I had a meeting this week with the Directors of the Tea company. It seemed to go rather well, and all being well I could find myself involved in their online marketing strategy. I gave a presentation on the matter, highlighting what they should be doing to heighten their business potential by havig a greater online presence. I find out on Monday what sort of opportunity they can offer me. Fingers crossed.

It’s funny, when you suddenly find yourself doing something ballsey, bizarre and oh, I don’t know; ‘grown up’.

This week has been one of falling in the shower, trying not to sleep whilst concussed in the midst of a power cut, pitching a business opportunity, packing boxes, tearing up old photographs, wrapping picture frames, shredding bills, watching The West Wing, consequently admiring Sorkin, shaving beards, rubbing wounds, drinking tea, poaching eggs, ignoring flights, eating seeds, carrying an umbrella when the sun is shining, busting shoes, buying new shoes, feeling fear, feeling happy, listening to ‘New York Minute’ and wishing I was there. Maybe I will be. I mean, who knows what’s ahead of us.

This time last year, I was completing my degree, with Catherine, depressed in Derry, Reading because I had to, A short drive from the beach and generally content.

Now, things are entirely different. It’s odd. There one minute, somewhere, with someone and some things; then not. Somewhere else, with someone else perhaps and some other things.

Where WILL I be this time, 2011? Here? There?

I’ll just have to watch this space. Let’s face it; I’ve nothing better to do.

It’s getting cold again. I’m not writing. I put it to concussion, stress over moving and such.

Let’s hope that’s it. I move Wednesday.

TTFN,

x

I had a meeting this week with the Directors of the Tea company. It seemed to go rather well, and all being well I could find myself involved in their online marketing strategy. I gave a presentation on the matter, highlighting what they should be doing to heighten their business potential by havig a greater online presence. I find out on Monday what sort of opportunity they can offer me. Fingers crossed.

It’s funny, when you suddenly find yourself doing something ballsey, bizarre and oh, I don’t know; ‘grown up’.

This week has been one of falling in the shower, trying not to sleep whilst concussed in the midst of a power cut, pitching a business opportunity, packing boxes, tearing up old photographs, wrapping picture frames, shredding bills, watching The West Wing, consequently admiring Sorkin, shaving beards, rubbing wounds, drinking tea, poaching eggs, ignoring flights, eating seeds, carrying an umbrella when the sun is shining, busting shoes, buying new shoes, feeling fear, feeling happy, listening to ‘New York Minute’ and wishing I was there. Maybe I will be. I mean, who knows what’s ahead of us.

This time last year, I was completing my degree, with Catherine, depressed in Derry, Reading because I had to, A short drive from the beach and generally content.

Now, things are entirely different. It’s odd. There one minute, somewhere, with someone and some things; then not. Somewhere else, with someone else perhaps and some other things.

Where WILL I be this time, 2011? Here? There?

I’ll just have to watch this space. Let’s face it; I’ve nothing better to do.

It’s getting cold again. I’m not writing. I put it to concussion, stress over moving and such.

Let’s hope that’s it. I move Wednesday.

TTFN,

x

The Stones had it nailed. If you try, you get what you need. Trying is key. If you don’t try, you won’t get anywhere. It’s silly to lay dormant; to not grasp at every opportunity given to you. We have one go at this big stage show – better to break the barriers, take the risks and have no regrets.

As a writer, I find myself over-thinking, hesitating and holding back. That said, my hesitancy and tendency to over-analyse often leads to my ‘inaction’. This is a perfect follow up to my previous blog post, wherein I’d spoken about shelving old work. I suppose it’s a similar anecdote – in that you must have confidence, drive and passion in all aspects of both your personal and professional life.

Recently I took a chance and made a pitch to my superiors in work. I took a risk. I outlined a marketing plan, a plan that I can implement from my years of experience freelancing. I suppose it was part of my ‘Resolutions’, in that I’d take more risks, grab more opportunities and do more for myself.

Whether or not these opportunities deliver themselves to us entirely; we can rest assured that we tried.

Perseverance  will lead to great things.

Arms, fingers, legs & toes crossed.

