Friday, 31 October 2008

Happy Halloween!

Some men can play football. Others have a beautiful singing voice. The lucky few are amazing lovers.

I can carve awesome Jack O'Lanterns. It's my burden.

Pizza and beer in for this evening, when we shall be settling down to the delights of Wrong Turn 2 (sex, death and Henry Rollins), The Orphanage (some spooky looking Spanish kid with a bag over his head) and All The Boys Love Mandy Lane (not, as the lady at the video shop suggested, a romantic comedy to finish the night off, but a violent slasher movie).

Have a spooky evening, everyone.

Sunday, 26 October 2008


Nnnnnnyyyyyyeeeeaaaaa... Fable 2 is good. You know, quite good. Literally quite good. Okay, that's out of the way. Let's have a moan.

I'm getting a bit jaded. I know, I've not had anything produced and I'm already getting cynical. It has been said before, not incorrectly, that I'm a massive fucking drama queen.

But, y'know, you start getting nice feedback, top of the world, then you get complacent until you get some bad feedback. You meet a producer, you have lunch, nothing happens. Someone likes your treatment, but they've run out of money. Success not massive currently.

But... (time to turn my frown upside down) I never ever get tired of having a new idea. I fucking love that. That bit where the connections in your brain go... Giant robots - mutant animals - gay romance - a rediscovered Excalibur! (That was just a load of bunch of random words, but it actually sounds quite fun...) Then running off to grab scraps of paper and scribbling down line after line. Mmmmmmm. Actually physically exciting*. Tingly.

I had one of those recently.

Hmmm... this wasn't a moan at all, really, was it?

* Not like that, you with the brain in the gutter.

Sunday, 19 October 2008


Yes, it's perhaps a little premature, but there are Christmas adverts on the telly already.

So we've gone a little Halloween themed here at The Deleted Scenes Screams - for the rest of October, blog mascot Spec Monkey has been shipped off on holiday and The Great Cthulhu will be filling in for him.

Be nice, he's hungry for souls.

Friday, 10 October 2008

Cathedrals and such...

There's a saying that you don't know what you've got till it's gone. I think it's truer that you don't know what you've got till someone points at it and says 'ooooohhh'.

I'll be walking along in Truro and see a tourist taking a photo, which always bemuses me until I look up and recall the bloody great Cathedral standing in the middle of the town.

Similarly, I like my house much more directly after someone new has seen it and said 'oooooh'. I don't spend a lot of time doing that in my own house, that would just be odd, but it's nice to get appreciation of something of your own vicariously.

The opposite also holds true. If someone looks at something of yours and says 'urrrrgh', or even worse 'hmmmmmm...', you get sensitive, even if you love it.

This is true of my short script The Fixer Upper, which personally I think is the best thing I've written, but which has recently come in for a double kicking - my worst review from the Writersroom people to date, who are usually very nice, and getting dropped from the BSSC. I feel a bit sorry for the little fellow.

It also happens to be with an agent currently. Seemed like a good idea at the time...

Monday, 6 October 2008

A few things, then...

So... The Writer's Tale is rather good, isn't it? Now, I'm only two chapters in, so I shan't rave about it like a little schoolboy, but I shall just say that, so far, it's possibly the best book ever. Now, wait until I finish it and decide that it's not really all that. Then I'll just come back and delete this blog post. See how very, very cunning I am. Vulpine, you could say. Oh, yes.

Oh, and go here and get six free scripts, which, yes, I have link whored from Jason Arnopp.

For people who think I never write about proper writing anymore, I'm formulating a televsion adaptation of a public-domain story which is turning very, very nasty in my head, a movie idea which is all going a bit Charlie Kaufman (don't worry, I don't think I'm as talented as he, though I do have better hair) and a short story about a badger who's also a detective. Balance is important.

Finally, I have also been memed, thoroughly memed, by Rach to choose a song that I think sums up writing. Well... not all of it, obviously, but... Drinking in L.A. Someone else has probably got there before me, what with it being the only song I can recall that's literally about screenwriting. And I'm not saying screenwriting's hell, anything but, and in fact I've never been to L.A. But I've had a day just like this, and I really enjoyed it. Just replace the name 'Mike' with 'Dan'. We really did do nothing, absolutely nothing that day.
I woke up again this morning with the sun in my eyes,
When Mike came over with a script surprise.
A Mafioso story with a twist,
A Too Wong Foo, Julie Newmar hitch,
Get your ass out of bed, he said:
I'll explain it on the way.

But we did nothing, absolutely nothing that day, and I say:
What the hell am I doing, drinking in L.A. at 26?
I got the fever for the flavour, the payback will be later, still I need a fix.

And the girls on the bus kept on laughing at us,
As we rode on the ten down to venice again.
Flaring out the g-funk,
Sipping on a juice and gin,
Just me and a friend.
Feeling kinda groovy,
Working on a movie. (yeah right!)

But we did nothing, absolutely butkis that day, and I say:
What the hell am I doing drinking in L.A. at 26?

With my mind on my money and my money on my... beer, beer!

I know that life is for the taking, so I better wise up, and take it quick.

Yeah, one more time at trader vics.

Some men there wanted to hurt us,
Another man said we weren't worth the fuss.
We could see them all bitching by the bar,
About the fine line, between the rich and the poor.
Then Mike turned to me and said:
What do you think we got done, Son?

We've got a conclusion, and I guess that's something, so I ask you:
What the hell am I doing drinking in L.A. at 26?
I got the fever for the nectar, the payback will be later, still I need a fix.

We need to fix you up, call me Monday and maybe well fix it all up.

Hell-a-l.a., hell hell-a-l.a.! ...

So I ask you:
What the hell am I doing drinking in l.a. at 26?

Hell-a-l.a., hell hell-a-l.a.
P.S. My beard has grown back just fine. I know you were all concerned.