shredded wheat

Trent Reznor: the 'dweeb outsider' who has found his niche

2010-10-26T12:41:00.001+01:00

Trent Reznor has been called the ‘dweeb outsider’ by director David Fincher, who also reveals that the Nine Inch Nails’ frontman was the only musician he wished to collaborate with on the soundtrack to his critically acclaimed film The Social Network.

He says that the synthesizer sound was the perfect instrument for the world of the internet. “I thought the only guy I knew who could take the hum of it, the drone of it, the pneumatics and the booting up – all this stuff with these weird sounds and also understand the horniness of being the dweeb outsider was Trent.”

When Fincher called him up Reznor’s first reply was ‘no thanks’, the director reveals. “I thinks he was exhausted at that moment in time and I think he felt that he was going to have to drive the thing somehow – and I think when he saw the sequences he sort of thought ‘wow, I just need to interpret what the envelope is for this sonically’.”

Reznor was in the process of winding up Nine Inch Nails and already had other projects in the pipeline such as a TV mini-series named Year Zero for HBO, based on Nine Inch Nails' 2007 album of the same name.

He is also putting together a new group, How To Destroy Angels, with his wife Mariqueen Maandig and releasing an album early next year.

Talking about working with Fincher, Reznor says: “When I actually read the script and knowing David was involved - and David brings a level of excellence to what he’s interested in and what he works on - I knew this wasn’t going to be what I feared it could be in lesser hands. [And it became]: How can I help change people’s preconceived notions of what a Facebook movie is — the same feeling I myself had when I first heard of it …. It’s not about Facebook, so much. It’s about people and greed and creation and entitlement. It’s not about how people use Facebook, necessarily.”

On the process of scoring his first full-length movie, Reznor says: “I wanted to make it something that inched up the drama a little bit. And darkened the mood. Because I think there’s a great sense of betrayal and greed that runs through this film that I kind of wanted to play up.”

Pretty much from the beginning Reznor, well, nailed it. “I went off into my laboratory for a few weeks with Atticus [Ross], my conspirator, and just generated a bunch of sketches … Somehow we got it right almost the first time. [David] didn’t have a constructive criticism because he was blown away in trying some of these out in different scenes. I would like to say it was genius, but it was probably luck.”

Reznor’s dark, edgy score is perfect for a film that will be viewed as defining a generation. It’s a modern day tale of greed, inspiration, friendship and envy - played out to a rich, operatic soundtrack composed on the synthesizer.

As well as cementing his reputation as a film composer, Reznor is also working on a remastered version of Nine Inch Nails’ 1989 debut album Pretty Hate Machine, which is slated for release next month.

He is also not afraid to experiment with social media and has been at the forefront of the digital revolution, notably by putting up albums on torrent sites (Ghosts) and releasing the soundtrack for The Social Network through Amazon Deals programme.

Twenty-one years after he gave us his first sonic experience, Reznor continues to inspire and create; love him or loathe him you certainly can’t ignore his enigmatic presence in our world today.

Untitled

2010-10-25T06:59:00.001+01:00

Lies, paranoia and jealousy on the internet's social networks inspire Hollywood

'From the Facebook film to movies about internet predators and treachery among friends, cinema is waking up to the importance of this new aspect of many people's lives'

Here's a link to the above story from Sunday's Observer.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/2010/oct/24/easya-social-network-chatroom-catfish

My screenplay deals with this exact subject, I'm currently seeking funding, have a producer and director involved, but open to offers and collaboration etc.

"This new appetite for using the internet as a plot device is clearly a response to the growing significance of social networking sites."

I'm on the money with this.

email: tony.myers@me.com

This life

2010-10-25T06:48:00.002+01:00

Date: 25 October 2010 06:14
Topic: This life
Awake. It’s 6am and I’m in York, at my parents’ with my children, in my old bedroom in a traditional two-up two down terrace house near to the station.

This is the house I grew up in and was desperate to leave from aged 16. I got out and against all the odds and being equipped with only a secondary education managed to make something of myself. It was hard, but there are many more people I know whose childhood was much worse than mine. We were poor, but at least there was some kind of loving, and it’s only by coming a parent that I realise the problems my mum and dad went through. I gave them a hard time, but t could have turned out much worse, in the end they are proud of me and I of them.

Back in York this weekend I went to a reunion, loosely based on the music scene in the city in the 80s for all those that hung out at the Roxy nightclub. The evening was a reminder of why I had to leave and do something with my life. At the time there were a lot of Goths, I was never a Goth and I didn’t really identify with many of the musicians, we were more indie/punks.

The reunion was full of ageing Goths and a mx of the weird and wonderful that made it a very vibrant scene back in the 80s. It was good to catch up, there were some genuinely interesting and good people that I enjoyed chatting to. Many were still locked in their own little worlds, some still chasing the dream and you could tell they hadn’t travelled far - spiritually, emotionally, creatively.

I had this theory that York with its walls and narrow streets is almost like a prison, it locks you in. It’s a lovely city, a great place to live - lots going on so why leave? I am immensely proud of where I come but i always possessed a knowledge that to make something of my life I had to leave my hometown - take a risk, the same way as Joyce and Beckett had to leave Dublin.

I am now on the verge of taking another risk with my life, I really don’t know how it will turn out, but coming back home gives me strength because I remember the times when I had nothing and there really was nothing to lose. These days my circumstances are different, I have children, responsibilities, and I wonder if in my own way I am still chasing a dream?

Can I ever change anything, would it be better if I had stayed in York led a quiet life, being content with my lot? People I met the other night appeared content - was that through ignorance or choice?

I don’t know, I can only speak for myself on this matter. I have made this life and this life has made me, it’s the only one I’ve got so I better make the best of it.

There is a reason

2010-10-18T10:40:00.001+01:00

Date: 15 October 2010 08:56
Topic: There is a reason

Well, yesterday I resigned from the Guardian. I have accepted the redundancy offer, which is quite generous, but begs the question what am I going to do with the rest of my life?

Working as an editor on the Guardian was a lifetime achievement, but for many reasons I was never truly happy. My life has been full of challenges, I have taken risks before and it has always worked out. The challenge now is to survive, not blow all the redundancy money, be a reliable and good father to my lovely children.

When I leave there will be a period of flux, things are not going to be as they were, but it’s been a pretty shitty year so I had to change something. Where I am going to live? I don’t know. What am I going to do? I don’t know? Exciting and scary and I shall have to rely on my intuition to see me through.

I leave my flat in January and will go to California for a few weeks, that much is certain. I need to refresh, recharge and find a new perspective.

Journalism will see me through, I have no doubt I will find freelance work and am already building contacts to get some work lined up for next year. There maybe a couple of permanent job opportunities, which would bring security - but do I really want that? Why leave the Guardian?

My screenplay is where I am focussing my energies at the moment and could be something that points to a new career, a new direction. I am re-drafting for a micro-budget, it is going incredibly well and there is funding available in November of up to £100k. I am working hard on getting a proposal together. I have a producer to help me with a budget, I have a director, have a named actor in mind whom I can get the script to when it is ready.

Should I be successful with obtaining funding then I shall pay myself a reasonable amount for my work and next year will be focussed on getting the film produced.

That’s the plan anywhere.

Keep calm and carry on.

There is a reason

2010-10-15T08:56:00.000+01:00

Well, yesterday I resigned from the Guardian. I have accepted the redundancy offer, which is quite generous, but begs the question what am I going to do with the rest of my life?

Working as an editor on the Guardian was a lifetime achievement, but for many reasons I was never truly happy. My life has been full of challenges, I have taken risks before and it has always worked out. The challenge now is to survive, not blow all the redundancy money, be a reliable and good father to my lovely children.

When I leave there will be a period of flux, things are not going to be as they were, but it’s been a pretty shitty year so I had to change something. Where I am going to live? I don’t know. What am I going to do? I don’t know? Exciting and scary and I shall have to rely on my intuition to see me through.

I leave my flat in January and will go to California for a few weeks, that much is certain. I need to refresh, recharge and find a new perspective.

Journalism will see me through, I have no doubt I will find freelance work and am already building contacts to get some work lined up for next year. There maybe a couple of permanent job opportunities, which would bring security - but do I really want that? Why leave the Guardian?

My screenplay is where I am focussing my energies at the moment and could be something that points to a new career, a new direction. I am re-drafting for a micro-budget, it is going incredibly well and there is funding available in November of up to £100k. I am working hard on getting a proposal together. I have a producer to help me with a budget, I have a director, have a named actor in mind whom I can get the script to when it is ready.

Should I be successful with obtaining funding then I shall pay myself a reasonable amount for my work and next year will be focussed on getting the film produced.

That’s the plan anywhere.

Keep calm and carry on.

Calling Card

2010-08-17T07:52:00.002+01:00

Arrived back in London last night after two weeks holiday with my children. It felt strange to be back in the flat - seems there’s more space here than in the former marital home. My ex was in Amercia on some kind of shamanic quest. As mentioned previously money is tight but I took the kids camping, and for the rest of the time we hung out in the house, played cricket in the park, frsibee etc - went to the cinema, went on walks etc, simple pleasures and my children didn’t seem to mind. My daughter was invited to various sleepovers - and both her and my son and friends for sleepovers. Even cooked pancakes one day - and baked a crumble made from berries picked in the garden.

I thought/wanted to bring them to London for a few days but in the end I simply couldn’t afford it. London costs big time and they would have ended up in the flat in front of the tv or computer most of the time, so we stayed in the west country, enjoyed the fresh air.

Been back in the house was claustrophobic, it’s tiny for one and little privacy, but at ages 12 and 10 my kids are are gaining semi autonomy and are happy to go off an play with friends, which suits me as I got time to write- or read. I also kept up my yoga practice, abstained from coffee for a full fortnight - and still have not touched alcohol.

I have promised them if I make some extra money I will take them away, maybe later this year - certainly next year.

I also got an iPhone4, couldn’t afford one - but can I afford not to have one? Can sync all data with my Macboook Pro - I even have a screenwriting app for it, so it made sense. I need to be organised with contacts etc and it seemed the best solution - especially as my old crappy phone died on me.

So I am back at work today; I have a fairly easy week but really concentrating on the ‘business’ side of my first screenplay, provisionally called CROCODILE EYE. I have a meeting with a developer as part of a National Film and Television programme - have sent it to a couple of actors to read and for feedback so must chase their comments. My screenplay is a manageable 81 pages at the moment so space to develop plot and characters, the structure may also need some work. It felt good to take a break from it, I must now concentrate all my efforts on selling/producing it as it may well be my calling card into the industry.

My new screenplay seems much easier to write, mainly because I took time to work on a structure, I am 12 pages in and the process has been incredibly easy. Having a structure as allowed me to concentrate on the characters and dialogue.

It has been a happy exercise in escapism so far as I am totally in the story and it’s a joy to return to it.

Apart from coffee there is nothing in the flat so I must source breakfast from outside - ie the staff canteen so going to go to work early. I am looking forward to cycling across London and picking up the vibe of the city again after my little west country sojourn.

Old Man and the Wood

2010-08-08T09:32:00.001+01:00

My children are my inspiration. I am separated from their mother so time with them is precious. I have a girl and a boy, 12 and 10 respectively and they are wonderful, I am so proud how they have adapted to the new circumstances, they are bright, funny, creative and energetic. It helps that the marriage break up was amicable and I am still on friendly terms with their mother, despite our differences. I write this from the family home, she is away and is letting me stay here with them - I have also given up my flat in London for her when she needed it for a weekend. It’s that kind of relationship and not many couples are fortunate to have that understanding after a break up. When I have my children (every other weekend, as they live quite far from London) we have fun and stimulating times exploring London, going to galleries and exhibitions or simply hanging out. I enjoy showing them another world, different to their small market town in deepest Hampshire.

