...

I've never been part of a winning pub quiz team. Until tonight. Got drafted into a Shooting People pub quiz this evening, in Charing Cross Road's rather sizeable Montagu Pyke hostelry (formerly the legendary Marquee club, pop-pickers). It was a fun event, well organised and with good humour - even if the Pyke's technically less than ideal, with bad acoustics and a layout which doesn't exactly aid mingling. But you guessed it: we, The Development Pool, won. Hooray! My individual winnings were a DVD of Guide To Recognising Your Saints, an issue of Moviescope and - clearly the best bit - a year's extension to my Shooting People membership.

So how does networking dovetail into it all? Well, I was invited by the lovely Sarah Colley, a script reader and editor who I met at the Cheltenham Screenwriter's Festival. During this evening, I met more Nice People. Including a Nice Producer, who asked if I fancied working on a short horror script with him. So we'll see how that goes. But that's the joy of business card-swapping. You never know where it'll take you. Much like writing itself...

Channel 4's 4Talent launch party cum schmooze-fest

Just returned from this soiree, which was held at the flash C4 building on Horseferry Road. A three-hour shindig ostensibly celebrating the re-launch of the 4Talent website but also feeling like a morale-boosting taster for C4's 25th anniversary celebrations coming in October, it kicked off around 6.30pm with speeches from such bigwigs as the channel's chief exec Andy Duncan and Labour MP Shaun Woodward (in the May 2006 reshuffle, Tony Blair appointed the latter Parliamentary Under Secretary of State at the Department for Culture, Media and Sport with responsibilities for the digital handover for TV - thanks, Wikipedia!). Woodward's smoothly delivered address was particularly interesting, in that he directly tackled the channel's "recent hiccups", noting that only that morning, he had been defending C4 in the House of Commons, over the recent controversial Princess Diana documentary and of course the Shetty-vs-Goody fiasco of this year's Celebrity Big Brother. After praising the assembled staff for the way they handled both difficult patches, he also spoke slightly ominously of the question-mark which hangs over the channel's funding in three years' time.

Speeches complete, it was naturally time to press the flesh. I initially froze somewhat, gazing around the large, well-populated room and not recognising any faces. Of course, schmoozing isn't strictly about hunting out people you already know. Within a minute or so, director Klaus Fried sidled over with a smile and randomly started a conversation. I was thankful. Klaus handled the opening documentary in C4's New Shoots series earlier this year, which presented debut docs from disabled directors (try saying that after a few free champagnes). I also briefly met Daniel, another director from that series.

After that, I bumped into director/writer/editor Tim Mewton, who I'd met for the first time a mere five days ago when we both attended Living Spirit's Make It In Hollywood day-class (notes for which I must write up soon). Then I decided to just walk around and randomly chat to people who seemed approachable. Strolling through a crowd including the odd celeb like the lovely Kirstie Allsopp (who I once interviewed for heat and bonded with over the fact that our surnames both arguably have a superfluous 'p'), I met people from various far-flung corners of C4: someone from the library, someone else from advertising, two people from the On Demand division, an in-house contract lawyer and a personal trainer who was here with his documentary producer pal. I also chatted to an aspiring producer named Nick, and a nice lady from White Storm Films, who recommended David Hyams as a fine agency to aim for. Last but certainly not least, I met Carole Sheridan, Head Of Talent & Creativity at Scottish Screen. As you'd expect from a true professional like Carole (who has worked with Adrian Mead on most of his projects, including Night People which Lucy Vee recently saw screened in Edinburgh), she was the only new contact I met all night who had a business card. What is it, with people and business cards, or rather the lack of them? Then again, thinking about it, maybe Ms Sheridan was the only person who wanted to give me a card...

On the way out, somewhere around 10pm, everyone was handed a special commemorative hardback book, celebrating two-and-a-half decades of C4. Entitled 'Thank You!', it's actually a really nice, collectable item, colourfully cataloguing the channel's finest luminaries, moments and shows. One of the more amusing pages is devoted to a fax from LA's Chateau Marmont hotel. It simply reads: "Channel 4?! Is that still going? How sweet!! Simon Pegg".