As of 12 o'clock today, 28th March 2013, I can call myself a published writer. My first ever published piece of work, a film review of the Frenchiest of French films 'In the House' or 'Dans La Maison' for the more European among us, can be read here on the movie website 'The Hollywood News' which I now write for. http://www.thehollywoodnews.com/2013/03/28/in-the-house-review/
I apologise as I didn't talk about my trip to the screening, in a very plush little cinema near Charlotte Street in London. This very much constituted my criteria as a 'new thing' I tried, and it was my greatest success to date. After obtaining the email address of the editor of The Hollywood News from Matt Dennis, my friend and another writer for the website (further cementing the mantra of 'it's who you know') I wrote a sample piece and soon found myself invited to the screening. On arriving, slightly nervous and donning an embarrassingly large bag of uni books, the mini library I find myself carting round in this final semester, I was greeted by a cheery lady who ticked my name on a guestlist and invited me to enjoy a beer, a glass of wine and some posh crisps. Naturally being the discerning gentleman I am I chose the beer and commenced to enjoy the delights of being a VIP.
On entering the screening, past a heavy metal door which wouldn't have looked out of place at NASA I soon found myself enjoying the piece of high culture Film Festival beating movie which you can read about above. I found the whole experience one of the most enjoyable things I have ever done and the very fact that people do this for a living and get paid set in me the very same feeling I had when I was 9 and I read Stormbreaker by Anthony Horowitz and decided I wanted to write books. Yes it's difficult to make notes in a dark film theatre but I loved it, and I want to return next time dressed slightly better and not carrying my library with me. I have the attitude to things like getting into writing that 'if others can do it, so can I.'
I think it's an important point for any writer to learn early is that no writer merely writes in one style, in one means, and in particular, no writer writes occasionally. For example, no one just writes books. I'd dare anyone to find me an author these days who doesn't write articles, or keep a blog, or write poems on the side. It's just something you have to do to keep your hand in, and it's taken me quite a while to fully realise that. And it's good, because lets face it, writing's boring.
Shock horror I hear you say, but it is, if you just sit writing one thing forever you'll always get bored with it, same as if you watch 3 films for the rest of your life. There is nothing better than the thrill of completion and it's very hard to complete a novel, so why not aim smaller, there are so many freelance and free writing opportunities out there that people would be silly to pass them up.
And go do a degree! My god go do a degree. If you like to write go study English or Creative Writing or anything heavily essay based, or if your talents and interests lie in video production or similar, go study media or Film. These degrees, from a writing perspective do what all the little pieces of writing do, you keep your hand in. Yes you just wrote an essay on the Postmodern Condition in Kurt Vonnegut, or whether or not Kanzi the monkey can talk. Yes you'll never read them again, but you wrote it. You wrote it and got a good mark for it and it's almost the same as being published. It's that validation which says 'see those words you just wrote on that bit of paper? They're damn good, I'd like to see more of your words on bits of paper.' And for god's sake if you want to write read. Read lots, read anything. Read newspapers (The Times has really good writing in it) read magazines, read poems written on the inside of tube trains. And read books. Read every book you can get your hands on and if you do all that, look back on the things you wrote a year ago and you'll shock yourself with how bad you used to be and how good you are now.
So keep a blog, write poems, do a degree and just write. And talk about writing. The mantra of 'it's who you know' exists for a reason. For a calling in life which is quite solitary, through wonderful places like Twitter and Tumblr and creative commons websites like Ideastap and Figment, you can network with other writers and before you know it you can say 'it's who you know' in a disgruntled tone and then realise you know someone who could help. And then ask for help, because on the whole people are lovely and want to help. That's what I did and I'm not saying I've arrived because that'd be near sighted of me. But I have something I wrote, published on a website for the world to see. And one day I hope a lot more people read these too, because I write for people. My aim is for lots.
And do you want to know the real secret to success in writing and university? Earl Grey tea. The stuff's better than crack I swear.