Last week we went camping together in Wareham Forest, Dorset. Like many families budgets are tight this year and it was all I could afford. No matter, we have been camping together for the last three years since the separation and always enjoy it. This time was a bit different. We stayed on a campsite with not much for entertainment apart from an outside heated outside pool. There were of course lots of walks to be had, bike trails etc (we didn’t take bikes) and we actually camped in the woods. The campsite was peaceful. It was a relief to be out of contact with the world for a few days - I switched my phone off, and of course left my Macbook at home so no emails, Facebook updates or twitter. The children were equally bereft of TV, computer, PSPs etc for four days - although my daughter kept her mobile with her at all times.

It was just the three of us and a pack of cards, cricket set, boules and a frisbee. These past four days were a simple joy. We spent time in the pool and indulging in all the above activities, hot chocolates at 10pm, stories, reading in the tent and lights out. We swam together and went on walks, I cooked dinner every night on the cooker - and because they are now at an age where they are more independent the children could go off and do their own thing without me; giving me some time to recharge.

I work as a journalist in London so quite a demanding job and it’s easy to suffer from information overload. I have also written one screenplay, which is in development and my time is constantly spent emailing pitches, obtaining feedback, editing, rewriting, reading screenplays etc etc.

On holiday I only took one book ( I usually have several on the go at once) Boredom by Alberto Moravia, an author I greatly admire, and a notebook. I also took the decision to not drink alcohol or coffee during this time - it is now over a week since I have imbibed either and I feel so much more energised. I drank organic tea while away and continued my yoga practice.

What happened next came as a surprise as while been fully engaged with my children over these four days away I came back with an outline for a new 90-page screenplay. The creative process was as such: I would wake early sit outside the tent with a brew for an hour or so alone with my thoughts and slowly and unforced ideas would come - characters, plot, scenarios etc. I should confess that the original story is an idea I already had wrote a mishmash of 90,000 a few years ago. Using this as my research I would slowly sketch out a structure, either sat by the pool while the children swam or simply snatching quiet moments. I didn’t force anything, sometimes I would read my book. The process was slow, at times I felt like Santiago in Hemingway’s Old Man and the Sea, each day he goes fishing, even though he knows the likelihood of bringing in a catch is remote. He endeavours for something like 80 days (I forget) before he is rewarded, but even then his victory turns into a defeat of sorts as he has to wrestle with a giant Marlin and then when he kills it the fish is devoured by sharks.

Unlike Santiago I did not have to wrestle with my catch, ideas flowed naturally, sure I had blocks, felt like abandoning the idea thinking it was a waste of time, but in my own silent way I persevered with it and slowly the plot, characters, structure fell into place - I came back with a beginning middle and end of an original screenplay that I feel excited about.

Been around my children without doubt helped the process, but what I discovered is to the best way to work is simply go away, get out of your usual environment, keep it simple, have no expectations, avoid all distractions such as phone and emails etc and listen to your subconscious. After all writing is really thinking, and if you don’t catch anything this time maybe next time, or the next, like Santiago if you have to keep trying, it those that give up who ultimately come away with absolutely nothing.

Coffee and alcohol are optional; for me I felt like cleansing my body and mind. Both drugs have played a part in my creativity before, what I discovered is that they weren't essential to the process and I do feel so much better, clearer, sharper, I am also sleeping longer and deeper. I have my children for another week, and while back in the modern world I am continuing the vibe of writing when I can but my main priority is and always will be them: because without them I am nothing.

Antibes Juan-les-Pins

2009-10-22T16:18:00.012+01:00

Antibes Juan-les-Pins has been attracting writers, poets and artists for well over a century. Its original Greek name was 'anti polis' – the city opposite – in reference to its location across the bay from Nice.

Today, it is more likely to be called a city of opposites because old Antibes was a favoured hangout and source of inspiration for creative types. They came for its stunning natural light, ancient ramparts and buildings, the tranquillity of its pine groves and beaches, and because it was also a place where one could live on modest means if one were really struggling.

The flip side of this dichotomy is that Antibes also enjoys an equally keen reputation as a summer playground for the rich and famous. Juan-les-Pins, with its exclusive beach restaurants, designer shops and high-maintenance clientele, has more in common with its glamorous neighbour Cannes, which it faces across the water, as if turning its back on the hoi polloi on the port side.

I was in Antibes on a budget weekend to check out the new Picasso exhibition at the renovated Musée Picasso in the old town and to discover part of the city's exotic allure that had attracted so many artists and bohemians in the past.

When the artists started coming here at the beginning of the last century, Juan-les-Pins was a small fishing hamlet, perfect for setting up your easel on the beach or renting a cheap cottage as a retreat to write in. In the early days French writers George Sand, Gustave Flaubert, Guy de Maupassant and Jules Verne were regular visitors as were the artists Claude Monet, Raoul Dufy and Eugène Boudin.

Then came the luxury hotels and a casino attracting high-rollers such as Ernest Hemingway and F Scott Fitzgerald who found their own sanctuary in newly built villas owned by wealthy Americans and British expats on the Cap d'Antibes.

These days most of the pine trees have disappeared and Juan-le-Pins is the kind of place where you don’t just get burned by the sun. If you are not careful this place will seriously leach your euros – a beer and a coffee in one of the fancy terrace cafes cost me €11.40 as I sat and watched a procession of pampered pooches with their owners promenading along the seafront on a Sunday afternoon.

Even in the best of times this part of the world can be ridiculously expensive, and economically at least we are in the worst of times – so I quickly decided this was certainly not the time or place to act the playboy.

To save cash I had taken the bus from Nice airport (fare €1, the number 200 to Cannes) instead of a taxi which would have cost me at least €50 one way. Easyjet fly direct to Nice from Gatwick for as little as £33 one way.

The bus service is very reliable and roughly every half hour and will drop you in the centre of Antibes. The journey takes about about 40 minutes and also runs on Sundays.

Hotel La Jabotte is both affordable and close to the beach and within walking distance of old Antibes. Last year it was featured in the Guardian's Top 10 European seaside hotels. [e]

Out of season you can get a room for €64 a night. Each room has been individually decorated Provençal-style and open onto an inner courtyard with orange trees where breakfast and evening cocktails are served in the summer. The hotel also displays local artists' work throughout the year.

Juan-les-Pins and Le Vieil Antibes are connected by Boulevard du President Wilson. It’s a 30-minute walk between the two areas and it is in the old town of Antibes where I find what I am looking for. On this side of the city you get the impression that people work for their money rather than have the money working for them. It’s no less affluent of course, just less pretentious.

During his stay in Antibes, Picasso worked in a studio in the chateaux Grimaldi, which had become the city's archaeological museum. It occupies a site high above the old town overlooking the Mediterranean, perfectly suited for Picasso, who drew on the city’s rich Greco-Roman past and the influence of the sea for a series of new paintings that he donated to the museum.

The city was so thrilled by his gift it renamed the chateaux Musée Picasso. Over 23 paintings and 44 drawings can still be seen in the spot where they were originally created, along with a permanent exhibition of other works of modern art. Entrance to the museum is €6, free for U-18s. There are bilingual talks and workshops running during the summer.

Chateaux Grimaldi and the little cathedral next to it dominates the old quarter, where a maze of cobbled streets wind their way down to the harbour. Here there are no chic holiday flats overlooking the Mediterranean, but apartments clustered together within the city walls, their balconies precariously poking out to sea and framed by pastel-coloured shutters.

This quarter felt lived in; in any one of the cafes or restaurants in the market square you are as likely to find yourself sitting next to a fisherman or boat repairer, or indeed artist, as you are a tourist or member of the bourgeoisie.

The Provençal market is open every morning and is where the locals buy their fresh produce. To save money I bought lunch there – tomatoes, a fresh baguette, pate, cheese, ham and fruit – for a few euros and went to the sandy Salis Beach near my hotel. This is a public beach and used by working families. It’s clean and well maintained and has showers dotted along the shoreline.

Skim your eyes across the intense blue of the sea and in the distance, beyond Nice, you can see the white tops of the Alps. The hotel provided beach towels, and I spent a pleasant afternoon, reading, musing and writing.

JG Ballard, author of Super Cannes 2000 among other works, was a frequent visitor to these shores as were many other writers, most famously Graham Greene, who wrote several novels during the time he lived in Antibes from 1966 to 1990, including Travels with My Aunt and the Honorary Consul. Many of his books were set in Antibes itself such as Chagrin in Three Parts, in which he writes about one of his favourite haunts, Cafe Felix.

The cafe is still there today, occupying a prime spot by a gate in the old ramparts, with a view of the harbour. What makes Cafe Felix interesting is the sense that it has not changed since the afternoon Greene strolled in and ordered his last dry martini.

The interior was dark panelled and still reeked of cigarette smoke; despite its location the place was empty when I visited and the patron who, when I asked if he remembered Monsieur Greene replied with a blunt 'oui' ,watches you like a hawk from just inside the doorway. A local told me that he is reluctant to sell the premises, hardly opens it for business and has no interest in trading off Greene's name.

Greene lived in a non-de script apartment block on Avenue Pasteur in the centre of town. There is a plaque dedicated to him by the entrance to the building and that's it; gone and almost forgotten.

Around the corner from Cafe Felix is Heidi's Bookshop, one of the largest independent English language bookshops in Europe. There has always been a strong British contingent in Antibes, many of the expats work on the boats. Unfortunately its second-hand prices are not very competitive and new titles cost five or six pounds more than in the UK.

Another way to spend a pleasant couple of hours and discover more of Antibes without spending money is to follow the Painters' Trail across town. Reproductions of nine paintings have been framed and placed in the exact spot from where the artist painted the scene.

On the trail you will see work by Monet, Picasso and Raymond Peynet, a famous French illustrator who lived in Antibes and like Picasso has a museum named after him. For the princely sum of €3 it is well worth a visit if only to get another perspective on this culturally rich and beautiful maritime city.

No trip to Antibes is complete without a visit to its unique absinthe bar, the Balade en Provence, which also doubles as a 'museum', although 'shrine to the green fairy' is perhaps a better description.

The purveyor of this long-forbidden drink that has inspired artists to seek a new perspective for their work is Frederic Rosenfelder, who runs the bar, cum, museum, cum shop with his son Daniel. Access to the absinthe bar is either through the shop or a side door in the city's original Roman walls. As well as a fine collection of water fountains and other absinthe memorabilia, the Rosenfelders have an eclectic mix of hats that drinkers can try on while taking the wicked water.

Frederic is a goldmine of information on the history of the drink and its customs.
Absinthe was prohibited in France in 1915 but was legalised in 2000 and is now enjoying a renaissance. He revells in the pleasure it brings his customers and encouraged me to sample the libertine at 76% proof, but there were more hardcore absinthe on its well-stocked shelves.

Dinner was the classic moules frites and a couple of beers for a reasonable €15 in a cafe by the market square.

The Provence night sky twinkled above the illuminated medieval buildings and evoked images of a Van Gogh painting. Old Antibes wears its jewels with style and dignity and this sophistication is captured in the joie de vivre of its nightlife.

The bars, cafes and restaurants are just as likely to be frequented with locals as tourists. Although the scene is lively there is a certain decorum that everyone adheres to and one that you just don't find in English seaside towns.

After lamenting the weakness of sterling in Antibes' bars, the following morning I set off for a walk around the Cap d'Antibes to clear my head and fill my lungs with a blast of sea air. When Monet came to paint here he wrote: “It's so beautiful here, so clear, so bright! You swim in the blue air it's terrifying.”

For one euro the bus will take you to the beach at Plage De La Garoupe, where the coastal path starts or you can walk along the Boulevard de Bacon and stop and admire the view that so enraptured Monet – and see the painting he made of it.

I was heading to the famous Hotel Eden Roc, where F Scott Fitzgerald, his wife Zelda and Hemingway used to whoop it up in the 1920s and where suites cost €900 a night.

