T-Minus 3 Days

If there’s one activity I hate, it’s having to put my books in boxes when I don’t know exactly when I’ll be unpacking them. It’s not something that’s good for the soul, and today has been very little other than packing. I’ve got to that point where the books are 90% done, but everything’s gotten very diffuse and odd, and the last 10% seems to take five times as long as it should do. I seem to be bouncing between feeling incredibly overwrought and breaking down every five minutes, and a very peculiarly blank feeling of emotional numbness. It does, at least, feel as if I’m trapped aboard a ship that’s plunging into a Black Hole- it doesn’t really feel like anything exists beyond next Monday, and it’s going to be exceptionally odd (and not to say a little traumatic) to actually get there.

I did at least have a tremendous time at the Gollancz party last night – I was even kindly given a lift, so I could get drunk with impunity. Thankfully, I avoided getting weird and emotional drunk, instead plumping for kooky and eccentric drunk (which is always more fun). Had some great conversations, some great laughs, and I’m also reminding myself that just because I’m moving to Manchester, it doesn’t mean I’m falling off the edge of the world.

I’m going to be really, really glad when this is all over. Well, to be honest, I’m probably going to lock myself in a room and do an operatic amount of sobbing. But then, after that, I will be glad. I’m doing this for the right reasons, and at least this way I have the hope of making things better.

Tick tock tick tock…

T-Minus 6 Days

An epic trip to London yesterday to flog the remainder of the books, which saw me carrying a rucksack, a luggage trolley and another bag all the way across the Underground, and also saw me experiencing an unexpected nosebleed at Notting Hill Gate. Nevertheless, it all went well, I was able to meet up with my friend Claire, and a good day was had. Now, I’ve only got the Gollancz party on Thursday between myself and D-day, which means it’s time to start packing, sorting and organising like there’s no tomorrow. It’s going to feel a little insurmountable for a while, plus I’m determined to try and get most of it done by Friday, because I do not want my usual experience of leaving things to the last minute and sprinting around like a headless chicken. I do, however, know that I’m doing the right thing, and I think I’ve got to the point where I’m looking forward to this chunk of the process being over. At the least, thanks to my exchange-voucher related shennanigans yesterday, I’m not exactly going to be short of things to watch, having obtained a massive selection of DVDs that I’ve been quite keen to obtain for a while.

Lots to do. And not quite enough time to do it all in…

T-Minus 13 Days

I haven’t quite got the details sorted yet – but whatever happens, I will be in Manchester in two weeks time. The weekend was spent in lots of travelling and visiting (my friend Paul in Bournemouth, and my sister in Devon), and now I’m back, and suddenly this is all feeling much harder than before. Three days of subbing at IPC is helping keep me occupied, as will various other activities planned over the next week or so, but right now this is feeling somewhere between the most sensible thing I can possibly do in the circumstances (something which will, eventually, be better and healthier for me), and like I’m voluntarily cutting my own leg off without anasthetic – and then wondering exactly how the hell I’m going to be able to walk afterwards. I know I’ll be able to – it’s just that doubt and dark thoughts are worryingly frequent companions right now.

I am, at least, enjoying the hell out of Season 1 of The Wire, and realising I’m really going to have to start collecting the rest of the show. I’m also enjoying Charlie Jade, I’ve got lots of stuff lined up after that (including some classic Who), and whatever happens, I am going to get through to a point where I can smile again (even if it takes me a little while)…

Shadow of the Bat

As an intermission from the somewhat downbeat (if understandable) current nature of this blog, here’s some thoughts that have been burbling around in my head, and which spun out of The Dark Knight…

I was a very craze-driven child. An idea would spark in my head, and I’d follow it completely. My first craze was SF, and most particularly Doctor Who, but eventually I would spread out – and some of my crazes would sometimes surprise me. I can remember thinking “Good lord, those daft metal Citadel Miniatures figures are ridiculously expensive – you’d have to be a complete idiot to be into that”, and barely a year later I was knee deep in them and slapping paint on them like there was no tomorrow. I can also remember thinking the same thing about American comics – I was raised on a diet of Doctor Who Monthly and 2000AD, and the bright, four-coloured universes of American Comics seemed completely alien to me.