Thursday 28 March 2013
Thursday 7 March 2013
Moneygrabbing Bastards! or 'David Tries Being Annoyed'
Moneygrabbing bastards!
Is a phrase I'd rather escaped my lips a lot less, but sometimes you can't help it. In the Times only this morning for example, I started to think about writing this blog, and then suddenly on page three (for in The Times, there is journalistic material on page three instead of Rhian's huge chesticles accompanied by a speech bubble containing Rhian's opinions on the middle east) ...I digress. On page three of The Times there were two examples of moneygrabbing.
First of all the Sherlock Holmes museum. Recently, the owner of the museum died, and its assets were to be divided between two people who worked there. The owner of the museum had trusted both of them and all of his staff and not run the museum as tightly and efficiently (in a financial sense) as they probably should have. But it doesn't matter right? Friends would never screw each other out of money. But low and behold, as the will gets examined, it turns out one of the two staff members had embezzled hundreds of thousands of pounds of profit from the little museum on 221B Baker Street. This saddened me more than anything.
Then directly under this heartwarming story lay a piece about how David Cameron's home constituency of Witney couldn't afford him to turn on their Christmas lights last year. They couldn't afford him because his security costs too much. If only we lived in a world where political figures aren't fatally targeted by a completely different sort of bastard, but unfortunately we do. Nevertheless, the security charge so much.
And who can blame them really? We have to get by in these troubled times - is a favourite phrase of television types nowadays. And I know, I'm one of those studenty people. The people of Pot Noodles and Sainsbury's basics. And that's what lead me to this tale of pennies and woe. I'm realising that this isn't the cheeriest of topics. However I aim to meet the needs of readers and I'm willing to bet only a small portion of readers in general don't think about problems like these on a regular basis.
The good people of student finance give me £2000 a semester, which is more than most people get I grant you, but I live in Richmond, the most expensive borough in the country. And I don't even live there all the time now. I'm forced to now trek home to north London after lectures every Thursday to save a bit of money. Or go to my girlfriend's house, which makes me very happy. But I live in 3 places. I'm constantly in a state of inbetweenness, my belongings scattered rather haphazardly across south-east England. I don't enjoy this feeling. I'm a person who likes everything in one place, tidy in a room so I can relax and do the large amount of work I have to do. I never get down about this because I appreciate what I have more than I can describe. A wonderful girlfriend with a wonderful family who accepts me. I write this sitting in their living room while Charlotte's at work. I've allowed myself a break because I wrote 2000 words of dissertation this morning! 4800 to go! And 1000 of my personal study yesterday. And my first two essays for this semester are done. I am exactly halfway through my last semester and this both scares and satisfies me.
I am decided now. I absolutely love uni, I love what I study and all my friends. But the best thing about brilliant friends and studying a masters in Children's Literature next year is I get to keep both those things despite the fact my degree is coming to an end. I want money, I want to be someone who can support himself and others. I want all my stuff in one place and I want to be able to get a chinese without bankrupting myself.
Which brings me back to my monetary requirements. Living in the most expensive borough in the country, I have to pay 4 rents a time out of this £2000 the government kindly lends me. That leaves me with £400. £400 for four months of living. Lets take bills out of that, that's another £100+ gone. So £300. Hold on I do English. I have a vast amount of books to buy because all libraries have become as money grabbing as the rest of the world. Places like Senate House - which holds every book I need - charges non University of London students £193 a year for membership. And you can't even go search among the books yourself! These books should be public domain, they should belong to each and every person in the country free of charge. That, is it not, the point of a library? But no, more money.
Ebooks! I hear you say! I say find me an ebook on the internet that doesn't have pages missing, asking you for a charge to buy the whole thing. I wish I wasn't so annoyed about this. I wish I wasn't using my blog meant to spread happiness to vent, but worry not. I'm getting to the positive bit. This is the most therapeutic thing I do. I'm so much better at articulating myself with my words. That's why I am certain I will make some sort of career with my writing. Determination isn't the word. With the right support and belief, I can do anything.