The coastal path is a gentle climb through wild jasmine bushes along a steep rock face. There is a safety barrier for most of the walk and the views of Antibes' marine and mineral world under the early summer sun are both resplendent and invigorating. After walking for 50 minutes I had reached the tip, the coastal path carries on all the way around to Juan-les-Pins, but I had a flight to catch.

The private fragrant pine grove of Hotel Eden Roc and the path down to the beach that Fitzgerald wrote about in Tender is the Night would have to wait for another day, as would the heated sea water swimming pool and the chauffeur driven Mercedes S Class to whisk me to Nice airport.

I was going back to get the bus and as I walked through the the middle of the Cap d' Antibes, along Boulevard John Fitzgerald Kennedy and its magnificent mansions and villas, I too felt spoilt because Antibes is that kind of place; it gives and it takes.

I was envious not of the rich and their villas and fancy hotels but of the artists and writers that came here and found inspiration for their work and also the ordinary folk that make their living here.

There is a plaque in Place du Saffrainer inside the old town that reads: “I fear nothing, I want nothing, I am free”. The words come from Nikos Kazantakis, author of Zorba The Greek and the The Last Temptation of Christ. He also lived nearby.

Beautiful Losers

2009-10-12T15:40:00.004+01:00

Beautiful Losers (Revolver Entertainment)

Trailer

The film starts in New York City in the early 1990s, before mayor Rudy Giuliani's reign and the city's zero-tolerance campaign. The streets are mean. Cop cars burn on the corners and riots and murders are a regular occurrence.

Against this daily dose of civil unrest a disparate bunch of young skateboarders, surfers, punks, hip-hop and graffiti artist descend on the city. One of them, Aaron Rose (also the director of Beautiful Losers), rents a derelict storefront in the then rough and ready Lower East Side of the city, calls it Alleged Gallery and begins curating shows and parties from the premises.

Artists, musicians and writers meet up, swap ideas put on joint art exhibitions, making the venue a hip place to hang out. As Rose says, 'the only goal was to have fun and share stuff with our friends'.

Beautiful Losers is about growing up and finding an identity, and at the same time transforming a subculture without losing its non-conformist ethos.

It focuses on eleven artists and the underground scene in New York at that time. The artists featured are the epitome of geek-cool, a quirky group driven by freedom and innovation.

They are do-it-yourself artists with little or no formal training or influence from the establishment. They appear as happy spray painting walls and subways or decorating skateboards as putting on more 'formal' exhibitions.

Slowly, their reputation spreads and their work now permeates the mainstream as personal stories are interwoven, relationship are formed, some lasting, and there is also a tragic end to one supremely talented artist, Margaret Kilgallen.

Many of the artists went on to huge commercial success, designing album covers, film credits, fashion and making TV adverts for Pepsi and Volkswagen.

They didn't become beautiful sellouts. The film is above all a testament to their friendship, which is as strong as ever. Although set in the arts scene you don't have to be an artist to understand this film, it is surprisingly unpretentious and full of warmth and character, and is guaranteed to inspire.

The film is shot on digital in that edgy hand-held way with a ripping score by sometime Beastie Boy Money Mark. The film is also cut with archive footage of the young artists when the city was theirs for the taking.

Beautiful Losers is out on DVD after a short run in cinemas

My friends, my children, my art

2007-03-14T17:43:00.001Z

It's been quite a while since my last post, and I'm not sure of the reason why because i enjoy writing this blog. I think i hit a bit of a trough creatively - and work has been monumental of late, sucking up whatever energy I have.

Anyway, I have been inspired by friends Al and Olly who have given me encouragement -and also Pete Townshend, a fellow blogger. I had a few days off and built a little home page to put my poetry on, which I'm quite pleased with - and also signed up to myspace. I am still writing and editing my book and enjoying the process. I have also been writing new poetry and plan to give some reading of my work in London.

Domestically, we've had problems with the children's school and had to move them to a new school, which has been quite stressful, and also my wife and I have agreed to split up. I'm looking to move into London as soon as possible. At the moment we are focussing on the children and making sure they are settled then sorting out the money side. This saddens me and is not what I want, but we both agree it is pointless carrying on the way things are. We are and will remain good friends, so who knows what the furture will bring?

I remain as always optimistic, and i take strength from my friends, my children, and my art.

Totally crap, but good crap..

2006-09-11T17:24:00.000+01:00

This blog is turning into a monthly, instedad of a daily. I'm going to have to change the format after writing it for over a year now. The blog was supposed to be a journal of the writing of my book, and it's been a useful tool and has been a motivation in itself. The book is still very much alive, although I'm not getting as much time and head space to devote to it as I would like.

I've just finished an intense period at work and hopefully things will quiten down a bit. I'm also involved in a court case with an ex landlord regarding a deposit. Gathering evidence etc has been hugely time consuming but I intend to win the case so I have got to put in the effort. I'm actually looking forward to the case as he is a crook and an arsehole and I intend to have him.

My son has started playing rugby and it's a joy to go and watch him practice. I bought him hia kit at the weekend and he was totally made up. I also worked on my vegetable patch, planted some leeks, which was satisfying. At the moment I'm trying to get finance for a car - and I've almost cleared all my debts, which is an achievement.

Watched The Descent at the weekend - a horror film about six women potholing in north carolina, or some godforsaken place. Totally crap, but good crap..

Beowulf

2006-08-07T17:21:00.000+01:00

After three weeks' leave I'm now back at work and entering another busy, but exciting time. The magazine I work on is being redesigned and we're switching publishing software, which means I'm training for the rest of the week. Apart from the first week when the children were still at school I didn't really get a chance to write, but I didn't get too stressed. My energy was focussed on the children and we had a brilliat time last week camping on the Devon coast. It was a first for all of us and it proved a great holiday. The highlight of which was catching mackerel and cooking it for breakfast on the last morning.

This morning I was back on the train jostling for a seat, but managed to write, it is my best and only time and if I can manage two hours a day while I commute then I'm happy. On holiday I picked up an old copy of Beowulf, which I've read once but enjoying it again. The structure of the old english poem is interesting - ie time is irrelevant and is not in any chronological order. I also watched David Lynch's Mullholland Drive which has the same diachronic treatment and is an inspiration for my own writing.

It's good to be back in London, the city always inspires me.

A work in progress...56

2006-07-30T17:49:00.000+01:00

The children have been off school so not much time to devote to writing this week. The heat in southern england has been intolerable so even on a night, when the kids finally go to bed, it's been impossible to work and we've been going to bed early. I have mangaed to do a bit of revising and I have written a press release for my friend Al's new album, which he is happy with. I managed to go swimming on friday, but no time for yoga. It's been full on with the kids and it's been fun. We've been to the beach, cinema (Pirates of the Carribean 2), park to play football and on a long bicyle ride in the country. Next week I'm taking them camping on my own in Devon, we've begged, borrowed and bought the gear and we're really looking forward to it. It's only for four days and is very much a trial to see if we can rough it!
I'm going into London tomorrow to hear a preview of Al's album and also check some proofs of the redesign for the magazine. I'm back at work the following monday and hope to resume my writing.
I'm trying to get a copy of Balzac's Unamed Masterpiece and have been listening to Schoenberg. The writing is still very much alive, time, as always, is the problem.

A work in progress...55

2006-07-19T11:05:00.000+01:00

Another month has gone by - it's really hard to believe. I'm now on three week's leave and at the moment the kids are still at school so I'm having a quiet week, writing, practising yoga and gardening, although the latter is somewhat restricted by the heatwave. It's as hot as Hong Kong in Britain at the moment and there is no AC.

I went to Totnes in devon with my wife last weekend. She had an exhibition and part of my novel is set in the town so it was good for research. It's a beautiful town with a new-age feel to it and we both agreed we'd like to live down there.

I'm going to Liverpool and Manchester this weekend on a press junket for the British Open; I'm not into golf, but the trip sounds good and I get sometime to checkout liverpool. I'm planning to go camping with the kids for a week and when I get back to work i have to redesign the magazine. I maybe getting a payrise and promotion this year.

Tonight is a school performance of Joseph which both my kids are in. I'm still trying to get finance for a decent car and am trying to sort my finances out. Homelife is OK and for the time being I don't think I'll be moving out.

At the moment I'm listening to stockhausen and schoenberg for inspiration while I write. Brian Wilson's Smile is also back on the playlist, it's a brillant album for the summer.

My friend Al's album is almost complete and I'm looking forward to hearing it; he wants me to write a press release for him; which shouldn't be a problem. I'm taking my ex-landlord to court to get back my deposit; I'm fairly confident and am looking forward to the case. If I win I'll get over a thousand pounds, which will help the finances. This afternoon I'm going with my wife to salisbury, our last chance to do soemthing togther before the school holidays.

I do want to go to London and see the Kandinsky exhibition at the Tate and see a play - the life of galileo.

A work in progress...54

2006-06-19T12:16:00.000+01:00

Almost a month since my last blog, I can't believe it. Work has been especially manic and I've had to do lots of extra hours this month working on a special report on a government briefing. It goes to press tomorrow and then there's just the magazine to do, which goes to press on June 29, my birthday and I can pretty much take all of july off.

I got a good critique back from Helen, my writer friend on my work, and have been busy working on the novel afater a break of a couple of weeks. It's definitely taking shape although I still don't know where it's going. I have as a template Jack Kerouac's the Subterraneans, a book I read about 20 years ago, which focuses on a brief, intense relationship. My writing is really opening up, but the hardest things is keeping it taut.

My firends Al and Elizabeth have had a daughter called Alicia, so apart from one visit to see the baby I haven't seen much of them. They need sapce and time to re-adjust as parents.
There's talk of going to see the Who in Hyde Park on July 2 with Al, which might be fun. I'm also going down to Totnes for my wife's exhibition the week after. Part of the book is set in Totnes so it will be good for research.

I'm watching bits of the world cup, but can't get excited by england, they are going to fall short yet again - the tournament itself is interesting and I usually have it on in the background on an evening as I'm writing.

Had some good weekends with the kids - going to the beach and enjoying the sun. Yesterday was father's day and I got cards etc and went to a very pleasant beer garden on the banks of the river Test. I'm trying to sort out my finances and get a decent car for the summer holidays, my wife and me are getting along OK although there's still tension in the home.

Stil, I write, what else can I do?

A work in progress...53

2006-05-15T16:38:00.000+01:00

I can't believe it's almost a month since my last post. Quite a lot has happened since then. I've got a new laptop, another Compaq which is quite cool and funky so I will start writing again next week. My nephew Alex is with me in the office for work experience, so he's been travelling in with me on the train so I've had to suspend writing for a couple of weeks. I've also had stuff to write up for work so the writing has taken a back seat for a couple of weeks. I have created a blog for what I've done so far and once I've tweaked the layout I'll go public with it.

I've also sent 11,000 words to my friend Helen who's an author and I'm waiting for her feedback. If it's good I may try a couple of agents. Looks like my case with the evil ex landlord is going to go to court as I've not heard anything from him and when I do I doubt it will be a tempt at any reconcilliation. I'm very confident of my position and would quite look forward to meeting him in court.

Relationship wise, we've hit another rocky patch and there's talk of me moving out. We've been in the house less than 2 months, but things are not working out between my wife and me. I'm resigned to us splitting up.

Watched it's all gone pete tong at the weekend, which was surprisngly good and turned into a warm, human interest story with excellent performances from the lead actors and of course a kickin soundtrack. Also mowed the lawn at the weekend. I hate doing it, it's so surban and middle class and fucking boring.

A work in progress...52

2006-04-20T12:41:00.000+01:00

Moved offices at work into a different building, opposite the main one. The move was on the cards but a bit of a surprise, especially because I'm in the middle of some tight deadlines. I have not yet got over moving house.

I've sent correspondence from me and the evil landlord to my solicitor, working on the presumption that attack is the best form of defence. Not had a reply from evil landlord, but I want to take him to the cleaners for the inconvenience and stress is refusal to hand over my deposit has caused us. He is untrustworthy and a despicable character and it galls me to think I paid his fucking mortgage for two years.