Then, however, a few things happenned. I worked out that the same person seemed to have written a lot of comic strips I liked – and his name was Alan Moore. I knew he was writing this US comic called ‘Swamp Thing’- I looked at a recent issue, and it didn’t really look like my kind of thing. Too garish, too comic-y, lacking the grit that made 2000AD work. But then, I picked up a nice black-and-white collected edition of Swamp Thing: Volume Two, and it nearly took my head off. This was creepy, weird and beautifully done stuff, and then I was noticing that a name I recognised from the introductions of various Swamp Thing graphic novels, and a name who’d also written various film reviews in a magazine called Space Voyager (including one about Terry Gilliam’s Brazil, which led to me watching what was to become my favourite film) was also now writing comics. In fact, there was this new one that had just come out – I didn’t know anything about it, but I loved Dave McKean’s artwork and he’d done the cover, so I thought ‘Why not’? and gave issue 1 of Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman a try.

The thing which opened out the world of comics, however, was The Killing Joke. The combination of Alan Moore and Brian Bolland was more than my brain could take – I already knew Bolland for being the artist on the original (and best) Judge Death strips in 2000AD, and his work and craftmanship was simply amazing, resulting in comics that seemed to leap off the page at you. As a result, picking it up for £1.95 seemed like a slam-dunk, and it was the first ‘prestige format’, square-bound and glossy comic I’d ever read. It was also one of the most amazing, even though it took a couple of reads to completely get all the nuances. The main thing to remember about The Killing Joke is that, at the time, to anyone outside the world of comics, you said ‘Batman’ and the instant result was Adam West. The show had been repeated regularly, and was heavily ingrained in pop culture. It didn’t matter that Batman wasn’t originally like that – that was the most recent screen iteration, and that’s what stuck. And I think that’s one of the main reasons why the ‘Graphic Novel’ craze in the late Eighties happenned – while Watchmen attracted plenty of attention (and has, arguably, ended up with more longevity), it was The Killing Joke and especially The Dark Knight Returns that grabbed the limelight, simply because this was a take on a character we simply weren’t used to seeing. Going from Adam West and Burt Ward dashing around a garish Gotham and battling with Cesar Romero’s hilariously overacting Joker, to a pretty-damn terrifying Joker crippling Batgirl, abducting Comissioner Gordon and putting all his effort into trying to drive him insane – it was a major conceptual leap, and there’s a mythic aspect to both Knight and Joke that plays into it as well. It’s seeing what had succesfully been played as a self-aware joke suddenly turned straight – neither side was necessarily wrong (the Sixties Batman show is, while repetitive, also hilarious fun), it was the shock of the new, it was seeing something familiar in a brand new light. I went on to read The Dark Knight Returns, but while Frank Miller’s style and bombast was impressive, it was the insidious creepiness of The Killing Joke that stuck with me, and the way it managed to make the Joker both fearsome and tragic.

It was probably this that meant I went to see 1989’s Batman (as did most of civilisation at the time), and came out thinking “?” Let’s not mince words – the 89 Batman movie is a triumph of production design, but it”s really not a particularly good movie. Tim Burton is a great stylist but as a storyteller he’s hugely dependant on the script, and it also doesn’t help that he’s far more interested in the freaks than Batman himself – a problem that became especially apparent in Batman Returns. The 89 original has a couple of decent moments, and certainly opened up the idea of a darker interpretation of the Batman mythos, but it’s not a particularly exciting movie, and Jack Nicholson’s turn as the Joker is a shamelessly lazy bit of overacting – a performer who obviously knows his best work is behind him getting paid obscene amounts of money to have fun on a film he wasn’t too keen on making in the first place. It was the first event movie where it didn’t seem to matter how good the film was but how universal the merchandising presence was, and I remember feeling like they really hadn’t gotten it. There were brief aspects of the darker, creepier version of Batman there, but the whole thing was cartoony, played broad, and simply never felt like it completely meant it, combined with the virtual absence of a plot.

The film series spiralled downwards into Shumacher hell with Batman Forever – one of the few films to genuinely give me a migraine – while I went through some serious comic phases, and even picked up Batman itself regularly during one of the OTT multi-issue crossover ‘events’ that were so prevailent back in the early Nineties. Knightfall, where Bruce Wayne is driven to the edge and crippled, and an unbalanced new Batman takes his place, was rough around the edges but had a sense of drama and reality that the films were completely ignoring. It was good, action-packed stuff, even if my attention drifted away as the series started inevitable heading back towards the status quo. I was sensible enough to avoid Batman and Robin at the cinemas – I once attempted to sit through it on video, and only made it about half an hour in before I had to switch it off. The fact that the rest of the world seemed to feel the same was reassuring, in a way, but then the series became mired in development hell, and the idea of anything decent coming out of it seemed absurd.

