Showing posts with label sketch writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sketch writing. Show all posts

Splendid: The Official Trailer

It's now online. See it here and if you like it, tell other people about it. Splendid!

One Way To Break Into Radio Comedy

Hot on the heels of my last post about having a sketch broadcast on this week's episode of Laurence & Gus: Hearts & Minds, I've had more good news confirmed. I'm going to be on the commissioned writing team for the next series of Radio 4's comedy sketch-show Recorded For Training Purposes. Very excited about this, as it's a fine show, broadly employing the themes of modern technology and communication.

If you've been reading this blog since the beginning of last year, you may vaguely remember the path that's led me here. But maybe you've only just landed, having typed "writing for comedy sketch shows" or "oiled-up lesbians" into the Google machine. And besides, why should you have to recall stuff? You're my guest here, so sit back with a cup of tea and a macaroon and I'll do the legwork. Here's a recap, for those who are interested in writing for radio comedy, probably with some new details if I remember them:

DECEMBER 2008: Recorded For Training Purposes issues an open call for sketches, asking for a maximum of three. I send in two and hear good things back from producer Ed Morrish, who invites me to a "non-com" writers meeting, attended by 15 writers out of the original 1500 applicants. "Non-com" refers to non-commissioned writers, ie writers who are not guaranteed any airtime unless they produce sketches which make people's jawbones fall off with mad laughter.

LATER IN DECEMBER: The meeting happens, in which Ed and RFTP's three script editors dispense fine sketch-writing advice.

JANUARY 5, 2009: One of the two sketches I originally sent Ed, System Of The Damned, is performed and recorded at the BBC Radio Theatre. I blog about this here, as well as tardily listing some of the aforementioned sketch-writing advice.

JANUARY 22: The episode of RFTP featuring System Of The Damned goes out on Radio 4. Champagne corks strike ceilings, chez Arnopp.

MARCH 9: It becomes pleasingly clear that there is actually a system in place in the BBC Comedy department, regarding writers. And no, not the big bad system that some folks like to imagine is conspiring to keep them out, but a system in which producers develop writers. Today, I attend a BBC radio sketchwriting workshop and blog about it here. It ends with a live comedy evening at The Albany pub, where all of the workshop attendees see sketches they've written during the day performed onstage. Nerve-wracking - especially as David Mitchell's in the audience - but great fun and vital experience. I specifically blog about that evening session here.

MARCH 13: Further evidence of a system being in place, as Ed recommends me to Colin Anderson, producer of Laurence & Gus: Hearts & Minds. I'm among the writers called in for a meeting with Colin and cast, then sent away to fashion our most side-splitting treasures. The next couple of months are all about delivering the best stuff you have within your funny-bones, then attending try-out nights and recording sessions to see if you've got anything into the show. Luckily, I really like the show, so am guaranteed a good, ticklesome time whether I have material in or not. I write about this whole process here.

AUGUST 4: Success! A sketch in tonight's episode of Laurence & Gus. By this point, I also know I'm going to be on the RFTP writing team, but can't yet make that public. Lots of internal hoorays going on.

So what does it mean to be on the writing team of a radio comedy show? Basically, it means I'm commissioned to write a minimum amount of air time, attend meetings and work more directly with Ed and the script editors. Beyond that, who knows? I'll find out next month when the meetings kick off.

Hopefully, though, this post offers hope that there absolutely is a way in, and people who care about, and have a vested interest in, developing scribblers. Like most mediums, radio is hungry for the right writers. So make sure you're the right writer in terms of skill and attitude. Keep your eyes peeled in handy places like the Writersroom's Opportunities page, scanning for open calls which will allow you to prove yourself.

For a splendid piece on the Radio 4 Commissioning Process, enjoy a good soak in Michelle Lipton's torrent of insight and advice here.
And dear lord, she's just posted a new fountain of truth, in the shape of a piece about the practicalities of writing for radio, here.

A Thoroughly Splendid Update

Cor blimey, love-a-duck, what a busy time it's been, and continues to be. Life is tremendous, right now. Here's what I've been doing with myself, on a professional level:

SPLENDID!
As you may recall, with your big old brain, there exists a pilot for the Splendid sketch-show, which we screened a few weeks back. Part of the reason we held that screening, was to see how we could strengthen that pilot. As Splendid (with both a big 'S' and a small one) director Dan Turner fully explains on his blog here, we then decided that our preposterous pilot needed a final sprinkle of quick, visual gags, to round it off nicely.

