Home

  • Strangers in the Night

    It’s alright to have bad days. It’s alright to not achieve everything you set out to acheive. These are the kind of things I need to tell myself at the moment, as I’ve had a funny couple of days. Approaching the novel at the moment keeps giving me chills about how much work is involved, and how crucial it is to get everything right- as a result, I get myself worked up, slightly paranoid, and don’t do much. Not Good. I think it’s also that I’m starting to enter the realm where I’ve been on my own for a little too long- 18 days with the bare minimum of actual human contact is a little bit much for me, but I’m going to use the remainder of time as best as I can- not in a “Oh my god, must use the time!!” way, but to have fun with what I’m doing, and to feel that I’m doing something that’s worthwhile and rewarding. Despite the fact that this is the hugest, most terrifying amount of work I’ve ever done on something in my life, and despite the fact that I’ve got a long way to go before I’m finished… I know I can do this. And I’m not intending on stopping.

    I’ll hopefully be seeing my friend Tris on Thursday, all being well- and Dad, Linda and Tom are back a week on Wednesday. The time is going to go very, very quickly…

  • Doctorin’ The Tardis (Thoughts on the end of New Who)

    Okay- the final week of New Who. Below are my thoughts on this weeks, and a little ruminating on the series in general (with, hopefully, a minimum of ranting). Spoilers follow…

    Well, I was right. On the phone to my friend (and long-time Who fan) Paul, I said- “I bet it’s a ‘metaphorical’ death, or something along those lines, and Rose goes to live with her mum and her alternate Dad in the parallel universe.” I didn’t think they’d have the nerve to actually kill her off- it was all tease and then chickening out at the last minute (If anyone can explain how exactly Pete Tyler managed to conveniently turn up in Rose’s path to save her, I’d be very happy to hear a possibility that isn’t just RTD taking the easy way out.) As it turned out, it wasn’t too bad an episode- not a patch on last year’s finale, though, and fears of over-egging turned out to be relatively correct. The Cybermen once again get relegated to easily blown-up silver chumps, the Daleks get to fly around in big swarms and then get hoovered up into the void (presumably where they will remain until the ratings fall), and the plot regularly comes to a halt so that everyone can emote. It’s not the fact that New Who insists on upping the emotional side that bugs me- it’s the fact that they haven’t got to grips with how to do it without bringing the momentum of the episode to a halt. In the big reunion between Alternate Pete Tyler and Jackie, I did end up wishing someone would say “Um… excuse me- Daleks? Cybermen? Maybe doing this at a safer location would be better?”. And the end farewell scene was… exactly as I expected. Nicely played, but that kind of determined working of the waterworks never really goes down well with me, and I did end up wishing it would end. Ah, I’m a heartless old cynic. The last scene was… well… unexpected, and the title of the new Christmas special- “The Runaway Bride”- doesn’t exactly have me salivating in anticipation…

    But, as I’ve said before, New Who isn’t made for me anymore. As it went, Season 2 didn’t actually get me to the point where I wanted to switch off (although Love and Monsters came damn close), but it’s more of an exercise in observing different types of storytelling and why they don’t work than something I fully, wholeheartedly enjoy.

    It did occur to me this week- in the run-up to the big ‘Rose’s Departure’ story, that while the series has undoubtedly gotten better technically (although it still pushes the CGI far too much, especially with the unconvincing flocks of Daleks in tonight’s episode), this season rather dropped the ball in terms of the Doctor and Rose’s relationship. Now, while I had certain issues with it in Season 1, it did work overall- and I think one of the reasons for this is the contrast between Piper and Eccleston. They compliment each other in a much better way than Tennant and Piper do- they’re both good, but they’re both doing essentially the same lively “ah, we’re having such fun” characters, when I think the Doctor/Companion dynamic works better when there’s a little friction. It’s certainly the case in the best pairing- with Tom Baker and Elisabeth Sladen as Sarah Jane, where Baker can be loud, weird and OTT, and Lis Sladen balances it out with her well-played normality. It reminds me of something said by Joss Whedon about how he went about developing the Angel TV series- that you needed someone as bright and smiley as Cordelia to be a sidekick, to balance out the brooding and furrowed-brow nature of the main character. What Season 2 was desperately in need of was a bit of balance, a bit of contrast- and instead, you ended up with a relationship that had absolutely nowhere to go.
    I’d slightly hoped, in the wake of Russel T Davies’ big plan to ‘bring emotional values’ to Doctor Who, that the post-regeneration relationship between the Doctor and Rose would be the literal equivalent of the honeymoon coming to an end, and suddenly finding out that your partner isn’t the person you thought- that it’d add a little friction, a little difference, and maybe it’d get to the point of them actually wanting to go their seperate ways. Instead, we just got the same goo-goo-eyes, “oh, we’re so fantastic” relationship cranked up a few notches, with no interesting wrinkles like Captain Jack thrown into the equation.

