Now then, you... yes, you there, with the electronic quill. Listen up. Last February, I went to a tremendous screenwriting event in Darlington called The Story Engine. A smoothly-run conference with clear, demonstrable passion for the subject matter. You can read my blog-summary of it here and then a specific account of Robin Hood writer Lisa Holdsworth's pitch-doc masterclass here.
The Story Engine returns, next month, in lovely Newcastle on May 5 & 6. I'm certainly planning to help prop up the bar, as well as enjoying the various case studies, panel discussions, workshops and networking lunches. Divert your eyeballs towards the website here, for all the information your creative li'l heart desires.
It's been a while since there was a proper get-together of scribblers. Thankfully, the unstoppable Piers Beckley and Sara Baroni have stepped up to the plate and organised one.
Shrieks Piers, dressed as the Devil: "It's in the Knights Templar pub in London on Thursday 16th July from 7pm till closing! In this pub at this time we will be drinking beer, and talking about the UK screenwriting industry!"
Sounds great to me. See you there.
And coming very soon, like some kind of crazy Trident missile: a full and frank report from the London screening of our sketch show Splendid. For attendee Phill Barron's delightful account of the evening, click here, why don'tcha? UPDATE: Splendid co-creator Dan 'Mr Daniel' Turner has just posted a post too!
The Story Engine, held over two days at Darlington Arts Centre back in late February, was a tremendously enjoyable and worthwhile event. While smaller than the awesome Screenwriters’ Festival, it nevertheless makes an absolute virtue of its more modest scale, with relatively intimate workshop sessions, fine Q&As, speed-pitching sessions and an excellent line-up of writer-guests including Simon Beaufoy (Slumdog Millionaire, in picture to the left of organiser Ian Fenton, below), Lisa Holdsworth (Waterloo Road, New Tricks), James Moran (Doctor Who, Torchwood), David Lemon (Faintheart, Doctors), James Harris (self-starting comedy writer – see website), playwright David Edgar and film-maker Tina Gharavi (Ali In Wonderland, also a film-maker) plus the Writersroom North’s project manager Katherine Beacon, splendidly-named development consultant Ludo Smolski and many more.
Like the best writers’ events, The Story Engine offered plenty of opportunity to network, mingle and meet new people, as well as catch up with familiar faces (like Gavin Williams, Lara Greenway and Chris Parr). The Arts Centre is a really nice venue for an event like this, with plenty of rooms of differing sizes and, of course, the all-important bar. While being a tremendous laugh, of course, it also delivered a whole host of information. An info-buffet, if you will. Particularly evident throughout was organizer Ian’s passion and drive – as a writer himself, Ian has a lot to say, and an event for writers assembled by a writer can only be a good thing. You could tell that Ian was determined not to rest until each and every attendee had value-for-money spewing out of their ears.
TV's James Moran gave a splendid live audio commentary for his Torchwood episode Sleeper (see him in the midst of doing it, right, while engaging in a good old chin-stroke), as well as taking part in a whole slew of other sessions, including Working With An Agent, which also featured Curtis Brown's Amanda Davis, New Writing North director Claire Malcolm and Lisa Holdsworth). The Moranster ended up with vocal cords torn to shreds in a manner which only booze could rescue. During this event, our hotel bar saw the birth of the "unlaugh", which is a terrible intake of ghastly air, inspired by something deeply unamusing. Here's a delightful picture of me, Uncle Jimbo, the gorgeous Dan Turner and a bowl of salad on a shelf, which was vigorously tossed in three different ways, shortly after this snap was captured:
And for those of you understandably craving a look at that salad from a different angle, with bonus grinning bell-ends in the foreground:
Here's a simply divine photograph of David Lemon, who also got stuck into the event, appearing on various panels like New Horizons ("How is the internet changing the way we consume drama?") and My First Feature Film (about writing Faintheart, which was screened during the event, along with Slumdog Millionaire).
The Story Engine, then: a right royal blast. I fully suggest you attend the next one: I'll certainly be there. The next post, up soon, will be my one full report of a Story Engine workshop: Lisa Holdsworth's session on pitch documents. Tremendous!
Been traveling around a lot lately, as I'm working for a new online drama production, based outside London. Blimey, there's a lot of online drama about, no? But I'm having real fun with this one, and think it'll go the distance.
I'm traveling again today, heading up north for The Story Engine, aka The Northern Screenwriters' Conference. If you're vaguely near the area and like a bit of screenwriting, then you simply must attend. Because if you don't, myself and event-speakers James Moran and David Lemon will pay you a visit and tickle your extremities until you perish from the sheer delight of it all. Could be messy.
Oscar-winning Slumdog Millionaire scribbler Simon Beaufoy is speaking at the event, which also features various workshops and of course networking ops. See you there. Or, at your place, for the ticklage.
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.
Warning: this review of the year contains exclusive images and video footage which may excite your eyes and mind.
Happy New Year! Professionally shrieking, 2008 was a damn fine 12 months. 2009 will be even better, but I'll remember 2008 as a li'l gem. Here are some of the reasons why...
In February, my first short film Look At Me received its London premiere. This was probably the most exciting and overwhelming night of the year - not least because so many good people turned up to see the film which Dan Turner directed and I wrote. It was also tremendous when then-Torchwood-showrunner Chris Chibnall called me a "mad, brilliant bastard" after viewing it, while one Russell T Davies called it "one of the most chilling things I've seen". Job done.