With that in mind, a full day of shooting happened last Friday. While I was unable to attend any of the original, glorious eight-day shoot for the pilot, I was able to go along for the ride on Friday, and help out wherever possible. It was a bruising schedule, to be sure, but so full of fun, stretched out between a greyhound stadium in Essex and Elstree Studios. God, we shot some ridiculous things that day - including a sketch which is arguably the silliest thing we've yet done. It really was a joy to be able to walk up to a monitor, inspect the frame and announce, "That is utterly fucking preposterous"... and for that to be a compliment. What a day. Another highlight was sitting in the back of a car with Splendid man Richard Glover, high on Opal Fruits (known by no-one as Starbursts) and shrieking at each other as the day wore on and hysteria took over.

RADIO!
I'm firing party streamers all over the shop, making it notably harder to tell you about developments in Radioville. I have a sketch on prime-time Radio 4 this very evening, goddammit. At 6.30pm, it's episode four of the excellent comedy series Laurence & Gus: Hearts & Minds. I spent a number of weeks, earlier in the year, bombarding the show with sketches because I love the duo's idiosyncratic style. I was determined to make something stick, and finally, World's Most Placid Man was performed and recorded. Cue cake and bunting.

RED PLANET!
After the excitement of being a finalist in the Red Planet Prize competition and the ensuing workshop with Tony Jordan, I'm now well into the hard graft of developing ideas for new TV malarkey. A fun process, to be sure.

TEMPTATION!
Screeching Satan on a cock-shaped pogostick! Tempting Fates, the online drama series which I've co-written and storylined, is now in its second week of filming. It's being made by the wonderful people at Eye Film & TV, and will be visible and audible via the WWW later in the year. I'm loving what I've seen of the cast, and can't wait to see the results. Essentially a black comedy, Tempting Fates is about three female Fates, who sashay down to Earth in order to murder various human targets. My kinda concept.

JOURNALISM!
The first part of my Doctor Who Magazine interview with Tom Baker seems to have gone down well, which is a relief. The second part will be in the next issue, out August 20. Whereas Part One focused primarily on Tom's memories of Doctor Who, Part Two is much more about him as a person. This issue will also feature my studio report from recording sessions for the new BBC Audio drama Hornets' Nest, which sees Tom reprising his role as the Fourth Doctor. Brilliant. Lately, I've also interviewed Ozzy Obsourne and Spooks' Richard Armitage. Tremendous distractions from open Final Draft files, all.

In case you were wondering, the above photograph of Ozzy and I happened seconds after I asked him to tell me the bat-eating story, one more time.

Kevin Bishop Talks Sketch-Writing

A few weeks back, I visited Channel 4 to interview Kevin Bishop for heat magazine. The occasion? The second series of his ticklesome sketch-fest The Kevin Bishop Show, which will soon hit our televisual screens. Perhaps contrary to the impression you might have formed of the man, thanks to the often vicious nature of his show, or his riotously boozy behaviour at last year's British Comedy Awards, he came across as a perfectly likeable guy. Loud, confident and a right old laugh. Furthermore, the clips I saw of the new run - with new characters including a hilarious 'Hugh Laurie' as Doctor House, constantly slipping out of his American accent into 'What-ho!' English - were very funny indeed.

The heat interview is in the latest issue of the magazine, out right now. What follows, though, are some exclusive excerpts from our chat, which touched upon the business and the mechanics of comedy, and sketch-writing in particular. Enjoy.

Your show’s even faster than The Fast Show, isn’t it?
“We actually delivered more sketches this year, and had a fantastic writing period before filming. We write the whole show in around six or seven weeks. It’s mental. Literally no sleep!”

Are your sketches literally not allowed to last for more than one minute?
“It’s not the rule – I think we might have one or two which are two minutes long. But we have to be brutally honest with each other – when performers have too much control over their own vehicles, they can be a little bit self-indulgent and drag their performacnes out. If you watch a sketch show, you might think, ‘Wow, that’s a really good performance from that actor and it’s really funny… but it goes on for three minutes’. Then they tell that same joke six times in a series. It goes from something which was brilliant, to slightly irritating and a bit boring. So we didn’t want to get into that. If it was left to me, like most actors I’d probably go, ‘Fucking hell! This is gold! I’m really good in this! Let’s make it four minutes long’. That’s why you need a good producer to sit there and go, ‘It’s finished. Move on’. That’s why I had very little to do with the edit, because we’d probably argue.”