I'm trying to do the corrections to my revision notes on a night, but am too tired. I've almost finished the first section and feel the need to get it out there and receive some feedback.

Homelife is again strained, my wife is depressed about things and it making me feel sad and unsatisfied. I'm really not sure what the future holds. At least the kids are secure in their own home and seem happy.

It's payday tomorrow and I have a fiver to my name, nit sure what we're doing at the weekend. Git a yoga practice at lunchtime, I need some positive energy or good news.

A work in progress...51

2006-04-18T17:23:00.000+01:00

The easter break proved quite stressful in the end. The landlord of our previous address has decided to keep our deposit and made all kinds of serious allegations about the condition of the property. This was upsetting and inconvenient as we were relying on the money to buy bunk beds for the kids' room. At the moment they are sleeping on mattresses on the floor.
The landlord has a reputation as a complete wanker and is basically greedy and arrogant. We left the property in a better condition than we found it and have an inventory to prove it. I spent most of my spare time drafting a letter to the tosser demanding my £1,000 deposit back. I posted it this morning on my way to the station.
Next the boiler packed in, we went a day without heating or hotwater before I figured out what was wrong with it. A faulty thermostat. We spent a most of the time sorting boxes out and taking more stuff to the tip. Highlight of the weekend was going to see Ice Age 2 and watching the new Dr Who. We also went for a cycle ride which was great - the first time the kids have been on their cycles this year. Drank a lot of wine and didn't get much writing done. I also have speakers rigged up to both computers so was able at least to listen to some music. I also played chess with my son Noah, who's six. He's getting quite good, but cries and sobs when I take his queen. I keep telling him it's to show him the moves, but he doesn't understand. In a year he'll be whipping my ass.
Work is busy, and we've been told we're moving offices tomorrow, righ in the middle of deadlines. Great.

A work in progres...50

2006-04-12T17:22:00.000+01:00

Opened up my laptop on the train this morning and I got an error message and the bloody thing refused to boot. Christ I'm so sick of it. I can't spend anymore money on the damn thing, I feel like throwing it out of the train window. It maybe something simple, but knowing my luck it's going to be something fucking major. Windows and PCs are so flaky, I'm going to get an ibook if I have to replace it.

I managed to proof out the first 12000 words and I'm slowly reading through it. I'm pleased with the results but maybe need to look at the structure. I wrote it in a cut and paste style, but I don't think it works.

I'm looking forward to the Easter holidays, it means a long weekend and I just want to chill in the new home. Works is busy, but rewarding, and Al, my musician mate, wants a press release writing to launch his debut album. As usual skint and overdrawn, but creatively enriched.

A work in progress...49

2006-04-06T16:43:00.000+01:00

Christ, almost a month since my last post, I can't believe I left it so long.

It's been a completely manic four weeks. We moved into the new house at the weekend, which was stressful and utterly exhausting. The move itself went OK, but we've moved from a three-bedroomed place which we were renting to a two-bedroomed house which we have bought.

The kids have settled in OK and don't mind sharing a bedroom. We can convert the loft into another bedroom, bu that will be in th future. My wife is tired and stressed, but seems reasonably happy. Hopefully being in her own house will have a calming influence. The cafe gallery has closed and added to the pressure, as she had to clear out all her work a week before we moved. The house is compact, but cosy, and in a quiet street. There is not really anywhere to write, unless I take the shed in the garden, which my wife is eyeing up for a studio.

I got my laptop back, it's super quick with all the shit taken off the HD and the extra memory. I miss the ibook though, which I had on loan from work. The Mac is much cooler and always provokes interest on the train. I found that other mac users also gravitated to me, it is like a community.

Because I can't afford to take anytime off work right now, due to a few special projects and a restructuring of the department, I have managed to keep on writing. I've almost finished revising the first 12,000 words and will look to send it off to a couple of agents and maybe post something on this blog. I also wat to print the poetry collection and do some reading.

The kids are off school for the easter holidays, but I doubt whether I can take any time off. I feel tired and a little bit down with things, I guess it's the pressures of the house and family and also our relationship. There are issues that still need resolving. My wifes birthday and our ninth wedding anniversary came and went as it was in the middle of the move. We don't seem to have any fun anymore, that is one of the main problems.

My only enjoyment is writing. I feel pleased that I've managed to keep on going through everything, it' my release and salvation.

At the moment I'm reading William Burroughs' Naked Lunch. A brilliant read, original and provoking. I'm picking up a lots of things from his style. I'm also reading a book on the Turin shroud, which fingers Da Vinci as the faker. Very interesting.

May look at changing the tone of the blog, start publishing extracts from my book.

We've had lovely spring mornings, London looks all pristine, the days are nice and fresh and people are sat out in the parks on a lunchtime. I do ashtanga yoga twice a week and can realy feel the benefits. The new house is about a 20 minute walk to the station, I may start going on my mountain bike.

A work in progress...48

2006-03-17T17:24:00.000Z

Met up with James and Nic last night in London. Went for dinner and had a good chat. James gave me a copy of his new single, things are really happening with him on the DJing side. We talked about feature ideas.

Afterwards went around to Al's in Lewisham, he was just back from the studio in wales and was on a creative high. Got up to the usual shenanigans, and listened to some good music - Beatles, dylan and the boss. I had a meeting this morning so didn't get too wasted. Elizabeth was in france so it could have got real messy. Maybe playing drums on a couple of tracks for Al, which will be cool.

Got to continue revising this weekend. Very pleased with the progress so far on the novel.

The children are still ill, so not sure what we're going to do at the weekend. Got Last Days and Wolf Creek to watch.

A work in progress...47

2006-03-06T17:40:00.000Z

Had a bad cold over the weekend so didn't do much writing. I'm busy revising the first 10,000 words and like what I've written so far. I've got the work laptop for another week and may have my own back by the weekend. The computer will reboot with XP Home, but not Pro , which is what it was installed with. Very bizarre.

I've been drilling the kids all weekend for their sponsored spell and I'm reading them Roald Dhal's The Wicthes on a nighttime, which is scaring the pants off them. We had a good day together yesterday as my wife was at a dance workshop all day. I couldn't take them swimming as promised, due to my cold, but we did go out for lunch.

My wife was also unwell and went to bed early on saturday night. I stayed up and watched A Clockwork Orange. The film usually makes me depressed, but this time I watched it for its artistic merits. Forget the violence this is a beautiful film, I hadn't realised Beethoven's Ninth played such an important part of the film. I have been listening to this piece of music quite a lot recently and it made the film all the more powerful for me.

I also watched Nil By Mouth, another unforgiving British film that pulls no punches. Ray Winstone is terrrifying as the out of control geezer beating up everyone he comes into contact with. Gary Oldman's script and direction is brutally authentic. Depressingly brilliant and inspiring.

A work in progress..46

2006-03-02T17:11:00.000Z

Twenty-two-and-a-half-thousand words written. A third of the book.

Going to continue writing, but also edit and revise what I've got and maybe send the first 10,000 words out to a few people. I had to go to a function at the South African High Commission on tuesday. I had about an hour to kill so I was wandering around the West End and found Brown's bar. It's very posh and exclusive, also expensive, but I was able to sit in this lovely whicker armchair in a quiet corner and write. The waitresses kept me refreshed with Leffe beer and it was all rather civilised. It felt as though I was in the Far East again.

I've started reading WS Burroughs' The Naked Lunch. After reading Ulysses (which I have not finished, but will go back to) Burroughs' prose is frighteningly coherent. I'm reading it for the structure, or lack of it. I've read so many books over the past 14 months, devouring all sorts of material.

Sam Beckett is the feature of a special season at the Barbican. I'm going to get a couple of tickets for Waiting for Godot. Never seen the play but studied the text for A Level. There is much to learn from him - his use of language and dialogue. I keep thinking of the play as I write.

The more i write the more confident I get and the better my writing becomes. I can see it evolving before my eyes. It's quite scary at times how stuff just comes out, as if I have no control over it.

A work in progress...45

2006-02-24T13:59:00.000Z

Put the magazine to bed and signed off the pages today. Stayed at Al and Elizabeth's last night and predictably it all got messy. Al was in the doghouse this morning because he had to catch an early train to York. Elizabeth's six months' pregnant and was not impressed with our behaviour. Apart from caining 10 bottles of Kronenberg and Belgian beer, we also drank a full bottle of sherry, I can still taste the sickly stuff. We also smoked several joints and got completely trashed. Got to bed at 3am. Not good, but managed to get into work for 10am and had a bacon and egg sandwich from the canteen and several coffees.

Al had a copy of Pete Townshend performing Lifehouse on DVD, which we watched. What a fantastic gig, it reminded me of, and is on a par with, Brian Wilson's smile. Townshend played acoustic and was backed by the BBC orchestra. I saw him as an inspirational artist and for the first time realised how restrictive The Who were/are for his talents. But he's also a rocker and can do it solo and The Who undoubtedly gave him energy and a release. The fact that he didn't go crazy, as Brian Wilson did over Smile, is testament to the support he got from within the who - which led of course to the brilliant Who's Next album.

It transported me back to the 70s when we used to listen to Townshend's solo album Who Came First, a place I was happy to be as a lot of my writing at the moment, the poetry collection, is set in the 70s. Elizabeth also had a print of a kandinsky picture on the shelf which in my stoned state I became transfixed with. I'm into colour at the moment and I'm learning a lot by studying Kandinsky.

Invetiably we put Rough Mix and revelled in our performance at The Spotted Cow, circa 1988, with much mutual backslapping and reminiscing. Andy Reid was in our thoughts . Al played some of his own songs he's demoing next week in a studio in Wales. In the context of the evening the songs sounded good, he just needs the confidence and balls to deliver a strong vocal performance like he did all those years ago at The Cow. I'm sure he has it in him and look forward to hearing the results.

This is only writing I'll achieve today. On the train I'll veg out and read a profile of Samuel Beckett in a magazine. I also need to get a new auto pencil a Drafix. I'm very close to finishing the first section of the book and can't wait to go back to ot.

My wife tells me a copy of Naked Lunch has arrived. This could provide the final piece of the jigsaw and hopefully help with structuring the book. I'm still reading Ulysses, it takes a smuch effort as writing my own book. I've given up trying to work it out, I just read each page at a time and get lost in the beauty of the language and admire its audaciousness.

Looks like we'll be moving next month. My plan is to be mortgage free in two years. Looking forward to the weekend, would like to go and see Capote at the cinema. My son is having his postponed birthday party - I have to make a treasure map.

A work in progress...44

2006-02-21T12:14:00.000Z

Deadline week this week on the magazine, so things are a bit hectic.

Still managing to write and working on a crucial scene where the first two characters meet. I'm enjoying writing dialogue and am able to keep the tension between the two would be lovers just right.

I managed to do quite a bit of writing at the weekend, where I mainly set the scene. The children are all well and are back at school. My daughter has been told she must wear glasses, which has caused a drama. I've told her that all writers wear glasses, so she asked why didn't I then. Sometimes she sits next to me at the kitchen table and writes her stories as I work on my laptop. She inspires me.

The house looks as though it will go through, we're desperate to move and It maybe the fresh start that wee need. I'm going to be mortgaged up to my eyeballs, but my plan is to be mortgage free in two years.

The writing is such a relief and an escape, I wish I could devote more time to it.

A work in progress...43

2006-02-17T16:42:00.000Z

Had a dream the other night that I was carrying a canvas about the shape and size of a single bed with another bloke, who was insignificant. I was carrying it through the dark alleyways near the home I was brought up in. The alleys were dark and smelly, full of dogshit etc and it seemed like a struggle to get the canvas home. These alleyways feature in the collection of poems I have written and I was obviously revisiting old territory. The canvas represented my art and the labyrinthe of dark, threatening alleys represents the struggle of trying to breakout of such an environment and create something beautiful. When I woke up I had this incredible urge to read Dylan Thomas's In My Craft or Sullen Art, which I think sums up the struggle in us all.

