haters gonna hate – even the shit i be proud of, yeah?


November 2012

Horrorshow – the scars

Forty-seven and-a-half thousand words down. It’s wednesday night and I’m taking a well-deserved breather.
I’m becoming horribly addicted to series one of homelands – although it seems to be sagging a wee bit in the second haf of the series. Ever since carrie mentioned theolonius, soft jazz has followed her around. Plus, she felt it necessary to point out miles davis to brody when he visited her at home.
Now it’s thursday night. I’m grinding towards the end of a shift at work and champing at the bit to squeeze out those last twenty-six hundred horrorshow slovos.
This last month has been a hell of a ride – working, training, the first new (shit)bond movie since I lived in liverpool.


January – pilot

Monday afternoon: These are going up around forty-eight hours after they’re written. At the time of writing, I have forty-three-and-a-half thousand words down, leaving me six-and-a-half k to grind out by friday. I think I can manage.
I only have chapter one to write now, so I’m folding in a lot of cut-ins, one or two of which are actually pretty good.
I’ll take next month to work on “1919 (outside)” and get it ready for february. Come january, I’ll start revising either this or august’s ‘dystopian’ piece..
This month’s been pretty high-stress. Balancing work, on-the-job training (oo-er, missus!) and trying to squeeze out a novel has been difficult – although not impossible.
If anything, I’m already looking forward to june and next year’s NaNoCamp.

The distance – cake

That’s me cracked forty thousand words. I wrung out five thousand yesterday, which brought my total up to thirty-eight-and-a-half thousand and this morning, I’ve done two-and-a-half thousand.
I’m closing in on the magic fifty-k. After I finished last night, I chilaxed, watched russ meyer’s ‘vixen’ (for the editing, obviously) before discovering ‘homeland’, which number two son has been raving about for a while. He’s not wrong.
The plot’s really well-orchestrated, the characters well rounded and engaging – by the end of episode one, I wanted to know what was in store for each and every one of them.
Also, during my four, five hour movie marathon, I took a few notes; cut-ins for the idiots’ graveyard.
At the moment I’m two thirds of the way through chapter two, so that’s roughly a chapter-and-a-bit to wring ten thousand words out of. So I’m writing episodes that hopefully I can weave into the whole somewhere once I get to the revision stage.

Any day now – cop shoot cop

Ah well, that’s another two thousand words ground out and my month’s count stands at about thirty-two-and-a-half thousand).
I started reading “the hunger games” (yeah – trendsetter, me)… Hmmm. It’s probably already too late to accuse suzanne collins of ripping off “the light entertainment” – which I wrote in march of this year.
I canny believe just how close it is. C’est le guerre.
I’ll rip it down for characters, situations and so on. One day.
Work’s a grinding horror. Still, I finish in another six hours or so and I have the best part of seventy-two hours off, which I shall invest in a spot of keyboard rage.
I’ve not got much done these last couple of days, but I’m hoping to pull myself back up over the next couple.
If anything, i feel pretty damn positive about steaming into the idiots’ graveyard this weekend. And, once I’ve completed tonight’s couple of thousand words, I plan to relax. To the max.
When one works hard and plays hard, it’s vital to balance it all by resting hard, too.
And yeah, I’ll probably end tonight, curled up with “the hunger games”. I’m not wishing I’d written it (yet!) but I *am* enjoying it.

He’s a whore – big black

Another two thousand words squeezed out last night after a full day’s training. That’s me well over thirty thousand (I’m assuming – I didn’t update my word count last night).
I’ve hit that point where characters are starting to surprise me – doing and saying things I never planned and didn’t expect.
There’s a point in every novel where one’s creations start standing up on their hind legs and calling their creator by hir first name. Faced with this, one can cast them down into the fiery pit like a dore engraving or you can just sit back and transcribe the movie.
And what a movie this is turning out to be! Elements of every lousy job I’ve ever had, peopled by every arsewipe I’ve ever worked, studied or broke rocks next to. The galloping neuro-atypical on a bed of draconioan exploitation – it’s well seeing we gots a tory back in number ten.
Which begs the question: if scotland gets independance in a couple of years, will there still be sufficient horrors to write about?
I remember when the edinbury whoors travelled to copenhagen in 1998, we all found it difficult to write anything. Take us out of all that scottish presbyterian thou-shalt-not philophobia and we’re like fish out of pish – redundant.
I took notes on our trip, but it was an uphill struggle. Neither sandie or ray wrote a damn thing whilst we were in denmark.
Talking about it, a day or two before coming back to blighty, we all agreed that we needed the sexual repression and omnipresent sense of judgemental dread we’d grown up with.
Which is sad, really.