Here's a never-before-seen interview with actress Kimberly Williams (nee Butler), from the set of Look At Me, in which she reveals what it's really like to work with director Dan Turner:
In April, I was in Doctor Who, which was utterly mental. Only for two seconds, mind, but nevertheless I was in Doctor Who. Can't get much better than that. Here I am in the make-up trailer, and on set with a UNIT soldier threatening to blow my brains out:
Nice. The year saw me attending various top-notch events - chief among them being, of course, the Screenwriters' Festival 2008. Piers and I hosted a very successful pre-event Scribomeet on June 30, which was tremendous fun, and hopefully something we can repeat in '09. Oh, and here's a little video-treat of TV's James Moran talking about showrunners on a stage alongside Tony Jordan, Barbara Machin and Philip Shelley (who would all prove invaluable to me, thanks to the Red Planet Prize, inspiration and great notes respectively):
Then there was the whirlwind fun of Cannes 2008 (big lesson learnt there: during a meeting, don't point out typos... on anything); the San Sebastian Horror & Fantasy Festival; and the Edinburgh TV Festival. Here's a lovely moment when Dan Turner and I arrived at an Edinburgh party, only to be confronted by two big fellas:
Perhaps the most ludicrous moment of the year can be seen on the following video, during my time at the brilliant Fantasticfest in Austin, Texas, along with TV's James Moran, writer/editor Jay Slater and director Sean Hogan, plus our gracious host Eric from the festival. We were driving to a shooting range, while banjo-twanging country music played on the radio. To complete the picture, I seem to be laughing like some kind of hillbilly. Utterly preposterous.
Of course, I got a lot of writing done too. Not as much as I'm going to do in 2009, but a fair bit. My proudest achievement here was writing the first draft of the film Blood Red Sky in five-and-a-half days. A feat of near-Barronian proportions. And frankly, that first draft turned out pretty well. The latest draft is well on its way, too, so I'm really hoping that BRS gets shot next year.
There was further development work on The Accidental Serial Killer; a new TV spec by the name of Happy Ever After, which has attracted the attention of industry folk and garnered some good feedback; another TV spec called The God Exclusive; a short called The Good Magician; various scripts for the TV sketch show Splendid (another 2009 contender and a really exciting prospect); and the pilot episode for my series Undying, which has made the finals of the Red Planet Prize. Hearing this news was, unsurprisingly, another major highlight of my year, to say the very least.
I embarked on the road to my first BBC credit, by impressing the good folk behind Radio 4 sketch show Recorded For Training Purposes. It seems that at least one of my sketches will be performed before a studio audience in the coming weeks. Provided they laugh, I'll be laughing too, like some kind of drain.
I kept a few toes in the journalistic pool, interviewing the likes of Piers Morgan, Dermot O'Leary, David Morrissey and Matt Di Angelo for heat magazine and continuing to contribute to Doctor Who Magazine (although from June onwards, I made the tough decision to take on much less reporting work). Also reserved some exclusive interviews for this very blog, because I love you: Doctor Who's incoming showrunner Steven Moffat; Peep Show writers Sam Bain and Jesse Armstrong; and Human Nature creator Toby Whithouse.
2008 was a great year for TV - not least because genre continued to make its presence felt. Apparitions, Survivors, Demons (starts ITV, Jan 3) and Merlin, plus of course the continued success of Who, Torchwood, The Sarah Jane Adventures and Primeval, are all are very encouraging signs that this is a playground where I can really feel at home. Other great series continued to have me raring for a shot at them, including Hustle (Series Five starts soon - and it's great, despite the cast shuffle), Spooks, Waking The Dead, Wire In The Blood, Hollyoaks, Doctors (Vivien's rape story was incredibly strong and brave), Silent Witness and good old EastEnders.
This year, I continued to love-love-love the scribosphere community - for inspiration, encouragement and social value. Here are just a few of my favourite Sweet Christ, That's Useful posts from the year, in no particular order:
Robin Kelly's Guide To The First 10 Minutes Of TV Pilots. Lord Kelly deserves an extra toast, I think, for being The Gift That Keeps On Giving, all year 'round. He collates shards of screenwriting wisdom, newspaper reviews, curios, trinkets and eccentric music choices, so that you don't have to. And whereas I and most others spend the year blathering on about their work and their progress, it's a rare moment when The Kelly talks about himself. Here's to the great man. Clink.
So, then. 2009. I have plenty of resolutions, but they're staying inside my head. And on the sheet of A4 pinned to my desk's noticeboard. I'll tell you two things - there are a lot of them, and I'll be doing a lot of typing this year. I'll also be watching a great deal of old Doctor Who, as part of the Four Year Mission to which Piers, Dan and John 'Caution' Harrison have also signed up.
As the endlessly inspirational Dan Turner evocatively wrote to me in an e-mail this afternoon: "Grab ALL your guns, sir. We going shooting..."
Yee, and indeed, hawwwwww!
I shall leave you with the highlight of last night's all-new Shooting Stars show. George Dawes, singing the already-legendary Innovations. During the year, I was memed with the task of presenting a song which sums up writing. I failed to find one. Until now. This, for me, is it. Good day to you.
God, I love writers. Weirdly, when you introduce two directors to each other, they'll often look distinctly wary. Why, you might as well place a cat next to a dog. Writers, however, are a different matter. We love to share our stories of pain, delight and displacement. Why, you might as well place a cat next to a cat, then throw in some cream.
