Screenwriters' Festival - Like Glastonbury Without the Silly Hats

I've suddenly realised that the Screenwriters' Festival in only a handful of months away.


Admittedly, I've only realised this after getting another email from the organisers demanding a headshot for the delegates list. So I got the Better Half to take this:

The thick-rimmed glasses. The cardigan. The thousand yard stare. Doesn't it just scream "professional writer"? That or "likes to keep his victims in a box".

I'm wholly unprepared for the whole event. I've completely forgotten the plot of "In the Name of Light Entertainment", my entry for the "Son of a Pitch" contest. Not a good start. I also have an uncontrollable urge to sing "Sweet Caroline" if anybody hands me a microphone.

So, who's going? Where are you staying? Can I count on your vote for the contest? Should we organise a drink one night for all the bloggers/blog readers?

'Lost' Masterclass

I don't know about you but, personally, I gave up on 'Lost' about half way through the first series when I suddenly realised that they had no idea where they were going with the programme.

Then I caught a documentary/puff piece about the last season finale on Sky 1 and it looks like it's gone completely insane and got a hell of a lot more fun. It's even got time travel paradoxes which, as we all know, are my favourite kind of paradox. I might start watching again.

Anyway, if you're going to the Screenwriters' Festival (and, if not, why not?), there's an opportunity to take part in Masterclasses with Carlton Cuse, Damon Lindelof and the gloriously named Jack Bender (have fun at passport control, Jack!)

It's at BAFTA on 3rd July and the full details are here.

Continuing the juvenile giggling at peoples' names, did I always read the credits on Buffy correctly and the music was composed by a Thomas Wanker?

Ooh! I'm On Another Website!

As you may or may not know, I'm off to the Screenwriters' Festival in October.

On their very informative website, they're running a "Why I Write Where I Write" column.

And they've put my submission on it! OK, I also put it on here ages ago but if you never read it here, you can read it here.

As you can understand, I'm pretty swamped at the moment, but I'll get onto a proper post soon.

It will have flow charts.

Once I figure out how to do them.

Woo.

Meanwhile, Over At The Screenwriters' Festival Website...

...They're looking for photos and answers to the question "Where Do You Write?". Find the linkage here.

So if, like me, you want to pretend that you're doing a piece for "Writers' Rooms" in the Guardian, get yourself over there. Here's what I will be sending:

I write on the dining room table, simply because this is the only flat surface in our home that has not been consumed by the encroaching tide of family life.

My daughter likes to work alongside me. I use the phrase “likes to work”, but I actually mean “likes to pound the keyboard of her laptop with her tiny fists”.

As you can see, we have differing opinions on the writing essentials. I have my Blackberry, notebooks and a glass of wine close to hand, she has the Dora the Explorer annual, High School Musical kitchen roll and a Peppa Pig flask in easy reach.

Maybe, one day, I will have my own study where I can shut out the noise of the children playing and my partner’s laughter. Would my daily word count increase? Definitely. Would the quality of my writing improve? Possibly. Would it be as much fun? I’m not so sure.

Support Your Local Screenwriters' Festival

Margaret Thatcher famously survived on four hours sleep a night. Unlike her, I wasn’t sent to the planet Earth to destroy the human race, so I’m finding it harder to cope after a couple of late nights / early mornings.

Maybe future historians won’t judge her as harshly as we do now. “Maggie Thatcher: Not Evil. Just Needed A Nap.”

Anyway, the reason for my most recent late night was the 2009 Screenwriters' Festival launch shindig, held at the offices of Channel 4, where the great and the good of British screenwriting gathered to score some free wine.

After David Pearson, the festival’s grand fromage, welcomed us and the mighty Julian Fellowes provided some well-received randomness, David Thompson, producer of “Billy Elliot”, gave a fun talk touching on a range of topics from the difficulty of getting a film made to how a cat named Poppy nearly became the head of drama at the BBC (Insert your own bitter comment here).

Is it wrong that, when you have the producer of some of the most successful British films of the last twenty years stood in front of you, all you can think to ask is “You say you went to Charterhouse school. Did you get the opportunity to punch any members of Genesis in the face?”?

As one of the ten pitchers at the upcoming festival, I took a particular interest in David Pearson’s conversation with previous pitchers Simon Sayce and Elena Fuller and what has happened with their careers in the last six months. It was encouraging and terrifying in equal measure. I really must develop my idea more, rather than shrugging my shoulders and saying “I dunno,” when someone asks an intelligent question.

Olivia Hetreed (“Girl With A Pearl Earring”) then talked honestly about the sometimes uneasy relationship between the writer and director, which could be played out as a farce entitled “Whoops! Where’s My Per Diem?”

The highlight for me, though, was the bar afterwards where I ran into some people I hadn't seen in a while and got to meet fellow bloggers Stuart Perry, Phill Barron and David Lemon. Being new to the blogosphere, sometimes I wonder whether I’m gate-crashing a very nice party, but they are gentleman all. And it’s always great to see someone you recognise in three dimensions.

And that’s the beauty of the Screenwriters Festival, as far as I can see. Sometimes, tapping away at the MacBook, you start to worry that you’re some kind of delusional weirdo hermetically sealed from the rest of the world. Meeting and talking with other writers, you realise that you’re not. Or, at least, they don’t mind that you’re a delusional weirdo.

So, roll on October and the festival proper. Get your early bird ticket here. I’ll see you at the bar. Mine’s a Guinness.