Is comedy a riskier business to try your luck at, than drama?
“Much riskier, in this country - because people actually get offended if you don’t make them laugh! You can get killed for that. I was talking to Eddie Izzard the other day, who asked me why I don’t do stand-up. And it’s because I couldn’t bear someone telling me to fuck off while I was onstage. I’ll do theatre, where people will applaud while turning to their partner and murmuring, ‘That was shit’, but they won’t shout, ‘Fuck off – you’re shit!’. That’ll never happen to you in theatre… hopefully! Stand-ups are so tough. They’re robust. I’m quite envious of a lot of stand-ups and their bravery. But to be a good stand-up, you need to go out there and bare your soul. As an actor, I’m not comfortable with that. The minute you tell people who you are, the parameters of what you can achieve become narrowed. If they know who you are, the game’s up.”

What makes a perfect sketch? Are there any absolutes?
“Well, the good thing about sketch stuff, is that it can be anything. I remember having this argument with a TV executive. We’d written some sketches that we thought were great, and he said, ‘It doesn’t fit the rest of the show’. And my argument was: how can a sketch not fit in a sketch show? It doesn’t matter what it is: a sketch can be anything. That’s why we did The Kevin Bishop Show. I did a sketch show, years ago, called Spoons, which was a Channel 4 show about relationships. You do a series and suddenly go, ‘Where are we gonna take the next one? All the sketches have got to be about relationships’. So with our show, we chose television – and there are areas of television that we haven’t even touched. National Geographic, Babestation, MTV… we could go into some areas. The ideal sketch can be anything that’s funny… but quick. I do think that. If you watch old Peter Cook and Dudley Moore sketches, or the Dead Parrot sketch in Monty Python… the parrot sketch is an epic. It goes for, like, 10 minutes. It’s still funny and they pull it off – but nowadays, I think it has to be ‘Idea, joke, it’s funny, okay, now move on’. That’s it.”

Does a sketch have to be about one thing?

“Yeah. With sketch shows, you need to keep people’s short attention span. Increasingly, especially younger audiences, are becoming less focused. The Fast Show had long sketches involving Ted and Ralph, which would go on and on, but there was something so great about it. Those characters were so complex that they drew you in. It was like watching a film, which is fine. But in our show, we’ve got to shoot 10 sketches in a day. You have to get in there, hit the note and get out.”

Is ending a sketch the hardest part?
“Yeah, you’ve got to have a good ‘out’, or there’s absolutely no point in doing a sketch. Every now and again, one of those little sketches will pop up, and you go, ‘Where’s the out on this fucking sketch? It’s rubbish’. You’ve got to have some sort of pay-off at the end, otherwise it’s irritating when this thing you’ve just watched for two minutes just… ends, and that’s it. The characer stuff isn’t so bad, because it’s the character that’s funny throughout. Whereas if you’re telling a joke throughout and you don’t have a punchline, it’s totally pointless.”

Your show is an interesting mix of the topical and the random. A deliberate policy?
“Topicality’s not my department, see - that’s all down to Lee [Hupfield, producer and co-writer]. I’ll happily come up with characters all the time. I’ll sit in a room with writers and do some impressions of people I know, and we’ll come up with a character. Whereas Lee will want to do a sketch on Christian Bale, after the incident in the hotel with his mum and his sister. Like, if we were filming this now [a week after Michael Jackson’s death], we’d be doing a Michael Jackson sketch today. That’s the way that Lee works – it has to be of the minute, right now. It’s a good and bad thing – there isn’t any comedy quite like this, but the bad thing is that you might watch in three years’ time and go, ‘Jesus!’. It dates very, very quickly, which we’re aware of.”

Perhaps unusually for a sketch-show performer, you enjoy treading theatrical boards. How’d you enjoy being in Fat Pig, before Christmas?