Some stalwart members of the blogosphere post pictures of themselves. Some don't. So you may occasionally be left wondering what the latter bunch look like - and will therefore enjoy the following photos. Yes, a load of bloggers got together for a Christmas booze-fest the other day, and I captured some of their souls with a modern-day device. It was a truly overwhelming night - everywhere you looked, there was a brilliant person. Really hard to know who to talk to next. A few of the attendees who somehow managed to escape my roving lens of doom were David Lemon and his good lady Rachel, Katharine Way and Sarah Olley. The crafty geese.
First up, here's master Oli, all the way from Devon. Oli's looking justifiably delighted, because he's just had a very good day in London. Which he still hasn't revealed the details of on his blog, so I shan't here.
The early part of the evening was sadly marred by an angry debate about exactly how big the average adult baboon's head might be. Here's Stevyn throwing in his two penn'orth, as Piers and Janet look on, disgruntled and positively itching to have their say:
The delightful Lara spent much of the night at a 45-degree angle, which was initially a shock, but we soon made allowances. Here, we see Lord Perry manfully stepping up to the plate and keeping the good lady propped.
Next, we see a sad example of the kind of bitching which is rife in the scribosphere. The evil Baron Von Barronhausen and The Stack Attack are quite literally talking behind Paul's back here, calling him a greedy bastard for having both an EastEnders and a Holby airing on April 21, 2009. Paul's fully aware of what they're saying and maintains a brave face, but the pain is all too evident:
Ultimately, however, it's all too much. When his fellow writers start slagging off his "silly writing shed", Paul moves over to talk to Piers and Janice about Phill and Danny, while furiously necking a pint like it's mere orange juice.
Ahhhhh, the lovely Michelle! The Brighton-based scribe has a remarkable idiosyncrasy - whenever she consumes her 27th pint, she starts to hallucinate ants. Here, we see her happily pointing out two of them, while Phill pretends not to hear and attempts to keep a straight face...
... but ultimately fails.
Here's cheeky Lara again (and Nick, loitering), still at 45-degrees after consuming everything on this table. Shortly after this picture was taken, she did a little 45-degrees dance for us. I've never seen the like in all my born days:
All ludicrous things must sadly come to an end. Here's Stevyn, waving goodbye to you. He's only going to the Gents, but he likes to wave.
And here's Lara again, magically upright thanks to an elaborate pulley system suspended from the ceiling. The landlord helped us rig it up, fearing that if she never left, he might run out of gin. She's waving goodbye too! Oh, and look: there's the tops of the David and Rachel's craniums.
But hold on, Stevyn and Lara: we can't let you get away that easily. Come on, just one last pose - perhaps with just a soupcon of camp thrown in? Could you? Indulge us. It's Christmas! Ah, there we go. That's the business:
On the first day of Christmas, my true love kicked me in the nuts. But that's another story. Here, for your delight and astonishment, are a dozen vaguely festive morsels. Nine good, one sad-but-celebratory, then another two good ones to end on. Where to begin, hmmm? In no particular order:
1) My full Red Planet Prize script, Undying, has long been submitted for the finals. Thanks to everyone who helped me shape it, over the last few months, into what I now reckon is my best work – the one who read several drafts and gave splendid notes; the one who made me lose one of my favourite lines; the one who helped me turn a clunky, creaking plot-point into a well-oiled beauty; and the one who swore at me a lot (okay, yes, that was Phill). While it would naturally be insanely incredible to win, I’ve realised that my Number One goal is to show RP supremo Tony Jordan that I can write. If I can achieve that, I’ll be delighted. So let’s see. There are 72 finalists, but I’m not thinking in terms of odds – it’s not a lottery. If any of the other 71 scripts are better than mine, then I won’t win. Simple as that. And while I'm waiting, I'm going to write another script.
2)Doctor Who Short Trips: Christmas Around The World, the collection of short stories to which I’ve contributed, is quite literally out now. Your yuletide experience will not be the same without it. My story's called Christmas Every Day, and involves people being eaten. TV’s James Moran’s in this tremendous tome too, temporarily becoming The Literary World’s James Moran in the process. His story is a thing of beauty, my friends. And wasn't his Spooks episode a belter? Ooh yes.
3) Lo and behold, I have my first Script Editor credit, on a nifty new short film called Big Mistake. I’ll let its writer/director Dan Turner tell you all about that when he’s good and ready, but it was very instructive and fulfilling to follow the project from start to finish - especially as with Dan being such a can-do dynamo, it happened like a click of the fingers.
4) The sketch show Splendid, run by Dan Turner and actor/writer/radio host Richard Glover, becomes increasingly exciting. We had a meeting a few weeks ago which was simultaneously nerve-wracking and thrilling. Picture this: several writers around a table, each with print-outs of their sketch-scripts. Each sketch gets passed around in turn, then is discussed and placed on either a Yes, No or Maybe pile. As you might imagine, this process can generate a fair bit of anxiety – hence the small vat of red wine I consumed as the evening went on, despite doing rather well with my own efforts. It reminded me of the 1988 Chevy Chase film Funny Farm, which every writer should see. There’s a scene where he gives his novel manuscript to his wife to read (as a wrapped present!), then sits there, watching her every reaction. “What are you doing?” he protests, as she turns a page. “That was a big laugh, right there!”