Basically the government wants me to get a job. I understand this, but I see injustice in that. The degree isn't enough these days. So many people come out of uni and can't use their degrees to get what they want. I don't see the fairness in asking a student such as me and thousands of others to write long extended pieces of work, putting their whole effort into them, and work as well. People say it prepares you for the real world, but I don't see people out of uni having to do uni work on top of jobs. But I don't mind, because that's the way of the world. You have to do things you don't like sometimes. But getting a job? Saying 'I do a degree' (in my experience) to an employer, is like saying 'please don't hire me I'm putting something else first.' But I'll carry on trying, and trying and trying until I either get something part time, or I get a proper job after my degree, which I'm now doing as well. What I hate most of all is when people act like I don't try, that I'm not doing everything in my power to do all this.
In my personal opinion, the government spends vast amounts of money on pointless things - I'm reminded of a story saying the government spend £300,000 a year on tea and biscuits for NHS staff and visitors. Now these people work hard, they need to be fed and kept happy, but a part of me screams injustice. Especially when I hear stories of my loved ones going to these people and being bounced around departments because no one can do their job properly. Maybe put down the Jammie Dodger and open Gray's Anatomy? (That's right, I watch Grey's Anatomy, and I love wordplay) And I ask maybe if more thought was put into government spending by these moneygrabbing bastards sitting at the top of the pyramid, maybe this country's money could be more evenly distributed.
Back to money. I want to do pleasurable things! I find myself under a lot of pressure because of all this on a regular basis. And lets mention for a second my 4 month struggle with Richmond council. Where I had to tell them again and again, giving bit after bit of proof to prove that me and my housemates are exempt from council tax. Every answer made them give me another demand. They were determined to charge someone for council tax. They're determined to squeeze someone for a few pennies. That is hopefully over now so one less stress.
And I want money to do nice things. I want books and DVDs and music and go nice places with my girlfriend, and sit and drink earl grey tea eating crisps with my friends and go to the pub with them. But I haven't got the money to do that. I'm studying Bob Dylan at the moment and I need his albums. But how much are they? £8.99 each some of them! I can't afford that! And that's a whole other story, why is music so expensive? Why are gigs so expensive? Why are Kindle books, which have no production value whatsoever, the same price as print books? Do they want me to illegally download? I quite like the fact that I buy all my music. I like to give people money when they make something that I like and want in my life, but when they start charging the earth for 12 songs I start wondering do I owe them that? I wonder where all this money goes. The pessimist in me says 'someone's pocket.'
Now, this blog has been depressing, and I apologise sincerely, but I hope at the very least if you are in a similar position to me I've helped you in the way that you're not alone. But I'm reached the good bit.
People are good, people are funny and lovely and free. I'm not saying throw off the shackles of materialism, because Shakeaway's also lovely and nice, but Shakeaways are expensive. So when this all gets to me I think of all the lovely things I experience because of people. My lovely friends, my lovely family and my lovely girlfriend. I am supported and I have a smile on my face despite all this monetary strife. I don't treat anyone badly and the good times are coming. The good times are already here. Just know (and I know some people are far worse off than me) but just know that one day you'll be able to walk into a Shakeaway and buy a 'Steve' or a 'Rupert' or a 'Clive' and reap the benefits of your hard work, of the uni work you do, or the non-uni work, the hard work out there in the world. There are always good things which balance out all the crap.
I'm thinking of starting to write down all the little nice things that happen to me and putting them in a jar and then every now and again upending the jar and let the smiles arrive.
The morals of this blog:
1) Work during your gap year
2) Do not under any circumstances read newspapers. They have the news and you look jolly-well intelligent but they are the nation's doombringer. Buy an OK magazine, buy the Sun and find out what Rhian's said today and watch the X Factor. Sit with someone you love or like a bloomin great deal and watch a film or go out and have a nice walk somewhere. Sit by yourself and write a blog or a poem or a novel or a screenplay or a list of some nice things. Listen to your favourite song. Do whatever makes you happy. Don't let the moneygrabbing bastards get you down.