In my craft or sullen art
Exercised in the still night
When only the moon rages
And the lovers lie abed
With all their griefs in their arms,
I labour by singing light
Not for ambition or bread
Or the strut and trade of charms
On the ivory stages
But for the common wages
Of their most secret heart.

Not for the proud man apart
From the raging moon I write
On these spindrift pages
Nor for the towering dead
With their nightingales and psalms
But for the lovers, their arms
Round the griefs of the ages,
Who pay no praise or wages
Nor heed my craft or art.

I've spent all week working on a single paragraph and finally got it this morning. It's a very important paragraph as it's link from the present to the past, but with only a slight feel of shifting time.

The book is going to be bathed in colour, the protagonist is an artist and this is how he views the world. I've been reading lots about the pschology of colour and I have a rich and varied palette to work from.

The house move is back on, if we can come up with the cash. Not sure what the weekend will bring. I hope to watch Clockwork Orange and write. May go to the coast with the kids if the weather stays fine.

A work in progress...42

2006-02-15T17:13:00.000Z

Valentine's Day came and went with barely any recognition. My daughter made me a card, as did my wife, and I returned the compliments, but other than a token gesture, nothing special.
An air of gllom and despondencey hangs over the house - we've been declned for a mortgage and my son is still ill. It's half-term and everyone's confined to the house. I am glad that I go out to work.

There are other mortgage lenders so we should be able to get one, but it depends how much for. It doesn't look as though we'll be moving into the house we've seen, which belongs to my ex brother in law, and I feel his asking price is too high anyway.

I seemed to have written loads, but not got anywhere. I thought I had cracked the first section, but now I'm not so sure. Still working on it, but the external pressures are starting to affect my writing, work and outlook. I feel like getting away from everyone and everything.

At least I managed to do yoga today, which is a positive. I'm also reading this excellent website from an established writer - her whole book on how to write is on her site and there's some very useful information. http://www.rachelsimon.com/sg_contents.htm

Stephen King is also proving enetertaining, informative and inspirational. Both sources are excellent and are helping me through this rough period.

A work in progress...41

2006-02-13T12:23:00.000Z

Had a strange weekend. The atmosphere at home was tense and the children were sick. We had planned to go to the imax cinema in London to celebrate my son's sixth birthday, with our friends Al and Elizabeth. But my son came down with the lurgi, the same symptoms that my daughter was suffering from.
My wife has been tending to sick children all week, and was feeling fed up and despondent about not having any income. We're trying to buy a house, but struggling to get a deposit together. All our lives we seem to have been broke and it is wearing us both down. I feel drained by it all and my wife is becoming desperate. I've suggested she sells her handmade cards through ebay, but she can't grasp the concept.
Surprisingly, I got a lot of writing done over the weekend, or at least research. I discovered that the artist Wassily Kandinsky had synaethesia - the ability to see sounds and hear colours. My main character also has this condition, it gives him a unique outlook on life, he's developing into a fascinating character.
I've pretty much nailed the first part of the book and I'm revising the first 10,000 words to send to an agent. It reads really well, is set in the present and the first part deals with the London bombings.
I've been reading Stephen's King's book 'on writing'. I've not really read much of his stuff, but enjoyed the various adaptations of his work to screen. He has a great attititude to the writing process, I'm not really learning anything knew, but his voice is kind of assurance that my writing style is up to scratch. His main tip is listen to the beat, rather than get booged down in all the rules, be free and flowing, yet know when to rein the beast in.

A work in progress...40

2006-02-07T13:54:00.000Z

I had three days off last week, plus the weekend and hardly wrote anything. My time was mainly taken up by trying to fix my laptop and also seeing a guy about a mortgage. I also did lots of things with the kids over the weekend and managed to clear out a load of junk and take it to the tip.

We're pretty certain we can get a mortgage and by coincidence we maybe buying my wife's ex brother-in-law's place; we went to see it and although fairly small, it has a big loft, a shed with electrics and office space under the stairs. We should be able to get it at a good price and we can just about afford it. This will give us a bit more security and also work out cheaper than renting. We're we are at the moment si really getting us down, and I'm sure it's part of the problem. I'm still trying to work from home, but it's not possible at the moment.

I have managed to do some writing, I'm still concentrating on the first 20,000 words and it is taking shape, very pleased with the results so far. The poetry collection's on hold at the moment as I can't affors to get it printed. It's my son's 6th birthday on Friday, two weeks after my daughter's 8th so it's a very expensive month.

I have started to read Stephen King's On Writing, a book which I have wanted to read for a couple of years. Hopefully it will inspire me further - or at least pick up some tips - as I'm pretty fired up.

Luckily I have an ibook on loan from work, so I'm managing to write on the train. At the moment I'm mainly revising and tweaking stuff and looking at the structure.

My son has been dowloading games from shockwave on the internet - can you believe it? The boy's five years old. I found google desktop download on the desktop. I've threatened to password the computer if he doesn't stop.

Finances are still parlous, mty wife's not really making any money and we have massive overheads. I've managed to wrestle my debts under control and no longer own a credit card. Workinf from home would really help and make a huge difference, I have to keep pushing for it.

A work in progress...39

2006-01-30T13:55:00.000Z

Had a mad week last week. I had to go to a funeral in York, a conference in St Albans, and meet up with a couple of old pals from Rough Mix, which necessitated staying over in Lewisham on Friday night and getting completely wasted. Olly came over from Holland with a DVD of one of our gigs from 1988, a massive trip down memory lane, interspersed with plenty of Who, Townshend, U2 and Paul Weller. Saturday we had lunch at a pub on Blackheath and celebrated his divorce. It was also Al's 43 birthday, I bought him Pete Townshed Pyschoderelict DVD. I managed to get home Saturday night after being away since Tuesday. It was also press week last week, my busiest time.

I managed to do some writing on the train to and from York and also at the conference hotel. I was also back writing this morning. The writing felt good. I should get time off this week to write some more. I'm aiming to try and get the first section finished and then send it to an agent. Home life is OK, I missed the family while I was away and we're getting on okay. My wife may have a part-time job which is going to help with the mortgage, which is good news.

My brother is giving me his drumkit so I can teach my son Noah how to play. Have to arrange to go and collect them from York.

I have also got Stephen King's On Writing book to read and bought a copy of Clockwork Orange on DVD.

A work in progress...38

2006-01-19T17:41:00.000Z

Today is my daughter's birthday, and it's exactly a year since I began writing. Through all the trials and tribulations I'm still writing and it's going really well. I find it a pleasure still and I'm pleased with the results so far of the second draft. I feel as though I am writing something original and interesting, I'm really in a groove as I seem to have a definite structure and outline. When I read it back, I can't believe they are my words on the page.
It feels as though I was meant to do this and I'll see it through and have the book published, it is those thoughts that drive me on.

I have also sent my book of poetry to the collection which has also inspired me to continue writing. On the domestic front, things are more settled for the time being, but I can't say what will happen long-term. My priority is to provide security and safety for the children and then look at my relationship with my wife.

Hopefully I'll have a laptop on loan from work which will enable me to catch up with the writing. Enterting a busy period workwise, but should be able to stay focussed.

Still I write, what else can I do?

2006-01-12T17:15:00.000Z

After all the talk of breaking up, we have decided to stay together - for the time being. My wife's main grief was she needed security for the family etc, and I agree and want to provide that security for them. The problem is that because of a few bad decisions and financial mismanagement on primarily my part we no longer have our own house. We rent at the moment, but really we should have our own place.

I have been working my hardest to try and get the cash together for a deposit, and is one of the reasons behind writing the book. One of the things that drives me is that I believe I will achieve some kind of redemption if it does get published and it may just make enough to buy a house. But primarily I'm writing it for my own sense of achievement and self worth, any financial success is a bonus. But wanting to provide for the family is a driving factor in all this, I work hard at my job, do extra work on a freelance basis etc to try and provide for them.

This crisis has brought up a lot of issues in our relationship and I'm not sure they can be resolved easily. I feel that first I have to somehow get a house, provide some stability then my wife and I can sit down and talk about our future. The rent on the house and my travelling costs are crippling us so I need to do something about reducing our overheads. The ideal scenario is to work from home, which could be an option in the not too distant future. My wife has also decided that her art work is not paying, considering all the time and effort she puts into it. This has been a major problem throughout our relationship, and I have helped and supported her as much as possible, but it just isn't working. She has decided to look for a job and devote all her time to the children.

The writing is still there, but losing the laptop is a major blow, I have to get it replaced as soon as possible. Now I have the desktop it's not so drastic, but the kids like to use it on a weekend, and rightly so, it was bought for them. I find that even if I scribble away on the train by the time I get home and had dinner its 9pm and I'm usually too tired to start writing.

I've just ran a credit check on myself and my record is surprisingly clean so I should be able to get a mortgage - whether it's sufficient to buy a house in the area we live is a different matter. My wife went to Totnes in Devon for the weekend and she thinks we should move down there. It's a new age community, property's fairly cheap and if I could keep my job and work from home I would definitely consider it.

Hoefully going to self publish a collection of poems in the next month, called Shredded Wheat. I'll look at publishing some on the blog.

My first week back has been exhausting as I've been interviewing candidates for the post of editorial assistant. I haven't done much writing and the self imposed deadline of having the book finished by Jan 19 - when I started it last year now looks fanciful. Still I write, what else can I do?

Down the Tube

2006-01-09T22:43:00.000Z

I write tonight purely for the sake of writing, I feel the need to write, I want to sit and work on the book until the early hours of the morning, but I've had a busy day t work and feel exhausted. I've been interviewing candidates for th vacancy of editorial assistant and feel mentally drained. More interviews are planned tomorrow and the next day. It's the first time I've ever interviewed people for a job, it feels strange being the interviewer and not the interviewee. It was my first day back and there was a Tube strike in London and train fares have gone up 5%.

As if I didn't have enough problems, my laptop is kaput. I thought I was doing the write thing by doing a full system restore as there were problems with the harddrive, but in essence it was working OK, if a little slow. I spent 12 hours on Friday trying to reboot it but it just freezes. I took it into the repair shop and the engineers basically told me it wasn't worth repairing - I could get a new one for the cost of a hardrive. It means i'm goingh to have to spend 500-600 pounds on a new model, after spending 400 pounds on a motherboard in April.

I've also bought a desktop for the family, which I'm going to have to use. I'll have to write on the train in my notebook and type it up at night, but after a 12-hour day working on a computer this is not ideal. I have to get a new laptop so I can continue to work on the train.

I have a bout 20,000 words of the first draft written, I had hope to have 40,000 by the end of the holidays, but due to technical problems and marriage meltdown, it just hasn't been possible.
I need to make more money, to buy a laptop and provide for the family. My wife has finally realised what she does doesn't make money, despite all the time and energy she puts into her artwork and trying to survive on one income is a struggle, especially with our high overheads.

We'ved decided to stay together for the time being. We're going to try and get a house, eg mortgage, and get some security, my wife is looking for a job and I'm trying to get a mortgage. I need to have the kids safe and secure before I think about leaving. In the meantime we're working on the relationship, trying to sort out the problems, but of we get the house and things are still not right between us then I'll move out.

Very frustrated with life, feeling like packing my job in and staying home to write, but it's not possible.

Friends

2006-01-06T11:56:00.000Z

A couple of good friends have been in touch, offering their support and help, which is comforting. My wife has gone down to Devon for the weekend; we both need a bit of space so I'm at home with the kids. I was going to try and write while I had this time, but it's difficult with so much going on, I feel emotionally and mentally drained.

I'm also rebuilding my laptop so have had to backup work and files, which is a bit of a pain, but it needs to be done, since the motherboard blew up and was replaced it's been very slow.