5) My TV spec script Happy Ever After has been receiving favourable responses from the great and good. Comments have included “it is always really useful to know writers who clearly love a particular genre” (in this case, horror), “a cracking read”, “absolute page turner, good sense of jeopardy and wit” and “the best damn thing I’ve ever read.” Admittedly, that last one was me.
6)Look At Me plays Hollywood next year! Yes, the short which I wrote and Dan Turner directed is playing the British Film Fest in May. I am very much liking those apples.
7)Apparitions has become my favourite new drama series of the year, by a fair old margin. Martin Shaw proves he’s underrated as an actor, bringing an infectiously subtle presence to the freaky proceedings. Once upon a time, you could have easily taken the Pepsi Challenge with BBC One and Channel 4 shows, guessing which were which. These days, the likes of Apparitions, with its countless taboo topics, bloody murder and untold blasphemy, are mixing it right up.
8) Developments are afoot on what will hopefully be Dan Turner and I's next film collaboration, the feature Blood Red Sky. I delivered a new draft over the last few weeks, which is drawing us ever closer to our desired feast of scares, shocks and people's faces exploding.
9)The Screenwriters’ Festival have announced their 2009 dates! Now, while the event is one of my very favourite things in the calendar, I must confess to being gutted that the next SWF is in October. This is for the best reasons, though – I just don’t want to have to wait another 10 months for it.
10) Before launching fully into the Christmas spirit, I always spare a whole load of thoughts for Ray Palmer. Legendary rock photographer, champion drinker and an utter charmer, Ray was one of my very best friends. Of course, the past tense will have given the game away there: Ray died six years ago today, whereupon I created a tribute site for him here. I’m going for a drink later, and every last one will be in his honour. Especially the sixth. Here’s to Ray Palmer. Clink.
11) Last night, I dreamt that I was in M Night Shyamalan's underrated film The Happening. Or, rather, in the situation: a world being torn apart by an invisible enemy. It was terrifying, seemed to last as long as the film itself and even threw in new details when people started turning into plants. I found myself wishing I'd mastered Piers' intriguing lucid dreaming technique, as then I could have flown or had sex, rather than frantically beg loved ones not to go off in the city by themselves.
12)Six must-read posts on the blogosphere, as we shriek, are Danny 'Stackman Crothers' Stack's illuminating ruminations on Reading, Writing, Networking, Being An Industry Insider, Getting An Agent and Discipline. If you haven't already, then please read them with the ocular orbs in your head which Satan bestowed upon you.
In a fiendishly clever move to promote his imminent Blue Cat screenwriting workshops in London, Hollywood script guru Gordy Hoffman has been contributing guest-posts to the UK's finest screenwriting blogs. Luckily, he's also decided to write one for mine.
As with his other posts, Gordy invited me to ask him a question to kick-start his article. Here it is:
Even in this age of super-fast global communication, it's true to say that UK screenwriters often feel quite isolated from the Hollywood system. What, in your view, are the best ways for them to go about invading Hollywood with their spec masterpieces?
And here are Gordy's thoughts...
This is a question I get often, and it comes from writers all over the world. I guess everyone feels like they are isolated from the Hollywood system, simply because they don’t live in Los Angeles. Trust me, many writers right here in Hollywood feel quite isolated, thank you very much. So if the writer in London is isolated, and the writer in New York feels the same way, along with the one in Phoenix, what about the one in Studio City? Where does this feeling of isolation come from? Isn’t this a perception? There are writers being discovered who do not live in Los Angeles all the time. It can’t be a problem with geography. It must be something else.
We have a choice in our professional attitudes. We can characterize ourselves as being isolated because we live thousands of miles away from the Hollywood sign. Or we can believe we can get our material in front of any person in the world. It’s correct you’re not going to bump into many industry people at your local coffee shop if you don’t live in LA. That’s a fact. But what does that do for the people here? They have access, by sheer proximity. Does that ensure success? Of course not. That’s ridiculous.
The answer to your question is in your question. You need a masterpiece. Um, well, maybe not a masterpiece. But you need something that everyone who lives on your street thinks is wonderful. Right? Why would you think it would be any other way? Why do writers focus on how to break into the Hollywood system, how to land an agent or manager, etc., while they continue to get notes and comments from their fellow writers encouraging them to rewrite their work?
The wall of isolation is in the quality of your work. It’s not a very sexy answer. But it’s true. The barrier is the story’s problems. This is the path of invasion. Opening your ears to the issues of your screenplay and continuing to work, wherever you sleep.
If you do have something that everyone loves in your home town, send emails out to the agencies and managers of writers you’d admire, and see if anyone, even the intern, will read it. If you can get the person who runs the copier to read your script, and they become a fan, this is a great thing. As they will be promoted. And promoted. Any connections you do make have value. Don’t worry if it’s not the principal of the company reading your work.
But more importantly, keep the focus on improving your screenplay and making it better. If you do finally write a gem, trust me, it will find it’s way out of the woods, be it Cardiff or Encino.
Thanks Gordy - and please forgive me for illustrating this post with a Chuck Norris poster. Any excuse, and I'll grab it with both hands.
It's hopefully not too late to bag a seat at one of the man's forthcoming Blue Cat workshops. The one-day Ten Page Workshop sessions run on August 12, 13 and 14, while the Art Of Screenwriting two-dayer shakes the capital on August 16 and 17.