Good luck.
Is a phrase I'd rather escaped my lips a lot less, but sometimes you can't help it. In the Times only this morning for example, I started to think about writing this blog, and then suddenly on page three (for in The Times, there is journalistic material on page three instead of Rhian's huge chesticles accompanied by a speech bubble containing Rhian's opinions on the middle east) ...I digress. On page three of The Times there were two examples of moneygrabbing.
First of all the Sherlock Holmes museum. Recently, the owner of the museum died, and its assets were to be divided between two people who worked there. The owner of the museum had trusted both of them and all of his staff and not run the museum as tightly and efficiently (in a financial sense) as they probably should have. But it doesn't matter right? Friends would never screw each other out of money. But low and behold, as the will gets examined, it turns out one of the two staff members had embezzled hundreds of thousands of pounds of profit from the little museum on 221B Baker Street. This saddened me more than anything.
Then directly under this heartwarming story lay a piece about how David Cameron's home constituency of Witney couldn't afford him to turn on their Christmas lights last year. They couldn't afford him because his security costs too much. If only we lived in a world where political figures aren't fatally targeted by a completely different sort of bastard, but unfortunately we do. Nevertheless, the security charge so much.
And who can blame them really? We have to get by in these troubled times - is a favourite phrase of television types nowadays. And I know, I'm one of those studenty people. The people of Pot Noodles and Sainsbury's basics. And that's what lead me to this tale of pennies and woe. I'm realising that this isn't the cheeriest of topics. However I aim to meet the needs of readers and I'm willing to bet only a small portion of readers in general don't think about problems like these on a regular basis.
The good people of student finance give me £2000 a semester, which is more than most people get I grant you, but I live in Richmond, the most expensive borough in the country. And I don't even live there all the time now. I'm forced to now trek home to north London after lectures every Thursday to save a bit of money. Or go to my girlfriend's house, which makes me very happy. But I live in 3 places. I'm constantly in a state of inbetweenness, my belongings scattered rather haphazardly across south-east England. I don't enjoy this feeling. I'm a person who likes everything in one place, tidy in a room so I can relax and do the large amount of work I have to do. I never get down about this because I appreciate what I have more than I can describe. A wonderful girlfriend with a wonderful family who accepts me. I write this sitting in their living room while Charlotte's at work. I've allowed myself a break because I wrote 2000 words of dissertation this morning! 4800 to go! And 1000 of my personal study yesterday. And my first two essays for this semester are done. I am exactly halfway through my last semester and this both scares and satisfies me.
I am decided now. I absolutely love uni, I love what I study and all my friends. But the best thing about brilliant friends and studying a masters in Children's Literature next year is I get to keep both those things despite the fact my degree is coming to an end. I want money, I want to be someone who can support himself and others. I want all my stuff in one place and I want to be able to get a chinese without bankrupting myself.
Which brings me back to my monetary requirements. Living in the most expensive borough in the country, I have to pay 4 rents a time out of this £2000 the government kindly lends me. That leaves me with £400. £400 for four months of living. Lets take bills out of that, that's another £100+ gone. So £300. Hold on I do English. I have a vast amount of books to buy because all libraries have become as money grabbing as the rest of the world. Places like Senate House - which holds every book I need - charges non University of London students £193 a year for membership. And you can't even go search among the books yourself! These books should be public domain, they should belong to each and every person in the country free of charge. That, is it not, the point of a library? But no, more money.
Ebooks! I hear you say! I say find me an ebook on the internet that doesn't have pages missing, asking you for a charge to buy the whole thing. I wish I wasn't so annoyed about this. I wish I wasn't using my blog meant to spread happiness to vent, but worry not. I'm getting to the positive bit. This is the most therapeutic thing I do. I'm so much better at articulating myself with my words. That's why I am certain I will make some sort of career with my writing. Determination isn't the word. With the right support and belief, I can do anything.