“It was absolutely brilliant, like a gift. I’d just finished my show and Star Stories, then got married and been on my honeymoon. It was great to be offered the play, and I took Kris Marshall’s role. Such a funny play. [Playwright] Neil LaBute has become a good friend now. I love doing theatre. That’s where I started years ago, then you get swept away doing stuff. In England, people are very keen to pigeon-hole you, so that they can say ‘He does that’. But I’ve always enjoyed playing a whole range of different characters...”

Is there such a thing as going too far with humour?
“I think you can go too far, when something ceases to be funny. All the time it’s funny, right or wrong, it’s still serving a purpose. We’re not out to offend, but… when you go and see a stand-up comic, there’s nothing less funny than knowing what they’re going to say. Laughter tends to happen when an audience are slightly nervous, in anticipation of what you’re gonna say. But there have been a couple of things we’ve done this year, where we’ve looked at each other and asked if it was too much. Then we just decide to let Channel 4 decide!”

Have Channel 4 vetoed much, then?

“I can only speak about last year, because they actually won’t me about this year, in case I kick off! So I might be watching this series, going, ‘Whatever happened to that sketch?’ and someone will tell me, ‘Yeah, we binned it’. And often, those are my favourite sketches! Last series, Fred West Side Story was one of my favourite sketches I’ve ever done, and yet it received hundreds of complaints...”

The Kevin Bishop Show returns to Channel 4 on Friday, July 31.

Happy Birthday To Me & The Radio Hit-Rate

A certain number of years ago, on this very day, I was inflicted upon the Earth. Yes, yes, thank you very much, you're all too kind (oh, and it's fellow blogger Rob Stickler's birthday too, except he isn't shouting about it like me, demanding attention and gold ingots). The picture to the left of these here words, was created by my friend Ray Zell and craftily incorporated into the design of a shop-bought Doctor Who/TARDIS card. He's a clever one, that Zell.

Tonight, I'm going to a try-out/read-through session for the next run of Radio 4's fine sketch-show Laurence & Gus: Hearts & Minds. No idea if any of my material will be road-tested during this event, but I know it'll be a hoot, regardless. Obviously, having stuff performed would be just peachy, but we'll see. Having made a little headway into the world of radio-sketchwriting since December, I've come to realise just how many sketches you need to run up a flagpole before the producer and/or talent salutes it. Which is only natural and right.

There are, after all, various reasons why things might not make it in. Firstly, of course, it could be rubbish. Let's not discount that possibility. Or it could be good, but just not right for the show, tonally - getting the tone right takes a while. Or they might already have a sketch about a clockwork walrus which masturbates every day at 4.22pm. Or it could be 80 or 90 per cent there, but there's simply no time to conduct a rewrite, or even get you to conduct one. Radio moves surprisingly fast, and producers work blisteringly hard - to the extent that, unless you attend the recordings, you might not know your material has been accepted and performed until listening to the broadcast. It's certainly not the done thing to pester them, asking for updates and reasons why your stuff didn't make the cut. I like that speed, though, including the rush of a producer sending an e-mail asking for sketches by a certain deadline, usually in a few days' time. Time to get that thinking cap on and make with the funny.

Back in December, when I attended a writers' meeting for Recorded For Training Purposes, it was sobering to hear the three script editors of that show say that their own hit-rate for getting sketches into RFTP was one in six. Jesus! That shows how tough it is - and why, as the BBC's comedy guru Micheal Jacobs freely admits, radio sketchwriting (or, I'd imagine, even TV sketchwriting) ain't ever going to pay the lion's share of your mortgage. Better, I'd say, to think of it as a lovely handful of hundreds 'n' thousands on top of whatever your preferred cake happens to be. Mine's drama, which will remain my priority - especially now with Red Planet Pictures developments presenting such opportunities. But there's no doubt that radio has presented lots of fun so far, along with a challenge to relish -and over in the world of TV sketchwriting, the Splendid project becomes more incredibly exciting by the day.

I submitted five or six sketches to Recorded For Training Purposes and got one into a broadcast episode. Out of 12 sketches I submitted to Laurence & Gus, one has been performed and recorded (which isn't the same as actually making the show, as they record six hours of material for a three-hour series!). I've submitted a further six to them, plus another dozen to another radio sketch show, and a couple to a recent, sudden opportunity, so we'll see how those pan out.