    Of course- the question has to be- where the hell does the show go now? This is, at least, the most challenging point that the show has faced since it came back. Changing the Doctor is one thing- but by losing Rose, they’re essentially going to have to reboot the show from scratch (especially considering that they’re not going to be able to bring the Cybermen or the Daleks back for a while without it looking lazy), and this is where the test is going to be. The old show’s ability to change was the one thing that kept it alive- but are they going to change it, or are we just going to end up with the same situation in slightly different clothes? I’m slightly interested, but I’m not holding my breath. New Who has had a few moments of greatness since it came back- best, and most surprising of which, was actually The Girl in the Fireplace- but the storytelling has, largely, gotten shonkier and shonkier (even tonight had the hilarious sight of the leader of Torchwood conveniently turning up and- despite having had all emotions erased- saving the day, as well as weeping tears of oil!!!), with even the loosest, most airy-fairy Old Who-style logic taking a back seat to big emotion, big spectacle, and some deliriously out-of-place gags.

    (As a side-note- I find Russell T Davies’ general “I’m fantastic, the show’s great, and everything we do is utterly superb” tone in interviews both slightly annoying, and rather difficult to believe. I can understand the need to be bullish and confidant, but to be able to look at everything that they’ve done and say “Yes, it’s all fantastic, no need to change anything” just boggles the mind. The producer of the new version of Battlestar Galactica, Ron Moore, is actually suprisingly open about when he feels the show gets it wrong- particularly in the second half of season two, when it does mess up a few times. He’s actually done podcast commentaries where he says “I don’t like this episode- it doesn’t work, and it’s nobody’s fault but my own”. I can’t help feeling that a little of that kind of humility might do RTD some good, and might make him do better work. I also find it ironic that he’ll say that he didn’t want New Who to be self-aware and silly, or to get too over-dependent in it’s own mythology in the way that Old Who did, and then goes ahead and throws bucketloads of self-aware silliness into episodes like Love and Monsters, while overdosing on the show’s recent mythology to a hysterical degree. Ah well. Rant over.)

    Who and I- we’re growing apart. Sad, but true. I’ll still pop in and check on the show, but I think any chance of maintaining a healthy relationship is pretty long gone. Well, good luck to it, and a few years along the line- who knows? 

    Apart from all that nonsense which has been rattling around my head for a while, it’s been a quiet, peaceful couple of days. I’ve had a couple of good thoughts relating to new stories to work on, and been on some very satisfying walks through the countryside. Tomorrow, I start sitting down with the book and trying to get the world to work. It might be hard, it might be tricky- but I’m going to get there in the end.

    George is a little poorly at the moment- she’s down at her parents, helping out with things, and I just wish I was there to give her a hug. Still, we are on the home stretch of this particular gap, now. 

    Not too long to go…

  • Madrugada Eterna

    It’s done.

    361 pages. 157,000 words. And a whole heap of errors, problems, inaccuracies and downright mistakes. However, I have gotten through to the end of the first draft. There’s an awful lot of work to be done, but I’m taking the next two days off, as I need to re-acclimatise myself to reality, and generally let my brain recover. It’s strange, though, to think that all the pieces are in place. They may be the wrong shape, and they may need a tremendous amount of work, but they’re there.

    After the next couple of days, my next priority is to try and get the novel’s fictional world working properly,- not to the extent that it overwhelms the story, but just enough so that I know how the various galactic civillisations actually work (especially as while the current novel is a standalone adventure, it’s also potentially set up as a series of escapades for my lead character). I don’t know if realistic economics and geopolitics is my thing- but I love worldbuilding, and I want this thing to have as much detail as is possible.

    It’s officially two weeks since I arrived, which feels downright peculiar, and in fourteen days time, I will be back in London. It’s been a peaceful but strange ride so far, and once I get back to it on Sunday, I want to make sure that I use the available time to the best of my abilities.

    I’m very proud of what I’ve done- and I think I can see that novel that it needs to be. There’s a crapload of work to be done, but I think I can get it there, and there are certain sections (particularly towards the climax) where the storytelling gets utterly mental, and I’m actually quite excited about the idea of getting something this loopy finished to a good standard.