At the moment I'm listening to Dr John's Seppiana Hericane album. It was recorded as a response to the New Orleans flooding. It's a beautiful soulful blues record, which of course deals with people who have lost everything, homes, loved ones etc and are left with nothing.

Hopeflly I'll get around to doing some work later or over the weekend. Still not sure what's going to happen regarding our future. We re both emotionally drained by it all.

What will be

2006-01-05T14:39:00.000Z

It's not the best start to the new year, that's for sure. Over the last two or three weeks there's been a lot of soul searching and honesty as we try and work out our relationship. The atmosphere is strained, bue we are still talking and we both still love each other. At times we argue, other times we hug. We both feel confused as we try and work out what to do for the best.

The conclusion we have reached is that it's best for me to move out, so I'm going to look for a place in London. My wife, Christine, definitely needs some space to sort out her own issues with her work and to also step back from our relationship. We have been together for 20 years and it hasn't been easy for both of us, but somehow up until now we have managed to keep things together, but the pressure has taken an intolerable toll on us and there is a mutual feeling that we can't go on as we are any longer.

I take some of the blame for the instability in our relationship, both through my own behaviour, which at times has been pretty abominable, and the fact that in the last eight years we have led an almost nomadic existence as we have moved from country to country with my work.

My job is also stressful and demanding, I'm a production editor on a national newspaper, and with the commute I work long hours, which hasn't helped ths situation. My wife wants to be on her own and devote all her time and energy to the children andI have to respect her decision. She is a wonderful mother and I still will be involved with the kids an see them when I can.

Our separation could only be temporary or it could be permanent, we both don't know quite what will happen. We are both on a journey and at the momet its taking us in different directions. The energy between us is not right and although it's a tough decision to split up, it's better this way than to have the children grow up in a poisoned atmosphere with us arguing or being unhappy.

For me, I have my writing and I'm committed to finishing my book. I see it has my personal redemption, justification for everything I've done and the way I've gone about it. Everything has been leading up to this point, I thought I could do it with my wife, but now I'm going to have to do it on my own.

I also love writing, it's the only occassion where I can be honest with myself. This is my truth, and there's a lot more to come.

My wife and me

2006-01-02T23:42:00.000Z

My wife and I have decided to split up. Maybe for some readers out there who knows us it will come as a shock, or then again perhaps not. We’ve been together for over 20 years, married for eight and have two children, an eight-year-old daughter and a son, 6. On the surface it looks as though we have a loving and happy relationship and we do; we have a lot in common with each other, share the same interests in many areas and have been an inspiration and each other’s guiding lights. But we’ve been through a lot of shit and trauma in our lives as we struggled to realise our true potential. At times it brought us closer together and on other occasions the pressure has almost tore us apart. The pressures have been primarily financial but we both have unresolved personal issues, there are areas of our relationship which are just not compatible and we have both come to realise they never will be. We both have not been happy for some time, it’s been tough since I came back from Hong Kong two years ago, but we have tried to make it work, but it’s just not happening. We both care about the children and want the best for them but if they can see or sense we’re not happy then it is going to affect them and we don’t want them to see us bickering or arguing or not getting on if we stay together.

The truth is the love has gone, we don’t love each other anymore. There is no passion, excitement or fun in the relationship anymore. We still get on and I think we always will, we’ve been through too much together and there will always remain a strong bond between us. My wife is a very spiritual and compassionate person, is caring a wonderful mother and a talented artist. She is honest and caring and is a wonderful mother to our children. At times I feel I just don’t measure up and in many ways I am her exact opposite. She is also a strong person and is prepared to do things on her own, in her own way. She says life is a journey and we have to be true to the Self. We have come to the end of our journey together and now it is time to part, we both agree and there is no bitterness or anger, a great deal of sadness, but deep down we both realise it is for the best, for both our sakes and the children’s.

A work in progress...37

2005-12-08T12:16:00.000Z

I checked one of my previous blogs. I started the new draft on November 28 and I've already written 15,000 words. I'm aiming to wite it in three sections of roughly 20,000 so hopefully I can get the first part finished over the weekend.

I want to get a second draft written by Jan 19, my daughter's birthday, and the day I actually started writing the book. I have lots of time off over Christmas, but whether I'll get time to write is a different matter.

The characters are really developing, Nat, the main character's girlfriend is holding the structure together, just as she holds him together. The narrative seems pacey and jumps about but to me anyway seems coherent.

Busy at work, two weeks to go before I finish for Christmas.

Had a couple of quotes in for the printing of the poetry collection. Will launch it after Christmas.

A work in progress...36

2005-12-05T17:44:00.000Z

Had a good weekend writing, seem to do lots. My wife was busy and went out saturday night so I spent the whole evening writing, instead of watching a movie.

The kids were great. Did lots of stuff with them during the days, including checking out the local library and starring in a christmas play that me daughter wrote.

I took them to a soft ballpark for lunch yesterday and managed to read the papers, my wife was at the cafe/gallery. She sold a painting for £280, which is a bonus. The new desktop computer arrived on saturday, which I've hid until Christmas.

Every time I get my laptop out to work the kids want to commandeer it to play spongebob square pants games. Listened to to some cool modern jazz, ambient techno and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! over the weekend, courtesy of my friend James, the DJ.

Everything's dropping into place with the novel, the new style suits my style, I'm trying to get the first part written by next weekend - it's going to be in three chunks of 20,000 words. Up to about 12,000, the narrative really moves, the plots jumps around a bit, but that's intentional, the two characters hold it together. I'm having fun writing in a woman's voice, and I believe it works.

Manically busy at work, three deadlines to meet, but feel energised. Lot's of Christmas parties coming up as well, which maybe a distraction.

Watched Life Acquatic, which was a disappointment, turned it off after an hour.

A work in progress...35

2005-12-01T12:15:00.000Z

The writing's going very well, almost up to 10,000 of the re-write and it seems much more fluid and natural.

Feeling better energy wise, I did yoga yesterday and had a couple of early nights and have not drunk much over the past weeks. Also got some echinacea to boost my immune system, I can't afford to be off this month, it's going to be very busy at work with three deadlines before Christmas. It should be a good month moneywise, which is a relief.

Christine hurt her back and has been in bed for two days, kids playing up a bit.

I'm getting costs on printing for my poetry collection. Will organise a reading/launch at Art & Soul in Andover and the poetry cafe in London early next year. Might ask Al if he wants to play a few tunes, would be good to find a DJ to play some backing tracks.

May also sell an electronic version of the collection, which is called, Shredded Wheat, through the blog. In a way the poetry has given me my voice, all the poems were written while I was in HK, so all I had to do was edit them and design the booklet. It was a very satisfying side project.

I can't believe I've kept going with the book. I could have easily had a block on it, but feel as though now I have really broken through a barrier.

A work in progress...34

2005-11-28T14:07:00.000Z

I feel like devoting all my time to the book, but it's just not possible. It's been a busy month/year and I'm beginning to feel exhausted.

I tell everyone that I've finished the first draft of my novel and proudly proclaim that I've written 80,000 words. In truth I abandoned it, but the new version is really taking shape, written in the first person and it seems so fluid. I'm using most of the material in the first draft and re-writing it in the new style.

I'm going to aim to keep it short, the book I have in mind is Kerouac's The Subtarraneans, which I read many years ago. It's about his brief, intense relationship with a girl. I'm still reading Joyce and revisiting The Wasteland.

I've written 6,000 words of the new draft, I wanted to spend the weekend wrtiting, but I was exhausted and the children were all poorly, as well as my wife. I ended up baking Denis The Menace buns and a groovy chick cake on Sunday, such is life.

Got a very busy December then I have two weeks off over Christmas. The kids are getting a desktop computer for Christmas, which I hope will free up my laptop on a weekend.

I'm trying to get a second draft of 60,000 words written by Jan 19, the day I started the book.

I have also edited a collection of poetry which I'm going to publish in the new year.

I want to write more, but I'm feeling drained. It's been a tough year.

A work in progress...33

2005-11-15T13:40:00.000Z

I can't believe a month has almost passed since my last blog.

I had a nasty viral infection which laid me low for about a week, and then there were deadlines at work etc so not much time or inclination to write. I even stopped work on the book. I was getting terribly confused and have been trying to figure out where it was going. I didn't write anything for about a week but I didn't abandon it all together.

Joyce's Ulysses has really opened things up for me and has shown me the way. I have written 77,000 words and could easily go on, but I re-read the completed opening chapters and decided it was not what I wanted to write. I have decided to change the voice and tone of the novel, keeping the characters and most of the narrative and scenarios, but writing it in the first person. I want it to be a spontaneous piece of prose that the reader simply can't put down. I'm going to go back to Jack Kerouac's The Subtarraneans has an influence. This was quite short, focused on a relationship and was intense. I remember reading it pretty much in one go.

I'm also using some ot the techniques of Joyce and Elliot. I'm looking at the book as one long poem, I don't care about the structure, in this respect it may have the feel of DJ mix, I'm sampling all sorts of stuff, lots of references, but most importantly it's going to be original.

Feeling very excited. I have already started rewriting, I'm going to really go for it, not bother about word counts - it may make only 40,000 words, I don't care. I have pretty much done all the hard work, I have fleshed out the characters, kind of know what works and what doesn't, so it's really down to me.

Money has been a big problem, I'm earning a good wage but it doesn't seem to be enough to support a family of four. This has caused some depression, at times I feel like giving in, why bother? But at the end of the day I do love writing. I am goping to get there, I can feel it, I know it.

A work in progress...32

2005-10-18T13:38:00.000+01:00

I keep reciting TS Eliot's The Wasteland.

Started to read Ulysses, still ploughing through the introduction, but like the idea of the book as one long poem. Also read a story in The Guardian about Tristram Shandy. Sounds like Sterne used some of the methods incorporated by Mark Z Danilewski in House of Leaves: ie little typographical flourishes and bland pages or black pages and chapters randomly pasted in. I must get a copy, maybe read it after Ulysses.

Had a dream last night that I found a picture in a book, someone's life story, the picture was of a party and there was my wife and I in our younger days, looking happy and carefree.

The writing is still going well, I write almost everyday, and I still enjoy it. I'm dealing with a lot of father/son issues as I delve into the character's [Nat] past. Very difficult to get the tone right, but it's getting there.

Also been thinking of Samuel Beckett's Godot.

It's so hard to find the right voice, and keep the belief going.

A work in progress...31

2005-10-17T13:45:00.000+01:00

I finished The House Of Leaves by Mark Z Danielewski last week. When I finally got to the end it was a relief, never has a book demanded so much of me. It was almost harder reading it than writing my own. I enjoyed it more for its style, the prose was incredibly inventive and it has inspired me to think differently about my own writing.

I am now reading Ulysses. The book has been sat on my bookshelf untouched for 12 years. I am hoping it will provide me with more inspiration and give me some kind of steer on my own book.

Managed to do a bit of writing at the weekend, but not much. Writing in the first person still and up to almost 75,000 words. At times I feel like abandoning the whole thing, as I'm not clear on where its going and if i can pull it off. But I am perservering, I write mostly on the train and that daily input is crucial as it keeps the momentum going and the word count ticking over. Even if I write 100,000 words of a first draft and edit it down to 50,000 I would be happy.

The title for my book is The Vitruvian Man.

A work in progress...30

2005-10-11T14:31:00.000+01:00

My friend Jenny the successful writer has got back to me with comments about the three chapters I sent her.

On the whole she thought it was good, she liked the opening and the main character. She did however criticise the detail, or over use of detail and thought it was weighing down the narrative. She also liked the evocation of smells and iconic imagery, which was good.

It proves I can write, which is also encouraging.

Her comments were particularly interesting and I'm going to take them on board. I was afraid that my prose may come over pedestarian or plodding, after so many years in journalism, and was consciously trying to make it come alive with detail. I may hav gone overboard a bit with the similies. This is not a problem, as they come quite easily, literally one after the other, which I try and avoid. I just love writing and the richness of writing but maybe I should try and be more controlled. It's finding that fine line between being boring and non-descriptive and imaginative, while keeping the narrative going.