THE BLUECAT SCREENWRITING WORKSHOPS LONDON - August 12-17, 2008 Birkbeck, University of London Malet Street, Bloomsbury London WC1E 7HX
This time next week, I'll be arriving in Cheltenham, the night before the Screenwriters' Festival 2008. Which is tremendously exciting. As good an excuse as any, furthermore, to state the bleedin' obvious, teach grandmothers the fine art of egg-suckage and present this pre-event checklist:
1) Prepare For Hangovers. Now, technically, the SWF should be the last place you drink alcohol (apart from, say, a creche, a church or the London Underground). It's safe to assume, after all, that People Of Power are unimpressed by delegates who can barely string a sentence together, then hook an arm around them and pronounce them to be their best mate. In reality, of course, events like this are where everyone drinks the most - either through nerves, the fact that it's such a great social event or both. So prepare for the Worst Morning Scenario with Alka Seltzer and rehydration drinks - nothing will put a dent in your experience like effectively losing a day, courtesy of a hangover.
2) Smell Nice. Yes, that's right. Make sure you're deoderised, if indeed that's a word. You might be the finest new screenwriter of your generation, but if you reek like a carthorse by 2pm, then you'll find conversations are curtailed rather quickly.
3) Employ Business Cards. Pretty much essential, to my way of thinking. People Of Power will not thank you for attempting to present them with a hard-copy screenplay, no matter how fascinated they are by your concise 60-second pitch. So here's the goal: ask if they have a business card and give them yours. I've just had a new batch of cards made up for SWF (ordered online through GoodPrint - £26 for 200 cards, matt laminated), and am pleased with the results. Even if I did put 'Camden Town' after 'London' in my home address. Still, I guess even this sheds light on my character - to me, Camden Town might as well be London, given the amount of time I very happily spend here.
4) Absorb The Delegates List. The festival's website features a Delegates List. This is an alphabetised rundown of people who are attending, accessible to people who have bought tickets. Not only should you be on it, with a photograph and potted biog, but you should browse through every single attendee. Certain facts and faces will commit themselves to memory, and then when you're networking you'll be able to say, "Ah! You're the lady who's written a screenplay about goat buggery". Or "Ah! Your online photograph made your nose look far smaller than it is, sir". Or something diplomatic.
5) Smack Your Pitch Up. Maybe you've entered this year's Pitch In Time competition (a terrifying affair, which sees a number of entrants pitching to judges before a live festival audience), or maybe you haven't. Either way, there's another pitching competition at the event - a more subtle affair, which runs from start to finish. You get a chance to enter, whenever a Person Of Power utters four code words: "So what's it about?". If you have spec scripts which you're ready to show - or will be ready to show after a frenzied week-or-so of work, post-SWF - then know them off by heart. Work out a sentence-pitch for each of them - and preferably a sentence-pitch which doesn't sound like a mechanical and/or polished pitch. Be ready.
6) Know Your Speakers There are a wide variety of speakers at the festival. Know what they all do and have done. Make note of anything they've done which you've liked, or are prepared to convincingly lie about having liked. Tell them so, when you muster up the courage to have that two-minute chat with them. But for God's sake, wait until they've finished speaking in front of the festival crowd.
7) The Just-In-Case Memory Stick As I've said, you don't want to be ferrying weighty screenplays around, and no-one will want to take them off you, unless they're important enough to employ a PA to follow them around with a wheelbarrow. So just in case you happen to get chatting to a Person Of Power, they're bowled over by your pitch and demand to read it tomorrow when they get back to their office, take your specs along on a memory stick. Chances are, it won't be needed. But for three days, you'll feel like James Bond. Just think - all those pages of action and dialogue, in your pocket. But nobody knows. 8) Be Note-Perfect Take a notepad and a couple of pens. Two uses for these. Firstly, to take note of amazingly inspirational phrases uttered by the likes of guests Julian Fellowes or Mike Leigh. Secondly, to write down e-mail addresses when new contacts have run out of business cards.
9) Wear Clothes Fairly obvious, this one: while nudity might earn you plenty of attention at the SWF, you might also be sectioned. But it's true to say that screenwriters shouldn't feel the need to legitimise themselves by dressing up too formally. Sure, I might wear the odd suit jacket (a very odd suit jacket) at SWF, but there'll be tie or indeed business trousers. People Of Power don't expect us to dress well - they expect us to write brilliantly for them. Their mental image of us is pretty much "room full of scruffy gits in caps, throwing a baseball around." 10) Manage Your Expectations If any event is going to change your screenwriting life, it's the SWF. But don't expect it to happen in any kind of wham-bam way. Don't expect an eccentric millionaire to barge through the crowds to get to you, before handing over £500K to develop your career. Most importantly, don't be disappointed if you end the event without feeling like you've 'broken in'. Truth be told, SWF is more likely to enrich your life, through broadening your circle of contacts - whether they're script-peers or People Of Power (and sometimes, script-peers can be both, if they have contacts which you don't) - making you feel better about yourself and the preposterous craft you've chosen to adopt. You'll almost certainly have a blast, but the more relaxed you are, the better it will be. See you there. And if you haven't bought a ticket yet, do it now. Only 98 left...
It's certainly a question worth pondering. Be advised, however, that if your answer is "No", I will have to nail you to the nearest ceiling. Harsh? Sure. But listen, I don't make the rules.
First of all, take a little trip in my Blog TARDIS and examine my reaction to the 2007 Screenwriters' Festival at this brief post here, in which I quack about how fired-up it's made me; and then this much longer post here, in which I list 11 tremendous things about it. That'll be me nailing my colours to the mast. The event was a revelation, in which I not only learnt things about the industry on many levels, but made very good friendships indeed. I now view it as Christmas For Screenwriters.