TTFN,

x

Unproductive for many reasons. The most important being that you’ll dig yourself into a trench of inactvity. As a writer, one must learn to ‘shelf’ his work. This is true of many art forms; taking a step backwards, inevitably causes you to dwell on that which you have written whether good or bad.

A number of months ago, I was in conversation with a producer from BBC Radio Scotland, who was very interested in seeing a play of mine transformed into a Radio Drama. As of yet, I still haven’t forwarded the script simply because I haven’t been happy with it. The script in question was a play entitled ‘Æ’, and was written over two years ago.

It’s odd how much you develop as a writer over such a short period as two years. You tend to hone your work. This said, perhaps it is good to read over past work and compare it with that which you are currently producing. It gives you a nice perspective of your progress. Just one word of advice. Read your past work as an ‘outsider’. Alienate yourself from the idea that you are there to edit. Unless of course, you really have to edit.

Having just read through an old script of mine to send to Oran Mor in Glasgow, for their ‘Play, Pie & a Pint’ features – I’ve had to discipline myself NOT to make any changes. It wasn’t easy.

As writers, our scripts; they are our babies. We toil and worry and care for them for so long – but eventually we have to let go. Let them stand alone.

TTFN,

x

I liken it much to my experience in the shower. Experiences, rather. And before you get any ideas; experiences of creativity. Cheeky.

Yes; oddly, I seem to find solace in the shower and the same goes for the subway train. I think the disconnecting from everything else plays a big part in the creative bursts. In both areas; just in different ways.

The shower delivers a relaxing, wet, techology free environment where one can find themselves singing, jiving, conversing with oneself & generally mulling ideas. When I say ‘one’; I speak for myself. Perhaps I’m the only one? Perhaps not.

Where the subway is concerned; there’s a place wherein you aren’t permitted; no, able to converse. Of course it is possible to chatter etc, but for me personally – it seems to be a place void of obligation to speak. In total contrast to the shower, it’s not devoid of technology. It’s not wet (generally). It’s certainly not relaxing. Rather, it’s loud, smells a bit and doesn’t provide the best setting for a conversation. But, for me at least, something interesting happens. When on the subway, I begin to observe more. I see characters that I wouldn’t see if I weren’t placed in a non-verbal, aurally polluted environment. I am, admittedly an observer. I like to watch people. I’m generally interested in people. I just can’t stand them sometimes.

So yes. I’m sure you can tell, I’m divulging a thought that was sparked on the subway train. I’m up. Moving towards the exit of the underground station and struggling to type on my iTelephone. In fact, I just spent at least six minutes trying to correctly type ‘struggling’. And again.

I’m off to view a flat. I’m looking for something rather lovely; and despite the fact that I found the ideal place not two weeks ago, due to a bit of a bastardy situation where late references were concerned, I’m hunting again.

What makes matters worse, is that because we were so sure of getting the lovely place; we’ve signed to vacate our current place.

Twenty three days, and counting until I’m on the street. Fun fun fun.

TTFN,

x

A product of my illness, was a strange, feverish temperature. Ranging from very hot to very cold. It’s calmed a bit now, but I’ve still (in the words of the almighty Withnail) got quite the bastard behind the eyes.

During my feverish state – I slept; albeit sporadically. In short forty minute bursts, I found myself entering dreams of places and people both past and present. Bizarre. And they were lucid. Total control. My first lucid experience to my memory. And it was both joyous and frightening. I found myself giggling mostly. Talking to my friends, family, my ex-girlfriend. Everything had a tint. A haze. All was well. My Grandfather who is suffering from Alzheimer’s at the moment, was tip-top; speaking very fluently about his days in the circus and as a renowned ‘Horsieman’ in Ireland. Any animosity between my ex-girlfriend and I was forgotten, and we reminisced with ease. I even had a moment where for some mad reason – where I and both my good friend Kieran and his friend Ryan (who, I’m acquainted with, but haven’t spent more than perhaps 24 hours in total with the man) shared what can only be described as a wrestling match with a ‘floozie’. Nothing untoward mind you; this was a PG dream.

Yes, so following our little romp with said floozie, Ryan and I had a lengthy discussion about the philosophies of How I Met Your Mother, before meeting Barney Stinson and suiting up. Whilst mine, Barney’s and Ryan’s suits were respectably dapper – Kieran’s was, for the much part, Orange.