I feel as though it's quite pacey at the moment so if I edited it down further I may find that medium. At the moment I'm just writing, writing writing, trying to get it all down. It's all over the place at the moment, and I've started to write in the first person, so it's very confusing, but I'm still focused on the main plotline but really just want to get the foundations up and write 80,000+ words.

A work in progress...29

2005-10-05T16:23:00.000+01:00

Too many distractions. Too Many ideas.

I seem to be losing my way with the book, I've got to 70,000 words, but it's all a muddle with no coherent narrative or voice. I've scrapped the idea of publishing or editing it online, although I may publish bits on this blog. I'm getting confused by striving to make the writing original and not conform to the traditional structure of a novel. I havew been hugely influenced by Mark Z Danielewski's House of Leaves, but trying to emulate such a work is way beyond my capabilites. I do however think the influence of DJs and film editors is one to follow, and I'm going to try and blend all the stories into one mix and create a dynamic read.

I have the rest of the week off and I'm going to get my writing pants on and get the bloody thing finished. I also have lots of feature ideas that I'm working on for the newspaper, some are interesting and will be fun to do. I also need the cash, as ever.

I wish I could sit all day and just write, but unfortunatley I have to work, having said that I have a cool job which at least doesn't take all my time and energy.

Once I have some semblance of order I'm going to start talking about the book more and psoting sections, I feel as though I need feedback.

A work in progress...28

2005-10-03T15:20:00.000+01:00

I managed to find a new Moleskine notebook after a trawl around London's West End on Friday. Finances are particularly bad again this month so can't afford a richie hawtin CD, but got a download off the internet. I didn't do much writing over the weekend, just didn't have any energy. Hung out with the kids, read the papers and watched a couple of movies.
Wrote some more first-person stuff on the train this morning. Trying to work out a rhythm and ending for the book.
Got excited about writing in the moleskine, little things like that inspire me. I want to fill it full of beautiful poetry and prose. I write with an auto pencil, and it feels so natural and organic. I have two days off work this week and maybe the weekend to write. I'm going to try and write another 10,000 words and aim to tie up all the loose ends and then get down to work on editing it.

A work in progress...27

2005-09-30T15:25:00.000+01:00

Block Island

Got a travel story published on the Guardian website on Wednesday. It's on Block Island, I wrote it last year when I visted the Newport Jazz festival, also for The Guardian. Click on "Block Island" above to check out the link.

I need a new Moleskine. Going to leave work early and go in to central London. The magazine has gone to press so I'm going to get a bit more time in the next couple of weeks to write. I'm going to try and buy Richie Hawtin's Decks EFX and 909 album and maybe use it as a template for the structure of my book.

I'm definitely going to change the voice to the first person and am seriously considering editing it 'live' online, through a blog. I like the idea of fluidity and the greater freedom it will give me. I'm also intrigued as to what feedback I'll get if any.

Stayed over in London at Al's last night. Got completely wasted, listening to live tapes of the band we once played in, called Rough Mix. See the link below "Rough Mix" for more on that part of my life.

Rough Mix

A work in progress...26

2005-09-27T14:00:00.000+01:00

Written almost 70,000 words of the first draft.

I've made two major decisions. I'm going to change the voice and write in the first person, instead of third. It suits my style. I played around with an opening paragraph and it worked, I felt much more at ease and it sounded more spontaneous. I re-wrote a section about the London bombings; whereas before it sounded like a plodding news report, now it is much more abstract and poetic. It was intensely liberating, the words just flowed and if felt very comfortable.

I have been feeling that my writing was going down a cul-de-sac. Almost 70,000 words and still no idea of how the book is going to end. I've been trying to write to a formula which is not my style.

I'm going to abandon the book format and explore writing it as a blog, in short sharp bursts maybe with links to other characters. I'm going to keep the plot, storyline and characters, but I hope that by writing for a different format I'll be free of convention. I feel very excited. The results will be immediate, I don't know how it's going to go, I'm exploring all possibilities.

The Last Waltz

2005-09-25T11:07:00.000+01:00

Watched this film last night on TV. I first watched it as a 17-year-old; living at home on the dole, wondering what I was going to do with my life. Neil Young's Helpless perfectly expressed my state of mind. Bob Dylan came on and sang Forever Young and I Will Be Released. I remember thinking at the time how cool he looked and his music reached out to me, gave me hope - just as it does now 25 years later. As I watched it again, I saw the film in a different light, I could appreciate Scorsese's filming - I doubt if I'd even heard of him first time around; maybe, as I saw Taxi Driver quite early on and was aware of Mean Streets. Joni Mitchell looked like a Goddess, Neil was Neil, Van the man was a dude as was Dr John. These dudes probably looked ancient to my teenage perceptions, now they looked all so young. Although I did go on to achieve lots of things in my life - I played jazz in Austria, became a journalist, travelled, played in bands - I still had the same feelings of frustration last night as I remember experiencing all those years ago. It seems the only thing that has changed since then is that now I have two children and I know who Lawrence Ferlinghetti is - he came on stage and read a poem. I'm still searching, but for what I don't know, I've achieved everything I wanted to, apart from be a writer, which is why I'm writing this blog and why finally, finally, I am writing a book. This must be my destiny, because why else would I do it? I should be enjoying life; I have got the house and car, wife and kids; it's a Sunday, I should be out doing the gardening, D I Y-ing, looks like dying? Instead I write. I Love my wife and kids, that's not an issue...they are my inspiration.

In 25 years time I will be 67. I wonder if I'll revist The Last Waltz again and look back at where I was at.

Cobralingus

2005-09-14T21:27:00.000+01:00

I'm halfway through Mark Z Danielewski's House of Leaves; i read it mainly on the bus during a 20 minute journey across London to work. This is after spending an hour on the train writing my own book. As you can imagine my head is well and truly scrambled by the time I get to work, and then I have to edit and produce a magazine. I do the same on the way home but in reverse. By the time I get home, I'm a complete vegetable. I just have time to read the kid's a bedtime story - Percy the Park Keeper or Gruffalo comes as a relief.

I can't believe the House of Leaves is five years old, I've only just discovered it; in future all books should be written like this. Its graphic use of text and its whole style is like nothing i've ever read before, it's opened my eyes to the possibilities of what words can do, not only by their meaning but sheer presence on a page. As a newspaper editor I'm aware of the graphical elements of text, but I've never seen it used in this way in a book before. It's like reading Irvine Welsh's Trainspotting and trying to decipher the Scottish dialect, both are original and demand more from the reader.

In my previous posts I have talked about drums and jazz and composition, and I was searching for a method to write in a different way, make it avant-garde and not use the same old template that has been used by novelists for the past 300 years. I could understand what Danielewski was doing with the format and structure of his novel; he's incorporatd highly visual techniques that film makers use. I want to do something similar; approach writing from a different angle, see it in a new medium and for me music is the answer. As I write this I'm listening to Gorecki's 3rd Symphony, a wonderful avant garde piece of music that is lyrical and moving. The three movements tell a different story but they all blend into eachother. As I was researching the House of Leaves I came across an article on the web by Jeff Noon on how writers should adopt techniques used by DJs and film makers; ie cut and splice, use jump cuts and freeze frames, slow-mo, mixing, scratching and sampling.

William Burroughs did this to an extent with Naked Lunch, so it's nothing new, but what Noon is saying is that this is the future, this is how we process information "fluid mediums" for a "fluid society".

He has developed a sofware engine that will scramble text, a bit like how DJs sample and mash up music. It's a fascinating idea and it's designed to fire the writer's imagination. Check it out at http://www.codexbooks.co.uk/book.html

A work in progress ...25

2005-09-12T17:51:00.000+01:00

I feel like playing drums. Playing along to some jazz and letting go. I have an old drumkit up in York which I'm going to go collect. My son, Noah, is five and he has already got a good style and loves to play. We play sometimes on my borther's kit when we're back home. My nephew Dan also plays, so it's a bit of a family thing.

With my writing I'm trying to get a rhythm going and am thinking of writing as a jazz composition. I want to recreate that freedom of improvisation, go off on a solo, change the accent, change the tempo, nuance but always come back to the beat.

I'm writing a very disciplined section, it's almost in real time and my style is to default to journalism. I need to record certain events like the London bombings, which I experienced, I want to convey the feeling of July 7 to the reader, but in an abstract way - hence the jazz.

Maybe when I get home I'll put on some John Coltrane ot Art Blakey.

We've been listening to Antony and the Johnsons over the weekend, my wife says it's ideal music to paint to, but too intense to write to; but I like it all the same.

Still writing everyday, which is good, but papargraphs are coming painfully slow.

A work in progress...24

2005-09-08T17:12:00.000+01:00

During my ashtanga yoga practise yesterday I experienced a truly uplifting experience. I have been trying to do a proper backbend for at least two years - it's that crablike position where you go up on all fours in an arc with your head thrown backwards. I thought it would take me a million years to achieve this posture, but yesterday I rose up like a God; it was as if someone had their arms around my torso and lifted me, but it was my own energy. My head was off the ground and my arms and legs were at full stretch before I realised what had happened; it was such an exhilarating experience.

It's given me confidence in my writing; at the moment i'm plodding trying to work out some kind of narrative/plot for the two main characters and it just seems so pedestrian. I need a flash of brilliance; a creative release of energy to make the words rise up from the page to make all the toil worthwile.

An agent has been in touch, requesting I send in three chapters. This is quite promising - at least I've made some kind of personal contact. The downside is that she workds for the same company as the first agent i sent it to. The MS will probably go into the same readers' pool as last time, so I don't feel too positive about sending it in. On the other hand, what have i got to lose?

A work in progress...23

2005-09-06T14:13:00.000+01:00

The writing is still going well, I bring the laptop to work everyday and beaver away on the train. I've decided to set the story in the present and use the bombings in London as one of the main catalysts which leads to the mental breakdown of my main character, Nat. I was in the capital for the first attacks, so have first hand knowledge of the situation. I'm trying to write about in an abstract way, see it through the character's eyes, rather than write it as a journalist. This is proving difficult, because I want to write it as a news feature rather than in a creative, literary way. I'm trying to be realistic and give the reader a sense of the horror, but what's at stake for me and the character is the psychological impact it has. I'm going into unchartered waters, but the early results are promising. It just takes time. I scrutinise every word of every sentence to try and not make it read like a news report.

I'm up to about 60,00 words, a lot still needs editing, but I feel the foundations are going up and are strong. I work on the book every single day, I feel as though I'm neglecting family, and to an extent friends, but I have to keep going. I have been close to giving up on it on several occasions; but I have to write, whether it's good or crap; I write because it's the beauty of writing that I like most of all.

I am reading the House of Leaves by Mark Z Danielewski. An awesome book, and a debut novel, it makes my attempt look like a magazine feature. But it's inspiring all the same. It's highly complex structure shows what can be achieved with the printed word and I am trying to weave similar subplots in my novel, but in a different style.

A work in progress...22

2005-08-30T17:32:00.000+01:00

Having my first doubts about the book. After all the early momentum I seem to be running out of steam. It's starting to feel confused, I'm not sure if its making sense - What happens, why it happens? I need to ask myself these questions and try and keep it simple. I'm going to try and write another 30,000 words and hopefully all the bits will then fall into place. The only way to do this is bring the laptop with me to work and write on the train. I feel as though I just need to write the damn thing, not worry too much about the editing at this stage, just get all the foundations down. There are some good bits, of that I'm sure. One thing I'm not certain about is detail, how much to put in or leave out. It's trial and error, I guess. I want to try and get a first draft done by Christmas. I should just write for the joy of writing, and not worry about the bigger issues. I've been working on the book now for eight months so I must see it through to the end. I can't give up at this stage with 60,000 words written.
The Bank Holiday weekend was hot, with glorious sunshine - played in the pool in the garden with the kids most of the time. Had a great time, it was good to switch off.