But hey, fair enough, maybe you think that 2007 is, like, so 2007. "What's going on this year, Arnopp?" you shriek, gripping my shirt collar like a lunatic and frankly getting me quite worked up. "That's what I want to know. WHAT'S GOING ON?!"
Calm down, and I'll tell you. Quite literally for starters, there's an opening address by Barbara Machin, the lady who damn well created the sublime Waking The Dead. Barbara will be talking about the key importance of innovation in TV's current climate. A handy session titled How To Make A Living As A Writer will explain just that, while last year's attendees will be pleased to see the return of Scriptbites - a series of nicely informal gatherings which see speakers hosting round-table talks with delegates (that's you and I - sounds fancy, hmm? I like it, me) on different topics. Then there's a session about comic book writing, with guest speakers including the scribosphere's David Bishop. Screenwriter Ronald Harwood will be interviewed by psychiatrist Dr Raj Persaud, who has solemnly sworn to reduce the man to tears (note: this last part is not strictly true, or indeed at all true.) Another session will explore how to climb the career ladder as a writer. The in-vogue topic of adaptations will be covered when the BBC's Kate Harwood interviews novelist/screenwriter Deborah Moggach; the latest state-of-play as regards the writers' code of practice will be revealed; the anatomy of a script meeting will be mercilessly poked and prodded; we'll find out exactly what should be in a blazing script treatment; and Brit legend Mike Leigh will discuss his approach to writing and directing.
Jaysus. Sounds like quite the bundle of delights, no? Well, that's just the first day. Sweet Jesus, I'd reel off what's happening on the other two days, but I think my brain might fall out with the giddy, membrane-threatening glee of it all. Check out the full programme at the official website here.
I'm completely and utterly attending the Cheltenham Screenwriters' Festival. If you're not signed up yet, and money is stopping you, then as organising supremo David Pearson pointed out in this morning's Shooting People Screenwriters Network Bulletin, "There is support available for writers to attend from some screen agencies and others." If anyone knows exactly what these may be, then please list them in Comments. I thank you.
Footnote One: I'm off on holiday on Friday. Another one, you say? Yes, another one. But it's only a week. If the last one had been two weeks, you wouldn't have batted an eyelid. And besides, what's it got to do with you, hmmm? Oh, you're my bank manager? Ah. I see. Well look, it'll all be fine. Screenwriting work will pour in like liquid gold upon my return, and even if it doesn't... well, God knows. You can sell my arcade machine or something. But it'll all be grand. Honest. Good day to you.
Footnote Two: Dear God, that insaniac James Moran has just baked a remarkable Wisdom Pie, over at his gaff. The kind of stuff that he really should've saved for a book on the realities of being a screenwriter. Go cut yourself a slice. Just say no if he asks whether you'd like some "special custard" with it.
... this was the title of the recent Writers' Guild event, held at the Guild itself in Kings Cross, London. I should start by saying that this isn't really a full report as previously advertised - at least not in the sense of detailed notes being scribbled in a notepad. Sorry about that. I'm bad and must be punished with steel.
This event saw John Yorke, the BBC's Controller Of Drama Production, making a presentation, before letting an impressive panel give brief individual talks about themselves and their remits. The panelists were Hilary Salmon (Exec Producer, Drama Production), Claire Armspach (Producer, Waking The Dead), Ellen Taylor (Development Executive, Drama Production), Ben Evans (Exec Producer with special responsibility for BBC4), Ceri Meyrick (Producer, who also runs the BBC Drama Writers Academy).
I had never seen John Yorke before, and was very taken with his good humour, clarity of thought, obvious love of writers and the sheer amount of wisdom which he exuded. Couple this very positive impression of John with Ceri Meyrick's diligence and dedication to hunting new talent (she admitted to being annually terrified that she'll miss gifted writers, among the hundreds of Academy applicants - reading the better entries several times as a result) and I'm now 100% positive that the Academy is something worth going for - I so want to spend three months in a classroom with John Yorke.
All of the guests spoke well about their jobs and how they go about finding new writers. The overriding impression was this: these people are absolutely open to new writers. In fact, they crave that kind of new blood. Even an established, super-classy show like Waking The Dead, producer Claire reminded us, ushers in a real variety of writers each year, in terms of experience.
This all adds to my growing impression of what writers need to do, in order to "break in" to TV. Relatively speaking, the "breaking in" bit, in terms of opportunities and willingness on the part of producers, is easy enough. Commissioners want us and there are a dizzying array of opportunities out there. So, no - the hard part is the discipline to sit down and write ourselves a portfolio of brilliant, shiny scripts. Any talk of how it's "who you know, not what you know", in my view, is just an excuse for not having reached the right level of excellence, discipline and/or attitude.
My belief in the power of the writer's blog was cemented tonight when Ceri Meyrick knew who I was. There I was, internally working out oh-so-subtle ways to impress my achievements to date upon the good lady, and she'd already seen the blog. If that's not a fine reason to start a blog today, then what else can I tell you?
Tonight also saw an intriguing mention of a new Writers' Academy which is in the works: intended for the more advanced writer, it will aim to propel graduates towards shows such as Silent Witness. Which sounds tremendous. And this was a truly tremendous evening. Why, I might even join the Guild!