At this point, I awoke at 7:45am and had to inform work that I’d be unable to leave the house for both weakness, tiredness and continuing barfing. I had only one dream after that, and whilst it did not seem lucid – I did witness George Harrison jumping onto the roof of my car, whilst chasing what appeared to be a mouse.

And no, before you ask; I did not leave the gas on. Nor did I smoke any narcotics.

Oddly odd.

TTFN,

x

No shit, Sherlock. Ten years, are ten years. Of course a lot is going to happen. The question is, once you fizz through all of the meaningless shite which passes for ‘news’ and ‘occurrence’ in contemporary society – what exactly are you left with?

Well, historic events for one. What galls me, is that for some mind-buggering reason – such atrocities as (unfortunately, the following is NOT what you would expect to follow the word atrocity) Jade Goody’s death, the rise and fall of Katie Price and Peter Andre, the revival of Take That, the cancellation of Top of the Pops and even as far as Who shot Phil Mitchell?; just sadly, don’t cut it for this writer of sorts.

Granted, for some – these may seem monumental. But come on people. I hate to preach to the converted, because more than likely (and let’s be honest) if you’re scrolling through the blogosphere, at least two things are guaranteed. One being, you’re not pandering through some glossy mag, and the second being that you’re not currently glued to the soaps. Lots has happened, and lots will continue to happen. The noughties brought about a lot of conflict and many freak environmental disasters. The world as we know it, is ever increasingly changing and we’re blind to it. Blind to it because of the trash, filth and utter bollocks which passes for newsworthy in this age.

I ask you brothers and sisters, to stand up and convert all idiocy into awareness. All depravity, into desire to at least want to notice the changes in both our social and environmental world. Drop the glossys, switch off Corrie and fucking take note. Things are happening. You’re missing it.

Now, maybe I’m being ridiculous. Maybe it’s Warren Zevon playing in my ears, or maybe it’s the beer talking – but didn’t we seem to just tune out in the noughties?

It’s time to tune  back in again.

It’s been a very rough year, for a lot of us. I can only hope that by awakening ourselves, we’ll be better suited to dealing with the year to come.

My love to you all, and wishes of best – in what I hope will be a year where we start to take notice.

TTFN&AHNY,

x

Much of an antithesis to mosts’ resolutions, I’m pretty certain that I need to elevate the amount of alcohol which I’m indulging in. Then there’s rape. The raping of the social scene in Glasgow that is. I need to get my ass out of my house and start to partake in certain life-worthy experiences. I’m not talking about mass groupings and parties of idiocy. Merely, some form of social exchange in order to vent and build upon noteworthy experiences.

It would also do me good to manage my money a little better. I know, I know. That ones an old bore, isn’t it?

Regardless – I’ve decided that if I’m to encounter said noteworthy experiences, I’m only going to do so through way of fancy, frolics and possibly travel.

When you’re putting your glasses down after the New Year, throwing away your smokes, throwing two fingers to the breeze and saying ‘never again’; think of me. Tippling on some fine wine, talking ears offa’ peoples and being a tight, (financially) miserable old bastard.

Jealous?

No, I didn’t think so.

TTFN&AHNY.

x

A lot has happened for both good and bad, best and worse and you know something? I’m pretty damn fucking good.

I believe I’ve a new found thirst for life and want to do something about said phenomenon. After a long period of numbness and bleak depravation of a healthy lifestyle – I’ve found myself bloom. No more am I relying on the ever wonderful sushi bar for food, no longer am I drumming away at my notepad with nothing to say and no longer am I loosing sleep over… well, nothing.

No. These past weeks, I’ve begun to take care of myself. I’ve begun to live a little again. I’m writing. Fuck yes, I am writing and you know something? Without wanting to blow my own trumpet – it’s not shite.

No, not at all. It’s actually pretty fucking good. Right this moment, I’m writing a scene for the advanced Practical Aesthetics class in Glasgow. Working with screen/playwrights Ann Marie Di Mambro and Chris Dolan; I’m developing a scene based on a short improvisation witnessed in a workshop just a couple of weeks ago.