Basically the government wants me to get a job. I understand this, but I see injustice in that. The degree isn't enough these days. So many people come out of uni and can't use their degrees to get what they want. I don't see the fairness in asking a student such as me and thousands of others to write long extended pieces of work, putting their whole effort into them, and work as well. People say it prepares you for the real world, but I don't see people out of uni having to do uni work on top of jobs. But I don't mind, because that's the way of the world. You have to do things you don't like sometimes. But getting a job? Saying 'I do a degree' (in my experience) to an employer, is like saying 'please don't hire me I'm putting something else first.' But I'll carry on trying, and trying and trying until I either get something part time, or I get a proper job after my degree, which I'm now doing as well. What I hate most of all is when people act like I don't try, that I'm not doing everything in my power to do all this.
In my personal opinion, the government spends vast amounts of money on pointless things - I'm reminded of a story saying the government spend £300,000 a year on tea and biscuits for NHS staff and visitors. Now these people work hard, they need to be fed and kept happy, but a part of me screams injustice. Especially when I hear stories of my loved ones going to these people and being bounced around departments because no one can do their job properly. Maybe put down the Jammie Dodger and open Gray's Anatomy? (That's right, I watch Grey's Anatomy, and I love wordplay) And I ask maybe if more thought was put into government spending by these moneygrabbing bastards sitting at the top of the pyramid, maybe this country's money could be more evenly distributed.
Back to money. I want to do pleasurable things! I find myself under a lot of pressure because of all this on a regular basis. And lets mention for a second my 4 month struggle with Richmond council. Where I had to tell them again and again, giving bit after bit of proof to prove that me and my housemates are exempt from council tax. Every answer made them give me another demand. They were determined to charge someone for council tax. They're determined to squeeze someone for a few pennies. That is hopefully over now so one less stress.
And I want money to do nice things. I want books and DVDs and music and go nice places with my girlfriend, and sit and drink earl grey tea eating crisps with my friends and go to the pub with them. But I haven't got the money to do that. I'm studying Bob Dylan at the moment and I need his albums. But how much are they? £8.99 each some of them! I can't afford that! And that's a whole other story, why is music so expensive? Why are gigs so expensive? Why are Kindle books, which have no production value whatsoever, the same price as print books? Do they want me to illegally download? I quite like the fact that I buy all my music. I like to give people money when they make something that I like and want in my life, but when they start charging the earth for 12 songs I start wondering do I owe them that? I wonder where all this money goes. The pessimist in me says 'someone's pocket.'
Now, this blog has been depressing, and I apologise sincerely, but I hope at the very least if you are in a similar position to me I've helped you in the way that you're not alone. But I'm reached the good bit.
People are good, people are funny and lovely and free. I'm not saying throw off the shackles of materialism, because Shakeaway's also lovely and nice, but Shakeaways are expensive. So when this all gets to me I think of all the lovely things I experience because of people. My lovely friends, my lovely family and my lovely girlfriend. I am supported and I have a smile on my face despite all this monetary strife. I don't treat anyone badly and the good times are coming. The good times are already here. Just know (and I know some people are far worse off than me) but just know that one day you'll be able to walk into a Shakeaway and buy a 'Steve' or a 'Rupert' or a 'Clive' and reap the benefits of your hard work, of the uni work you do, or the non-uni work, the hard work out there in the world. There are always good things which balance out all the crap.
I'm thinking of starting to write down all the little nice things that happen to me and putting them in a jar and then every now and again upending the jar and let the smiles arrive.
The morals of this blog:
1) Work during your gap year
2) Do not under any circumstances read newspapers. They have the news and you look jolly-well intelligent but they are the nation's doombringer. Buy an OK magazine, buy the Sun and find out what Rhian's said today and watch the X Factor. Sit with someone you love or like a bloomin great deal and watch a film or go out and have a nice walk somewhere. Sit by yourself and write a blog or a poem or a novel or a screenplay or a list of some nice things. Listen to your favourite song. Do whatever makes you happy. Don't let the moneygrabbing bastards get you down.
Good luck.
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