If you live in or around Brighton and have an interest in animation, you might well fancy a two-day animation workshop which my good friend Corin Hardy is hosting this Saturday and Sunday in Chiddingly.
Join Corin Hardy (the Director of award winning animated short 'Butterfly' and music videos for Keane, Guillemots, McFly and The Horrors) for a look into his animated world, featuring models, props, designs & storyboards from the his creations. Then make your own animated mini-epic over this special two day animation workshop.
It's open to anyone over 11, and Corin will be mostly concentrating on shadow-puppetry. More details at this webpage right here.
Had a nice li'l surprise the other day. On June 29, I attended the BECTU Freelancers' Fair. Among the many intriguing stalls was that of Production Base, the insider's network for film, television and commercial production. I entered a competition to win a free year's subscription, and ended up winning. Hooray for me. So I've just signed up: looks like pretty useful stuff.
The Power Of Three process on my Red Planet Prize script is nearing its end now, in the third round. Took a bit of a bashing from one of my PO3 folks this morning, and led them to think I was fine about it. When in fact I'm writing this from their garden shed, where I'm loading up on guns. In all seriousness, though, I do seem to be pretty good with criticism. It's certainly not because I disregard it; not in the slightest. Guess I just see it as a firmly professional thing, as opposed to anything vaguely personal. I'm also realistic about how I'm still absorbing the craft, and how fiercely I want to learn more. One thing's for sure: you don't learn much from people in rose-tinted spectacles. Besides, they're out of fashion.
Hello you. Now, I never previously thought of this blog as the kind of place where you'll read screenwriting-centric advice. Journalistic advice I can give, after 19 years of doing it. Screenwriting? Relatively-speaking, it's a new world to me. Done it for over a decade, but only 100% seriously since January 2006.
Clearly, though, I was wrong about not giving screenwriterly advice. Because I can give it when I fuck up. And after last night's well-organised Stellar Network's Pitch Up event I have advice to give. Oh yes. Believe.
I ended up in a circle of 15 people, presided over by Wall To Wall's chief executive Alex Graham. There were more people than perhaps anticipated, so pitches were assigned a two-minute limit. Which threw me into mental tailspin, as my pitch was five minutes long. Far too long for this kind of event. Rather than describe the cold-sweat hell of my pitch in detail, I'll give you the general idea via a series of 'do not's...
DO NOT Bring a mood board to this kind of event. It's fine for professional pitches, but at a public pitch-fest it makes you look mad. I quickly realised I was the only person with a board in the entire room of 80-or-so attendees, and was put in mind of seeing a woman carrying a guitar at the Pitchfest event of LA's Screenwriting Expo last year. How I chuckled at her, knowing that I'd never do anything so eccentric. Ahem. It was a good board, but it didn't belong here.
DO NOT Have a five-minute pitch ready for this kind of event.
DO NOT Edit the wrong things out of your five-minute pitch, in order to cut it down to two minutes. I threw the baby out with the bathwater, losing much of The Big Proposition and ending up with bare bones plot. Which leads me on to...
DO NOT Fall into the classic "and then this happens, and then this happens..." trap. As Alex sagely noted during our session, "The trick of pitching is to get ME saying, 'So then what happens?'." What he ideally wants to hear in a pitch is The Big Idea, which he 'gets' and can see the big picture. Then, once he's hooked, he wants you ready to take him on the journey of the actual story.
DO NOT Forget to mention a key character in your pitch. Then realise, and slip them into the pitch, too late. The word "Argh!" springs nimbly to mind here. Jesus.
Despite the lousy nature of my pitch, I did earn a round of applause - partly, I suspect, because I was the first to pitch and partly through collective relief that it was over. Alex didn't seem to hate the idea at all, but the pitch wasn't clear enough for him and he obviously wasn't keen on its story-heavy content. He wasn't sure if my 30-minute TV drama was in fact a TV drama, as it seemed too "dark and edgy". He was positive, though, and gave me some good feedback, based on my two minutes of babble. And he later agreed to read the script. So that's good stuff, given that I'm far more confident about writing than talking.
It was a great session, with only one irritation. Three members of the group, who were pitching together, were clearly only interested in their own two minutes. During almost everybody else's pitches, they yapped, chuckled and whispered amongst themselves. Call me harsh, but their apparent belief that there was nothing to learn from either other people's pitches or even Alex's feedback to those pitches, possibly accounted for their own pitch being pretty much incomprehensible.
Anyway, pitch-bitching aside: Andy Pillock was in my group - and he won! Fantastic stuff. Mr Pillock flew the flag for the Scribosphere, and if he tries telling you at over his place that Alex chose him out of sympathy for being the 14th person to pitch and therefore having less time, dismiss him like the modest charlatan that he is.
It was a fine event for networking, too. There was a fair assembly of writers and film-makers in the bar afterwards, including Piers and Christine. I made a couple of good new writing pals (hello Adam, hello Kulvinder) and enjoyed debating Piers over whether the words 'actor' and 'actress' really should be regulated to 'actor'. When the bar shut, he and I hit another booze-house for some whisky action, talking about being a writer and the neverending process of self-improvement and learning. A great night.
Earlier that day, too, I was driven to Pinewood Studios to interview the Dragons of TV's popular Dragons' Den show. I interviewed them in the Den studio, where they sat in a row, just like they are on the programme, with large piles of cash on side tables. While I can now see how intimidating it must be for the show's entrepreneurs, I'm also pleased to report that the Dragons are both witty and amusing.