It was a joy, a few weeks back, to see Laurence Howarth and Gus Brown, along with voice-god collaborator Duncan Wisby, performing that sketch of mine live at the BBC Radio Theatre. I'd become nigh-on obsessed with getting something into that show, mainly because the duo are just so darn funny and their standards are high, with a really clever, cerebral approach, as well as some utterly abstract silliness. Typically, I'd written the chosen sketch merely two days before, in a last-minute mad rush to make a deadline. Compared to other material which I'd painstakingly honed, peer-feedbacked and all the rest of it, it was raw. Once again, you just never know what reaction comedy is going to provoke. To a large extent, it's easier to cite specific reasons why drama doesn't work, but comedy feels more nebulous and far more dependent on the gut reaction.

As I think I wrote in a previous post, though, watching one of your own sketches being performed in front of an audience is a simultaneously triumphant and terrifying affair. I think I finally have a suitable simile for hot it feels. Yes: it's like being in a space suit which is slowly being deprived of oxygen. Every time the audience laughs, oxygen gets pumped into the suit. If they don't, oxygen continues to vanish and you internally start flapping about like a fish out of water. As it was, my sketch went down okay, with some good hoots. As ever, though, there's stuff you expect to get big laughs that doesn't, and stuff you didn't even realise was funny that elicits a positive response - often down to the performers approaching it in a certain way.

Wish me luck for tonight, in a room which holds a maximum of 50 people. With beer. Oh yes, there will and must be beer.

Splendid Chaps

Spare a thought, tomorrow, for director Dan Turner and his trusty cast and crew, who will be launching into eight straight days of shooting our ludicrous TV sketch-show Splendid. Yep, even Sunday. This is literal madness. Sixteen sketches in eight days - several of which I'm proud to say are mine. (The sketches, not the days.)

Click here to see Dan's pre-shoot ruminations. And click here to see those of production guru John 'Champagne Caution' Harrison.

Previously on Splendid:

A Splendid Sketch Is Born

Well, shoe me in the nuts, then set me ablaze - it's not every day you get to host, on your own blog, something you've written. But here, for your naked, steaming eyes, is a brand new Splendid sketch, written by me and directed by Dan Turner. Showcasing all six of this up-and-coming affair's gorgeous performers (click here for my recent guide to who they are), I think it's turned out, aptly enough, splendidly. I'm particularly proud of the dialogue. Yes.

Watch it (click here to see it on the actual Funny Or Die site) then cast your online vote: is it Funny, or is it Die?

Then feel free to e-mail it around, embed it into Facebook, have it printed on a commemorative toby jug and/or sent to Mars on a rocket ship of your own design.

Yoga - watch more funny videos

Sketch Show: The Aftermath

Following on from my last post, I'm now back from the Albany pub, where a sketch of mine was performed among numerous others, for a small-but-appreciate audience...

... including David Mitchell. Yes, Peep Show's David Mitchell. Sweet Jesus.

Don't know if anyone needed medical attention after my sketch, exactly, but there was definite laughter. Happy with that, given that (a) it was created in around two hours; (b) it enjoyed a mere two drafts; and (c) it was a bit weird, like a lot of my sketches. And David Mitchell chuckled. There was no mistaking it - his face contorted, betraying the fact that amusement had registered in his brain. Phew.

It was nice that our sketch showcase was part of a multi-faceted comedy evening, compered by the excellent Justin Edwards and also featuring a showcase from female sketch-duo Two Left Hands.

Mad props and kudos to Recorded For Training Purposes producer Ed Morrish, who spearheaded the workshop today, and my mentors Miles Jupp and Danielle Ward (who also formed half of the sketch-performance team, showing remarkable multi-tasking skills and are poorly served by my rubbish photo above, which looks like they're about to die of radiation sickness), plus everyone else who put it together. And of course the other writers, who included Dubliner/blogger Gerry Hayes (read his report on the day here) and Splendid's own Sarah Morgan.

Schemes like this are another reminder that we writers are categorically not facing an impenetrable wall. Unless, of course, it's of our own design.

All The News, As It Happens

Blimey, how's this for a bit of guerrilla reporting? I'm in a central London pub, abusing their wi-fi. All day, I've been at a BBC radio sketchwriting workshop, as a result of having contributed material to Radio 4's Recorded For Training Purposes, early this year. Great to see that the BBC's radio comedy department genuinely seem committed to involving and recognising new writers. From 8pm onwards, a sketch which I've created today will be performed live as part of a show at The Albany pub on Great Portland Street. Mad, yes?