the bump – kenny

I got in after another day spent training and ground out another fifteen hundred words. Not my one thousand, six hundred and sixty-seven, but not far off it.
I still need to write at least two thousand words per day to finish on time. I had hoped of being back up-to-date by tonight, but that’s probably not going to happen. C’est le guerre.
Arriving at today’s training, I was informed that all of thursday’s has been cancelled/postponed til next month. So thursday gives me another long lie and another full day sweating over a hot keyboard. Result!
I’m liking the way the plot’s coming together, too. This is the second novel I’ve written from ‘happy ever after’ to ‘once upon a time’ and it’s coming easily (on my good days!)
So, tonight, tomorrow and all day thursday. That should bump my word count up.

sunshine on leith – the proclaimers

Well, last night’s reading went surprisingly well. So many bits came together – other performers turned out to be either really good – and/or people I’d known thirty-plus years.
The music was (as an afterthought) all the tracks culled from the ‘shorties’ folder on my bleakberry: loads of hawkwind, tricky, john cale, hunter/ronson, and so on. Fuck genre. As frank zappa himself said, “there are only two kinds of music – good music and shit.”
Even now, in the cold half-light of almost day, waiting in the downpour for a bus that only takes me to work, last night still feels positive.
To be honest, I never really wanted to do the gig. I’m getting progressively more burnt out with the idea of live performance and have spent a fair bit of time looking at the alternatives.
Last night though, felt like a homecoming.
Old mates I haven’t seen in between seven and twenty years, surprisingly excellent acts and fair amount of currency raised for the pussy riot defense ‘n’ support fund. Win-win.
Mary, susan, andy and spook have again managed to fill yet another venue with out-of-the-blue acts, raise money for a worthwhile cause and somehow, also magickally turn the whole thing into a pretty damn good night out.
I’ll stick at least part of the video up on youtube just as soon as I possibly can.

a past gone mad – the fall

I managed five thousand words yesterday and another twenty-five hundred today, taking my total up to twenty-seven-and-a-half thousand this month.
Now and again, I get a day (or two) where the prose just pours out like pish from a sleeping jakey and each time, I’m surprised at just how groovy that feels. I feel really positive just now – like a ‘proper’ writer (except without the briar pipe and deerstalker). I feel like I could out-write any ten norwegians in this bar, dammit!
What I’m enjoying most about writing this novel is, because it’s set in the workplace, I get to dredge up every crap job I’ve ever had – as well as every neuro-atypical I ever worked with. I’m digging deep for this one, seriously.
It’s like ‘the office’ – a collection of eccentrics – or in some cases, unusuals.
Oh, what a hot hoot my employment history has been!

skyfall – adele

I grabbed some rnr last night, went to see the new bond movie.
When I was fifteen, I went to see ‘the man with the golden gun’, a film so appalling I sat there watching roger moore and britt ekland and thinking, “right. That’s it. I’ve outgrown james bond.” And nothing roger moore did, subsequently, has ever contradicted this.
It wasn’t til timothy dalton and the sun newspaper complaining how violent ‘license to kill’ was, that I took an interest again.
The brosnan films were pretty good and judi dench as m was inspired, but when I think back now, after ‘goldeneye’, the other four brosnans all kind of merge into one another.
Daniel craig, when I got around to seeing the ‘casino royale’, reboot was great. Bond as psycho/loose cannon and vesper’s suicide scene showed the difference between the books (nice polite OD and explanatory note) and the films (explosions, shouting, thousands of gallons of water and the destruction of one square block of venice).
‘Skyfall’, though. The music’s excellent, even the theme song’s a reasonable modern-day take on all those classics like ‘from russia with love’ and ‘thunderball’. And bardem’s the best bond baddie in years.
Sadly, the rest of the film’s just padding. Set-piece choreographed action sequences? Check. Ridiculous stunts? Check. Huge destruction? Car chases? Right prevailing and wrong punished? Aye, sure.
I watched it, waiting for something to happen. And about the best thing to come out of this is all the advertisers who rushed to get the bond brand on their crap, now find they’ve nailed themselves to a sinking piece of crap.
And ralph fiennes as m? Heroic military bloke who was captured by the IRA? Or a re-heating of the republican cunt he played in “maid in manhattan”.
The name’s bond. Fuck off, bond.

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