    Tonight, I’m going to barbecue some sausages, drink some wine, and do my best to relax. Tomorrow, I may try and voyage out on an exploratory walk, to expand my horizons. And Saturday- apart from watching with a mix of mild hope and extreme cynicism as New Who comes to the end of Season 2, may be a time when I actually start to think about what I’m going to do next, and throw some ideas around about the two “Young Adult” novel ideas I’ve got- one for the girls, one for the boys, both of them pretty damn loopy.

  • Don’t Get Lost in Heaven

    I have a list of things to complete on the novel, and when I’ve completed it- I’ll actually have a complete, bona fide, gap-free first draft. (To be honest, certain sections are approaching third and fourth draft, but at least the whole thing will be kind of together). It’ll be a horrible mess full of errors, inconsistencies, and a whole selection of stuff that needs to be expanded, rewritten or just taken out behind the shed and shot, but it’ll be a version that’s actually finished. I then move officially from the world of writing to the world of rewriting, which- considering how I’ve spent the last five years as a journalist- is a world I’m a little more confidant with. If I can get past the ‘thinking stuff up’ stage without making my head explode, then I can usually manage the rewriting stage.

    I’m making progress, and I’m doing well. Once I get it done, there will be a break, and there will be wine.

    Not much else to report, except that on a visit to the nearby village, it took me a couple of looks in the newsagent to realise that the latest new glossy magazine for women is actually called “Happy”, and not “Harpy” as I initially read it.

    Hey ho…

  • Go to Sleep

    Lots of writing. Not much else. Trying to spend as little extra time at a keyboard as possible. I’ll try and update once the list that I’ve written down today has every entry crossed off.

    Life is quiet, but good.

    Fifteen days to go. And it’s going to go too quickly.

  • Ghostdive

    (Just so you know- my titles at the moment are all culled from my writing playlist- the loud, weird stuff that I listen to non-stop to get my brain going).

    Okay- Week 12 of New Who, the first episode of the big season finale. Russell T Davies on script duties once again, which means the tone is all over the shop, there’s some epic stuff in the offing and a handful of genuinely cool moments- trouble is, it’s feeling like he’s over-egging the pudding with way too many ingredients (My instincts after last week’s teaser? Absolutely correct!) It varies between really good and shockingly embarrassing, and the teaser for next week didn’t really excite me. It’s fun, but it’s only an echo of the Who I remember. C’est La Vie.

    Today turned out to be mainly a day of rest and recharging my batteries, although I did solve one problem with the book, and I’m all set for a mass of work tomorrow. Chapters 10 and 11 are going to have all the gaps filled in them, or I’m not going to bed. I am a determined man… (Oh yes…)

    My Galatica fest managed two episodes today- the one that proves that the show’s one true weakness is comedy (there are some seriously excrutiating moments there), and the one that proves kick-ass space opera is the way to go. I’m going to settle down for a Galactica blow-out, and watch the last three episodes of Season One all in one go tonight. It’s hard to believe I’ve still got two and a half weeks on my own, and I have the feeling it’s going to go worryingly quickly. I am, therefore, going to work my ass off from hereon in. I’ve set myself targets for this time next week- and if I work really hard, there’s no reason why I can’t acheive them…

    Time to go watch. More work tomorrow.

  • Novocaine Rhapsody

    My confidence is bouncing up and down like a yo-yo. I’m not letting it stop me from writing, but I do keep looking at the possibilities facing this book once I actually hack it into shape, and they generally make me want to hide in a corner, stick pencils up my nose, wear my underpants on my head and say “Wibble” a lot. I guess I just keep seeing lots of these “first-time author becomes next-big-thing” hype machines happening in the world of SF and Fantasy, and while there’s a part of me that would love for that to happen, the rest of me keeps looking at what I’m making- and it’s an outrageous, jam-packed, nonsensical comic-strip slice of pop sci-fi that’s full of sex, comedy, romance and genuine self-discovery. (Gosh- now that I put it like that, it actually sounds quite good…) It’s just very unlike anything I’m seeing at the moment, and the fact that it isn’t designed to be completely serious- that it’s designed to be a brash, colourful and pulpy sci-fi novel that you can dance to, the literary equivalent of a Franz Ferdinand album- has me slightly worried that I’m talking utter bollocks, and people are going to take one look at it and say “The science doesn’t work and it’s all rather lightweight!” Well, if they do, they do. I’ll take it as it comes, but for the moment, I’m just going to be proud to produce a novel that’s absolutely unrepentantly 100% mine and nobody elses. I’m even getting the beginnings of genuine instincts about how it should go, and what directions to go in. There’s a long way to go- but then, I’m here alone for another 18 days, so I should be able to get a reasonable distance before I have to vacate back to the Big Smoke.