It's been a fun day. We (me and roughly 17 others) got there at 11am, and were given 15 minutes to think of a couple of sketch ideas. We pitched both of these to assigned mentors, who then suggested which one to develop, without being overly prescriptive. Then we scuttled away and wrote the first draft of the sketch on our laptops.

First drafts achieved, we were rewarded with a group talk from Gareth Edwards, Head Of Radio Comedy. He played us a few of his favourite Mitchell & Webb sketches, before telling us why he especially liked each, before chatting about sketches in a more general fashion. One of his big pointers, when it came to sketches, was to establish a situation, then shift the ground under the audience's feet. In an amusing fashion, obviously. He also advised: "Don't just write what you think a show wants, if you don't find it funny", and stressed the benefits of radio, in that the writer is in complete control of what information they reveal, and when.

After lunch, we individually reconvened with our mentors, who by this time had read our first drafts, and offered us some feedback. My mentor, Miles, had some really clear-headed, sensible suggestions, as you'd expect. It meant a slightly bigger rewrite than I immediately expected, but I got the job done, goddamit.

After that, we were visited by the supernaturally calm Micheal Jacob, Head Of BBC Comedy College, who seemed happy to chat in a laidback fashion and answer all manner of questions. The general picture of BBC radio comedy was of a pretty open camp, in which you simply have to find a producer (there are nine or ten in the radio comedy department, which provides most of the comedy shows aired on Radio 4 and BBC Radio 7) who likes - or, ideally, loves your work. You then need to prove to them that this wasn't just a one-off stroke of genius, and that you're reliable. He stressed selling yourself all the time, as producers are unlikely to have too much time recommending your work to other producers... although referrals do happen. He was also honest enough to admit that radio-writing is unlikely to "ever really be a living" in itself.

The BBC Comedy College was launched last year, and Micheal wants to do another, using what he learnt from the first - and inevitably given the economic landscape, a lower budget. In terms of script dislikes, he said, "The worst scripts I read are by people who set out to write a sitcom. Everything's cardboard, there's no character depth and people don't talk like real people. Write about what you care about, and keep it real in terms of emotion." On that note, he recommended a book about character psychology: Games People Play, by Dr Eric Berne.

Right. Time to head over to the Albany. Is my sketch funny enough? Only one way to find out. And clearly, it's the hard way.

Broadcast!

My sketch System Of The Damned was just aired on Radio 4's Recorded For Training Purposes (the one involving hospital appointments and geese). You may recall I recently attended the recording session, but it's great to hear it actually being funneled through radio waves, to the nation, representing my first BBC credit. That's me all proud, then. Here's the iPlayer link to the episode if you fancy some communication-centric sketchery-pokery. UPDATE: and here's the online list of credits.

2008: The Words, The Pictures, The Tomfoolery

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 bagged my first script-editor credit, on Dan Turner's short Big Mistake. The cast & crew screening was another year highlight.

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 had my first piece of official Doctor Who fiction published, in Big Finish's hardback collection Doctor Who Short Trips: Christmas Around The World. Seriously thrilling.

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:

James Moran's Fifth Blogday Revelations, in which he shares a mountain of insight which he really should have saved for an e-book in, like, 2016.

James Moran's Two Weeks In The Life. A real careful-what-you-wish-for post - this is what it's going to be like, folks.

Phill Barron's Lift/Career Metaphor, which is very good to bear in mind. See Also: the Screenwriter As Amoeba section of Adrian Mead's excellent Making It As A Screenwriter e-book.

Lucy Vee's handy Research Or Die series.

Danny Stack's 10-Step Screenwriting Guide - a one-stop shop for Stackly wisdom.

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.

Sketch Armageddon

We had another Splendid sketch show meeting last night. Cor blimey, it was a massacre. People left the Century club with arms and/or legs missing, with their sketches rammed down their throats.

As I mentioned the other day, our process involves everyone reading everyone else's printed sketch scripts, then offering feedback and voting Yes or No in a X Factor fashion. Some scripts are earmarked for another draft, however, so it's not all either Failure or Glorious Victory.

We were all quite brutal with each other, but you have to be, to keep the quality consistent. It's also indicative, I think, that we're becoming more comfortable as a group. You only hurt the ones you love.

Splendid. Good day to you.