It was Christopher Nolan who got me interested again. I loved Batman Begins when I first saw it – I still like it, but some of the cheesier dialogue and the ‘blockbuster mentality’ of the final half hour is rather hard to swallow. Most of all, it was a relief to see a Batman film that was actually about Batman, and which approached the whole mythos from a rigidly realistic perspective – taking you in step by step, showing Bruce Wayne finding his way towards being Batman, and making it somehow convincing and believable that a billionaire playboy is dressing up in bat-themed military-spec gear and going out to beat the crap out of criminals. Christian Bale was near-perfect casting – he’s not the warmest actor in the world (it’d be nice, if unlikely, to see him in a comedy) but he completely nails Bruce Wayne as an actual character, and the film served up a whole collection of talented character actors, and a low-key but excellent villain in Cillian Murphy’s Scarecrow. It’s a far more consistent film than the fun but over-rated Spider-Man 2 – it just didn’t quite get where it needed to be, and there was the sense that a really, really impressive film was trying to get out from behind all the obvious notes from the studio and blockbuster quips.

Well, it turns out that that impressive film has come out – it took Batman Begins to get to The Dark Knight, and it’s an upgrade that makes the increase in quality between X-Men and X-Men 2 look hilariously mild by comparison. It’s not perfect – there are elements in The Dark Knight that are a little tricky, I’m not completely fond of Harvey Dent’s look as Two-Face (It’s suitably grotesque, but feels just a little too extreme and comic-book to fit with the otherwise rigidly realistic world Nolan has created), the plotline with Gordon’s fake death was bewildering and unconvincing (it’s not like they were ever going to kill Gordon off- or even if they did, they wouldn’t do it in such an off-hand manner) and some of the action sequences could do with being a little clearer and less frantically edited – but as superhero movies go – and frankly, movies in general – this was amazing stuff. What’s most astonishing is that, essentially, it’s an epic crime thriller, it’s Batman done as a Michael Mann film, and the simple excess of “Oh my god, they’re not going to – THEY DID!!” moments is something to behold. It’s a 2 1/2 hour movie that doesn’t really drag, and it’s also one of the most fantastically bleak blockbusters I’ve seen – it’s seriously unforgiving, amazingly violent, and with a tone and reach that had me sat there, in my IMAX cinema seat, amazed. (As a note – the IMAX version was amazing, but it was a little distracting at times – the switch between formats would sometimes happen for a single cityscape shot, and I can’t help feeling it would have been better if they could have kept it purely for specific sequences).

And then, of course, there’s Heath Ledger. Watching an actor who’s died young is always a faintly morbid experience, especially in this case as it’s hard to deny that Ledger is anything other than absolutely phenomenal in this role. Together with the screenplay, this is a version of the Joker that’s the closest I’ve ever seen to The Killing Joke – not a capering, quipping rent-a-villain with a fake smile, but a sick, twisted and utterly psychotic clown who’s near-unstoppable simply because of the fact that he doesn’t care about anything except chaos – and yet they actually managed to take the character even further. I know there have been complaints about the level of violence in The Dark Knight – it’s certainly the tough end of the 12A, and yet most of it is in tone rather than visuals, and frankly, it’s a Batman film. It’s a dark story, and if it doesn’t tackle some dark and disturbing stuff, it’s not doing its job properly. Ledger is incredible in this, nestling comfortably in the top-ranks of cinematic villains. It’s tragic that he’s gone, but as last complete performances go, this is a hell of a note to end on.