    Two pieces of good news for me in the working world- I’ve got a manuscript to read for someone, plus I’ve got four days of subbing booked in for directly after the Edinburgh Film Festival. Life is going to be busy, but I’ve now almost paid my monthly wage all the way through until the end of October, which is a nice situation to be in…

    Tomorrow, I battle chapters 10 and 11, in an attempt to wrestle the biggest gap in the novel under my control. I’m working my way through, slowly but surely, and I’m going to get there in the end.

  • It Must Be Obvious…

    Major, major relief- after getting very annoyed with the digital TV receiver, I called the technical support line and it turns out that it’s a software problem that mainly happenned because I pressed the wrong button. The receiver is back to its old self, and I no longer have to panic about using the phrase “And now, there’s the bad news…” when Dad gets back.

    I’m also staring at the novel and trying to fit a certain amount of exposition into a certain amount of space. I really really need to get chapters 7-9 right, otherwise I’m not going to have a decent foundation to build the rest of the novel on.

  • Voyage to Avalon

    Progress is being made. Of course, progress being what progress is, it could easily grind to a halt when I’m not looking but, for the moment, I’m easing myself through a section of the book that’s previously been causing me no end of trouble. Visualise it as me in a boat, using the oars to gently propel myself through tricky waters, and constantly being amazed that I don’t sink. There’s going to be a massive amount of rewriting necessary to properly stitch together what’s currently attached by duct tape and string. I am, however, quietly hopeful that even if I haven’t totally finished by the end of this sabattical in Cornwall, I will at least have gotten a shitload of work done. Three weeks today, I will be back in London. 21 days is a long time, but at the moment, I think I’m going to miss this place and all the quiet little rituals- watering the plants, feeding the fish, and the minature exercise regime which I think I’m going to have to try and find some way of continuing when I’m back in London. Returning to the big smoke after nearly four weeks of being in a quiet country house on my own is likely to be a bit of a shock.

    I spent most of yesterday walking to Redruth and back on a shopping mission, which was a very eerie experience and involved me walking along a few routes that I haven’t been on for nearly eleven years, and lots of hazy memories that verged on deja-vu. I also ended up taking a wrong turn halfway through the journey there, resulting in lots of wandering, confused gazing at the map and cries of “What the hell is the dual carriageway doing over THERE?!?” I got myself sorted in the end, but it did add a certain edge to the journey that I didn’t quiet need. At the least, I did get enough food so I should be okay for quiet a while (barring the occasional trip into the village for supplies).

    I feel like I should have more to report, but life is very, very quiet. About the most dramatic thing that hapenned is that Dad and Linda’s digital TV recorder has apparently gone mad for no discernable reason. It behaves perfectly normally- until it picks up a television signal, at which point it immediately shuts down, and restarts. I’m pretty sure it’s not meant to be doing that, so I may have to call the customer service line. I foolishly said to myself “Well, nothing major seems to have gone wrong for a while” this morning. That’ll learn me.

    I’m having a televisual time at the moment. Battlestar Galactica (The remake, not the creaky original) Season One in the afternoons, and Deadwood Season One in the evening. Galactica is still top stuff, although they have an extreme problem with doing self-contained single episode stories- the ‘saga’ episodes are infinitely superior, the majority of standalones in season one are way too talky and not very exciting, and the only places where season two slipped up were in the self-contained single episodes (Plus, they seemed to forget the art of setting up storylines that they practiced so well in Season One- instead, there’s a whole host of plotlines in the second half of the second season that seem to come out of nowhere, including a relationship between two characters that had me saying “Um… excuse me, when the hell did that happen?” I am quietly hopeful that the killer set-up for Season 3 will keep these issues to a minimum.) Deadwood is standing up well to a second viewing- it’s incredibly brutal stuff, and I’d actually forgotten exactly how amazingly foul-mouthed and edgy it is, but the thing I find most fascinating about is the way that all the brutality and amorality in the story makes the small moments of morality and humanity all the more affecting. I’m thinking of lending it to my Dad when he gets back, and I’m hoping he can get past the admittedly gruesome violence and the sheer brutality of it all, as it’s a fascinating show, and hopefully I’ll be able to see Season Two sooner rather than later.

    Now, to bed. There’s more writing to be done tomorrow.

  • Duelling Jackdaws

    I just saw a pair of birds engaged in what can only be described as an enthusiastic scrap out by the pond. They flew apart, they jostled around each other, there was much chirruping, and finally they flew off to opposite ends of the garden. Who knows what that was about?

    Much progress is being made. A more detailed update soon…