Both screen/playwrights have deep roots in both television and theatre – but the ever lovely Di Mambro is the course director on the Masters course that I am eagerly waiting on beginning, assuming I get the very competitive scholarship. So far, it’s been an odd, but very nice experience working so closely with someone who will in fact determine not only the next year of my life – but quite possibly the outline of my future career. I’m smart enough to know that the writing industry and television/film industry in general is best infiltrated by mass networking and practice. Practice in the practical sense of practicing your talent and demonstrating such as that. So, my career has begun. I have networked and am still very much in the process of doing so.

I tend to get very overwhelmed when I’m placed in such social situations. Those being, situations involving persons whom I hold in very high regard both professionally and domestically. Thus, it’s hardly a surprise that I possibly ridiculed myself due to jitters and nerves when I formally met Ann Marie and Chris whilst they were having a cigarette outside the studio. After introducing myself, I got very nervous and very silly. In the alleyway, outside the studio – I proceeded from ‘Hello there, How are you?’ to ‘Would you like a cup of tea? We have earl grey, lapsang souchong, ceylon or green – fancy a cup?’.

These aren’t the words of a sane man. Not in a dank, murky alleyway; miles from the nearest kettle at least. Rather, more so the words of a lumbering fool. ie. Me.

So, after a very puzzled glance from Chris and a more understanding, tolerant smile from Ann Marie – we went upstairs and had some tea. And beyond that initial bought of ridiculous blurts on my behalf – it was very nice. I felt like I was a proper writer. I am a proper writer. It’s fun being a writer. We write things. Like this: ‘Hello’.

Moving on – I was very pleased to have been invited to a Christmas shindig at Ann Marie’s Westend Home, where upon arrival, I found myself plonked down onto a very lovely, comfortable sofa with two BBC executives to my right and Ann Marie to my left. Oh, and not to mention her Westie, Scully laying up on my knee (Good judge of character).

A very spontaneous and bizarre evening – but it was one that I’ll very much (without getting too sentimental) hold dear in my mind for years to come.

Something clicked that night. Something told me that all of the stress, anxiety, pain, boredom and sheer fucking monotony of the past four months had FINALLY amounted to something. Right before my eyes, I could see progress.

And I’m open. Ready for spontaneity. Ready for a challenge. Ready to write my little heart out.

The year two thousand and ten is quickly approaching. In these last few days of nine, I think I’ll put to rest a lot of old skeletons and emerge a fresh, spirited and ready individual in the new year.

I’m in Ireland at the moment. Home. Spending Christmas with the family, whom I have to admit – I’ve missed quite some. I very almost didn’t make it home due to silly weather and temperatures and things.

It was quite a harrowing experience indeed, taking off adjacent to a Boeing 747 which has ditched on the airport’s grassy verge due to an icy runway. Way to inspire confidence, eh?

But alas, I am here. I’ve drank my fair share of champers, sloe gin and beaujolais. I’m enjoying good food, good company, a good book, as always good television and a spot of catching up with some old friends, family and such.

So far, it’s been lovely. I only hope that you’ve had as enjoyable a holiday as I have thus far.

Be sure to remember that which is important in life – family, friends and fun. Smile, skip and have a very full, enriched Christmas break.

TTFN,

(Until 2010?)

x

I’ve absented myself, not entirely on purpose; seeing as I’ve only just been made aware by some who are eager to read my babble, that I’ve not posted in over twenty days. Twenty of the days. Two-Zero. Wow, that’s a little extreme, even for my efforts. This little jobby wob must be taking it’s toll. At least by way of a sleep, work, crash, eat?, sleep lifestyle.

It’s a little premature, but some resolutions that I’m hoping to uphold & maintain over the coming months include the following; ‘winding down’, ‘writing more’, ‘reading more’, ‘moaning less’, ‘running more’, ‘fretting less’, ‘rising earlier’, ‘falling sooner’ and generally being more organised… In other words – Normality.

Chaotic, it has been. Brashly, sounding a little Yoda-esque there…

Oh! And not to mention the theatre. My God man. I moved here to write, read and indulge – & I’ve done very little of the entirety of the former. I suppose it makes sense, in that I’m still adjusting to being away from home, amongst other things.

I’m off home for a short jaunt tomorrow. Should be an experience.

Until next time,

x