The success of The Dark Knight is somewhat amazing, considering how pitilessly bleak it is – and it’s rather concerning that as a result of that success, one of the Warner Bros production heads has said that they’ll be marching lots more DC heroes into production, and aiming for the same kind of dark tone as that’s obviously what people want. It’s understandable from a business point of view, but it’s also a major mistake. Bryan Singer’s dour and misconceived (but still occasionally majestic) Superman Returns may not have relaunched the franchise the way WB hoped, but I can’t even see the point of a dark, hard-edged Superman film. The whole principle of Superman is that he’s the yin to Batman’s yang – together they’re the day and night of the DC universe. Superman Returns failed because it was too faithful to the wrong bits of the original Superman films – instead of capturing the fun, Singer went for the angst and the slow pace, and ended up with a film that’s really not that enjoyable (I feel sorry for Brandon Routh – he’s genuinely excellent in Superman Returns, but doesn’t get the film he deserves). Superman needs to be bold, colourful and brassy to work – Superman II is, despite being a hodge-podge of Richard Donner and Richard Lester, superbly entertaining and gets almost all the notes right. And they should also beware, as superhero comics themselves went ultra-dark as a result of The Dark Knight Returns and Watchmen – suddenly you couldn’t move for vengeful, driven heroes and dark, unpleasent stories. And people got bored.

Dark works with Batman – it’s not going to work with everything. The Dark Knight returns hasn’t made over $500 million at the US Box office because its dark, or even because Heath Ledger is dead. It’s earned it because it’s a very, very good film thats packed with enough good stuff to warrant a re-watch, and if they can remember that when they green-light their next superhero flicks maybe- just maybe- they’ll have a chance….

Another One Bites The Dust

I have a weird relationship with being busy – it’s part of existance as a freelancer, but I seem to veer from absolutely nothing happening and shaking my fists at the sky in sheer bored frustration, to having virtually every single second of every day accounted for and filled by a torrent of work. This is one of those times – I’ve just finished my first go at sub-editing a book, almost a week-and-a-half of work, and my brain feels like it’s been reduced to the consistency of a milk shake. Added to which, I’ve got a book review to finish, another manuscript to red (Edit- this should, obviously, say read. See below for further comment…) by Thursday, and a film review to finish by Thursday. Plus, I’ve got another film I’m seeing on Thursday, and next week I’ve got three days of magazine subbing. On top of all this, of course, I’ve got the now worryingly close prospect of my move to Manchester, which is now only three weeks away, and there is a whole selection of things I’ve got to do between now and then. But, when it comes to the crunch, I would rather be busy at the moment than not – there are various financial issues to be sorted, and I don’t know exactly how well or badly I’ll be doing once I’m away and officially ‘on my own’, but the work I’m doing right now can only help.

One side-effect of what’s happening is that I’m also selling and exchanging lots, slimming down the DVD collection (which has now been officially split between mine and George’s, with a couple of casualties on my side that I’ll hopefully be able to re-acquire soon) via the world of Computer Game Exchange on Ramillies Street in London, and the resulting exchange vouchers are enabling me to get some stuff that I’ve wanted to get for a while. Season 1 of The Wire, Season 1 of The Shield, the complete series of oddball Canadian/South African SF series Charlie Jade and – in an unexpected scoop – the collector’s edition of E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial, which is the only R2 edition that has the original un-CG-tampered version of the film. I’m mainly stocking up so that once I arrive in Manchester, I can lock myself away from the world for a little while and simply lose myself in quality drama – although I think picking up something a little upbeat as well might be a help.

It’s been an odd, slightly intense weekend, but I’m doing okay.

And thank you to all who left messages on the previous post – it really meant an awful lot.

From Despair to Where

Okay. It’s explanation time.

I’m still not used to the idea that people actually read this blog. If there is such a thing as an actual ‘Reader of Saxon’s Blog’, I’ve been doing my best to ignore them for a while – I’ve never been a regular blogger, but my input has been dwindling to virtually nothing over the last few months (well, if you don’t count my worrying over-analysis of various Who episodes). And the thing is, it’s not like I’ve been short of things to write about. The reason I’ve been avoiding writing about them is that the last few months have, on the whole, not been good. I don’t like the idea of transforming the blog into a litany of things that get me down (as if there’s ever going to be a shortage of that), but events have got to a point where there are some seismic changes happening that I’m not going to be able to ignore or pretend not to notice.

The truth is this: my wife and I are separating.