Good day to you.
PS Preparing a pitch can, by itself, help the development of your script (which, in this case, is the one I'll be delivering to the Red Planet Prize competition). While putting the pitch together, I realised there was one supposedly pivotal scene which just seemed wishy-washy and blah when you attempted to verbally describe it. So that scene has now become much stronger as a result. Good day to you again.
Here's a funny thing. This morning, I decided to register for Stella Network's Pitching Workshop, in London tomorrow. Talking publicly and pitching don't rank among my favourite things (I'm a writer, not a talker, goddamit!), so it's important to face up to these vague dreads and brush up on them.
About half an hour later, while sitting in heat magazine where I'm currently temping, I was commissioned with the task of interviewing tycoon Peter Jones and his fellow Dragons from the popular BBC show Dragon's Den. And it's tomorrow afternoon. So I'll be able to quiz these titans of business for pitching tips, mere hours before heading over to the Stellar Network event. Mad, yes? Yes.
Anyone else going? You still heading up here for it, Mr Pillock? And Christ Almighty, would someone gather some handy links on pitching? I actually managed to enjoy the pitch-thang at LA's Screenwriting Expo last October, but that was a while ago and I'm all rusty...
The LA-based Screenwriting Expo's screenwriting comp has a July 1 final deadline for submissions. I just entered a screenplay. If you have one which is screaming out to be judged, and happen to have 45 dollars lying around the house, I suggest you do the same. Quick!
The Freelances' Fair was enjoyable today - mainly in terms of getting to meet reps from various companies, most of whom I never knew existed. Organisations like ProductionBase and The Knowledge, for instance. I'm sure most people are well aware of them already, but I'm still relatively new to this, soaking up The Info, as Dr Evil might say... ProductionBase took my prize for best freebie, in the shape of a mug. I like free stuff. And I like mugs. What's not to like?
The Fair's attendance was possibly compromised a tad by the narrowly-averted car-bombing in the early hours of this morning. BECTU reps weren't half-keen to sign up new members: two different BECTU reps swooped and tried to get me to join the union - and that was without me going near their actual table. I didn't sign-up in the end, despite an offered 25% discount - just couldn't see enough benefits, after looking through their leaflets.
I attended two seminars. One about surviving the freelance jungle was more useful for those about to plunge into freelance waters, but there was still the odd bit of new info for me. For instance, the fact that a freelancer under contract is eligible for holidays/holiday pay. Guess I never knew this before because I'm rarely under contract...
The other seminar was entitled Conjuring The Commission. A fairly typical commissioning-editors-type-affair, it saw the guests giving the usual advice of teaming up with credible production companies, knowing your target channels back-to-front and so on. As the discussion focused more on documentaries and formatted programming, it was less relevant to me, but remained interesting. Kate Vogel, the Channel 4 commissioning editor behind the 3 Minute Wonder shorts and the New Shoots documentary disability series, was particularly likeable. One day soon, I'll hopefully get around to writing up some stuff people actually said - as I need to do for at least two or three previous events. Mind you, with the Screenwriter's Festival due next week, I doubt this'll happen for a while...
Feeling pretty good today. Yesterday, I wrote and submitted my entry for the Royal Tapes competition (deadline midday today: hurry hurry hurry!). And this very morn, I've completed the rough first-draft of a three-minute horror short which has been rattling around my head for most of this week.
Here's one of the more exciting things which has happened of late: a director-friend of mine wants to film a short, this Summer. He has a self-produced feature behind him, plus a few shorts, and is set to film a new movie this year, adapted from a novel. He initially wanted to shoot this short for the hell of it, but recently realised that it would be nice if it somehow complemented his upcoming full-lengther (and I just know that Lucy will be going, 'Ooh! Titter ye not!' at the expression 'full-lengther'). Now fortunately - and entirely coincidentally - the short film which I've banged out (calm down, calm down) this morning does indeed have a similar theme. So I've sent him this first draft, to give him the idea. Let's see if it appeals. If not, perhaps he and I can hammer an entirely new notion out between us. Either way, it'll be great to get that first screen credit.
I'm slowly, oh-so-slowly, getting myself around to heading down to the BECTU Freelances Fair. If you're reading this and also going, then do sidle up and say hello, hi, word-up or whichever greeting suits. Good day to you.
Just signed up for a potentially interesting free event: the Freelances' Fair at BECTU (Broadcasting Entertainment Cinematograph and Theatre Union) on June 29. Thanks to the ever-informative Lianne for what American folk might call the head's up.
I've got a short story included in a hardback compilation this October. Published by Big Finish, it's entitled Bernice Summerfield: The Missing Adventures and edited by the wonderful Rebecca Levene. For anyone unaware of the central character, she's a kind of female Indiana Jones in a SF world and was created by Paul Cornell. My story's called Prime Five, and will sit very proudly alongside contributions from such noted authors as former Doctor Who script editor Andrew Cartmel, former Who writer Ben Aaronovitch, Eddie Robson and Peter Darvill-Evans. Big Finish have recently issued the full list of authors and story titles which you can see here.
Now then, you... yes, you there, with the electronic quill. Listen up. Last February, I went to a tremendous screenwriting event in Darlington called The Story Engine. A smoothly-run conference with clear, demonstrable passion for the subject matter. You can read my blog-summary of it here and then a specific account of Robin Hood writer Lisa Holdsworth's pitch-doc masterclass here.
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