This isn’t something we’re doing lightly – to be honest, it’s currently feeling like it’s going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done – but it’s something that can’t be avoided. George and I still care about each other a lot, but we’ve been having problems for a long time and we’re no closer to solving them. There comes a point when you’ve had the same conversation over and over again, and you start to suspect that the reason it’s never going to be solved is that it simply can’t be solved – and we’ve been trying hard for a long time, but the way we’ve been living together hasn’t been making either of us happy. It’s a horrible situation, but we have the choice to end it now, amicably, rather than try and stretch it out, try to fix up, and likely end up hating each other. Her friendship is too important to me – I don’t want to be without it, and I can let go of all the other negative stuff in the past if it means we can still be friends after this is over. It just hasn’t worked – the move down to Hampshire was a brave attempt, and it’s taught us a lot, but in the long run it didn’t work. I wish it had, but it didn’t, and nothing I can do can change that. I just need to look to the future now, be positive, and not dwell on things I may or may not have gone wrong. Positivity is the only thing that’s going to get me through this.

Of course, the fact is that I’m going to have to completely transform my life. There’s no way that I can stay where I am – but thankfully, a very good friend of mine from University named Anna, who’s been rightly described (by another friend of mine) as one of the nicest people in the country, has offered me a place to stay. She moved to Manchester about three years ago, has bought a house, and has a back room she’s not doing anything with – so I’m going to be her lodger. It won’t be forever – at the moment, I’m looking on this as an interim phase of my life for the next few months to give me a chance to get my head straight, and rebuild my life in a way I’ve never done before. Manchester isn’t the first place I might have thought of to go – but the one thing I didn’t want to do was go back to London. I left at the end of 2006, and I’m still glad I left, and going back at this stage would feel like a terrible mistake. At the moment, the majority of the work I’ve been doing is stuff I can do from home – things may change, and I may have to evolve with them, but the only things that are actually tying me to London are things I don’t really enjoy or like anymore. The idea of going to a new city, and starting again… it’s both scary and exciting.

I want to do this right. I want this to have a happy ending, so I can look back and think to myself that, however things turned out, I tried my best to do the right thing. The last two years have not been easy for a variety of reasons – but there have also been happy times, and I wouldn’t exchange them for the world. While there have been moments in the last few weeks when I’ve wanted to crumble into a thousand pieces, I am keeping myself together, and I am keeping on track. It’s not firmly locked down to a precise date, but my departure time for Manchester is the end of September – just over three weeks, and a period of my life that’s already going to be packed with frantic activity. I am, however, going to try and keep myself happy. Much of this is going to be painful, but we’re doing it for the right reasons. We’re taking the more difficult road and throwing the hard six, and in the end, that’s the best either of us can aim for.

Above everything else, I need to keep myself writing. Not to get published, not to give myself a sense of acheivement, but because – despite my confidence often preventing me from getting down and actually putting finger to keyboard – it’s something that makes my life make sense. And I have the feeling it’s what I was put on this planet to do.

So, no more bellyaching. No more complaining. And, hopefully, no more depressed extended silences on this blog.

Time to get to work…

Mostly Harmless

Another rejection for the book today. Ironically enough, I had been recently complaining that it’d be great even to get a turn-down, just to know that somebody has read it. It was a very polite, very flattering rejection that was nice about the book – but I’m going through rather a tough time right now, and this isn’t making it any easier. My incapability of getting serious work done on other fiction writing isn’t helping, but I’m going to work on a few exercises to at least flex my imaginative muscles. Even if I’m having a bad time, I’ve got to keep my imagination working for me – it’s the one thing that’s really going to keep me happy.

I know life will improve, and that things will start looking up. It’s just one of those times when I wish they’d damn well hurry up…

34 years on the planet…

My birthday has arrived. A gentle wake-up, a relaxed morning, lots of lovely birthday wishes via Facebook, and soon George and I will be heading into London to have fun, rummage around in some shops, and finally get to see The Dark Knight at the BFI IMAX. Life is somewhat complicated and strange and difficult at the moment, but I’m not going to let it get in the way of having a good day today.

Fated to Pretend

I’m 34 tomorrow. Age-wise, I’m getting to that time when multiplying my age by 2 starts resulting in some scary numbers. I’m not sure how keen I am on the idea of getting older.

This blog has been inactive for a while. There’s been many reasons for that, some of which will remain secret, others which will be revealled soon, but not right now.

I guess this entry is here mainly to say that I’m still here, I’m still alive, and that explanations aren’t far away.

More soon…