A work in progress...21

2005-08-26T14:59:00.000+01:00

Finished the magazine today and feeling inspired about the book. We have a long weekend as it's a holiday on monday in the UK and would like to get some writing done, although this may prove difficult as the kids and my wife will no doubt have other ideas. If the weather's good I may take them to the beach one day. I also hope to do some yoga, I feell I need warrior energy, to help me write - and I want to go out on my bike. Not sure how I'll fit everything in.
I stayed at Al's last night, where I went for week to write in the summer. It was good to see him and elizabeth. We went for a couple of drinks in Greenwhich and then went back to the flat for a few more beers, some good grass and The Who by Numbers. Made it into work realtively unscathed this morning and feeling sharp and inspired. I also feel like playing drums again - I have this urge to play in jazz band and be totally free of pressure and responsibility. I've just got paid and I'm totally skint, which is depressing. May have to take on some freelance work.

A work in progress...20

2005-08-22T13:46:00.000+01:00

The family arrived back from their holiday last Thursday so I spent the weekend catching up with them. I took my children swimming, bike riding an too McDonald's etc and had a good time. I put the book on the back-burner, didn't even open the laptop all weekend. Talked about making an imovie about my wife, who's an artist and would make a fascinating subject, and would throw some insights into the creative process. Trying to set my book in the prestent, ie the last four months and write about real events such as the london bombings and LIve8.
This will give some athenticity to my main character, who suffers a breakdown which is precipitated by real events. It needs a bit of a rethink, and I'm struggling to bring all the disparate sections I've written into one narrative. However, if I get the core of the story right, everything else should slot into place. I have been writing it now for eight months, which is nothing, I know, but I can feel the nergy waning. This week I'm on deadline at work, so I'm not going to be able to do much work. I need to bring my laptop on the train with me and starting writing everyday again, and get at least one draft finished.
Woody Allen was filming in our office last week. Apparently his film is set in a newspaper office, so he used ours. Had my manuscript being ready I would have tried to pass him a copy.
Just writing this blog is giving me inspiration. I must keep going.

A work in progress...19

2005-08-16T12:23:00.000+01:00

The writing's stalled a bit. I'm still working on the book almost everyday but not writing as much. I'm working on the relationship of the two characters, which is going to be short and brief, rather than anything longterm with history.

I had an amzing time in London. Went to bed about 6am on Saturday morning and then spent the rest of the day hanging out in a couple of bars and pubs in the Brick Lane area of London, reading the papers and chatting with James and Nikki. It's was great not to have to worry about the kids for once. I got home late on Saturday night and spent Sunday hungover on the sofa watching cricket. I feel guilty as I should have spent the time writing, but I got a lot of inspiration from the weekend, met some characters and experienced new stuff which helped me reconnect with that kind of scene. There was a real energy in the bars and clubs I went in, although the rave scene seemed slighty more tame than I remembered. It was a friendly vibe though, with more coke on the scene rather than ecstasy. James played a full-on 3-hour set, which was awesome, he had the dancefloor with him all the way, never let up. Respect.

As a result I've come back to the novel with renewed energy and will use some of the material I gleaned from the weekend.

A work in progress...18

2005-08-11T21:21:00.000+01:00

On Wednesday met up with my friend James and his girlfriend Niki for a beer in Clerkenwell after work. The family are in Germany still and I'm missing them. I couldn't get a cheap flight out of London so I'm staying at home and writing. While they're away, I can't seem to concentrate. I've got a couple of days off and I spent the day in the garden listening to the cricket and working, but actually wrote very little. I have managed to work out a structure and timeline for the novel which has made it easier. I'm also trying to focus on the two main characters and their intense, physical and ultimately short relationship. James is a DJ and editor of a music mag. He was best man at my wedding, and is a talented and beautiful guy, with an equally talented and beautiful girlfriend. He's invited me to his gig at Turnmills on Friday night. I would love to see him play and also get a feel for the club scene, as my raving days are just a memory. I've also featured Turnmills in a scene in the book, so it would be good to go for research purposes. I intend to write all day Friday, get ready and go into London in the evening and stay over at James and Nikki's place in Bow. Its should be wild and stimulating. It's probably my one and only chance to see James play live. I'm really looking forward to it. I spoke to my wife, told her where I was going. She's totally cool: "Don't be over doing it and showing off," was her advice.

A work in progress...17

2005-08-05T21:46:00.000+01:00

My wife and family have gone to Germany today for a holiday. They are staying at at a friend's parents' house in the hills near Cologne. It's a beautiful house in an idyllic setting and I wish I was going with them. But I've just had three weeks off and have to be back at work; bad timing. I have the weekend to slob out, ride my bike, write and do some yoga. I also want to catch up on some Hong Kong films, I have a stack of them to watch, mainly Wong kar Wai films. The book is going well, I'm working on the structure and it's starting to take shape. I should be pleased to have more time to work on it, but the truth is I'm missing my family. They are away for nine days. It looks like this year we are not going to have a holiday. The book is taking over my life, sapping all my energy and time.I may try and get a flight to Germany next weekend. I'll see how the writing goes.

A work in progress...16

2005-08-01T11:42:00.000+01:00

Well the agent finally got back to me after almost two months. As soon as I saw the s.a.e. I knew that we would not be corresponding any further. His letter was quite polite, 'on balance' he didn't think he was the right agent for me...etc. He sent me a web link with a list of other agents and wished me well. I've sent my MS to another author friend for another opinion, and maybe she will be able to help with an agent. But maybe I'm jumping the gun, as the book is still not finished yet. Once it's complete I'm going to really concentrate on the publishing side, if I'm happy with the end result.

I've just got back to work after three weeks off, mainly spent at home writing. I stayed at my friends, Al & Elizabeth's for five days and was able to immerse myself in the work without any distractions from the family. Lewisham maybe off the literay map but the flat was ideal. As I mentioned previously I'm usuing its layout as the basis for the main charachter's flat so I got a real feel of the place. The flat is in a quiet side street and they have lots of Mark Rothko prints and photography on the walls. There's also lots of books and music and it was very close to Blackheath and Greenwhich. I practised yoga everyday, read and wrote, and cycled to Blackheath. London is such an inspiring city. I also had time to sit and think about the novel's shape and direction, so when I wasn't writing it was always at the forefront of my mind. The most extravagant think I did was rent 2001 Space Odyssey on DVD. There were some themes in the film that are similar to what I'm attempting to write, mainly composition, colour and symbols. And it was a decadent luxury to sit and watch it one afternoon when it was so hot outside, and absorb Kubrick's masterpiece and understand it for the first time, whithout falling asleep before the end. When I was leaving to go to London, my wife commented that my mood was as if I was going into hospital for an operation. I guess I was apprehensive about leaving the family, it felt really selfish and I was convinced that I was not going to be able to write anything while I was away. In the end I probably wrote about 15,000 words while I was there, and the novel in total is now at about 65,000 words; but doesn't seem nowhere near finished. It's still very disjointed, but at least I know in my head where it's going.

A work in progress...15

2005-07-11T21:50:00.000+01:00

It's been over a month now since I sent the first three chapters of my manuscript to the agent. Still no reply. Maybe this is a good sign, if it's been looked at and was considered garbage then maybe I would have had it returned by now? Maybe it's been moved to another pile marked 'Maybe'? Or more than likely it's still sitting at the bottom of the slushpile. It's fate intrigues me; I try not to think about it as I simply enjoy writing and I don't want to be distracted. On the otherhand, having an agent means my book will stand a good chance of finding a publisher, and isn't this what I want? Not so much fame, more kudos and spondulics.

I'm spending five days at my friends, Al & Elizabeth's this week. I was supposed to be looking after their cat, but sadly it looks as though he's gone to the great cat litter in the sky. Nevertheless, it's a great opportunity to write and I hope to get a first draft of the whole book completed. Their flat in Lewisham, London, is featured in my book so hopefully I will be inspired. I hope its going to be productive as it will be a bit weird being away from the family.

London

2005-07-07T19:13:00.000+01:00

I have just got back from London; I feel lucky to be alive I was on a bus at 10am and had to be evacuated - I was very close to the London bus that was blown up. My office is in the vicinity of all of the blasts and it was like walking through a war zone trying to get into work. I have been off work this week on holiday, but had to go in today for a meeting. I was actually feeling very excited about going into the capital ( I live 60 miles away) after we won the Olympic bid. London is such an inspiring city, and a strong, tough city. I'm sure it will recover.

Of course the meeting was cancelled and I didn't have much work to do. I left my office in Farringdon at 3.30pm after I heard the main Waterloo station had reopened, where I catch my train. On the street there were thousands of people all walking, trying to get home. All the buses, tube trains etc had stopped running and it was impossible to get a taxi so we had no choice but to walk. The walk was about 3 miles and it was quite sunny and pleasant. It was surreal to see so many people crossing Blackfriars Bridge, like something from a horror movie, except people were perfectly calm and seem to be taking the disaster in their stride.

I got to the station and found that trains out of London were running normally. I had a 5 minute wait before my train departed. It was a relief to get home; it all felt very real and quite scary but it has not put me off from working in the capital. I had been expecting something like this, as did everyone who commutes into London. Thank God it wasn't me this time.

A work in progress....14

2005-07-01T14:42:00.000+01:00

It's three weeks since I sent my manuscript to the agent. Still no reply, but I'm expecting it to be returned in the sae with a no thanks message. He advises to allow a month, so there is still hope, but with each passing day it diminishes. I work as a production editor on a political magazine and we have just gone to press with the July issue. We are not publishing an edition in August, which means I can take the whole of July off to write. This is my opportunity to finish the book. I am concentrating all my time and energy on it, as as I may not get another chance like this.
Today I have a huge hangover from celebrating finishing the magazine and my birthday. I stayed in London at my friend Al's place. We stayed up until about 2am playing Who records. It reminded us of being teenagers again. Music is so important to us, it is the one thing that made a difference in our lives and it's always great to revist The Who now and again as they were the ones that started it all for us. I feel inspired and confident. I want to do a lot of cycling in the hills, yoga and swimming while I'm off - and not drink too much. I need a clear head and lots of energy to do what I've go to do.

A work in progress...13

2005-06-29T13:30:00.000+01:00

Today is my birthday and I'm 42 years old. I got a card from daughter saying happy birthday "stupid punk" and one of a dinosaur on the front from my son. Sums it up really.
I have been writing from a very early age, I can remember writing cowboy stories when I was very young. I once wrote about a rape in one of my stories and I remember my dad going mental when he read it. Aged 8 or 9 I didn't understand the the exact meaning, but he never bothered to explain it to me - he ripped up the story and gave me a good hiding. I can't remember it putting me off, but I never persued writing as a career. I also learned to read at an early age. Treasure Island was the first book I ever read - and I read that with my dad, so there was some positive aspects of our relationship. After bumming about in bands I got into journalism, which seemed a happy compromise, but it took all my energy as I worked really hard and reached almost the top - or as far as I wanted to go. I remember when I met my wife 20 years ago I said I wanted to be a writer, and I feel that everything I have done is to get me to this stage. That's why I find writing so easy - of course it's hard work and intense, but I enjoy it and it doesn't seem like work. My journalism training has helped because I am a disciplined writer but I love the fact that I have creative freedom. I have written lots of poetry in the past, mainly because that's all I had time for and I enjoy the internal tension of the two disciplines struggling to get themselves heard in my writing.

A work in progress...12

2005-06-28T13:32:00.000+01:00

Very busy at work, so not much time to blog or write. The constant writing and revising of one section is driving me insane - I'm not sure I'm going to even use it in the book and I'm beginning to wonder how I got down this avenue. The Royal Horticultural Society sent me a link on how to construct a violin. I sent them a polite request for help with research and the material they have sent is fascinanting - to do with the wood used for the insturment. Why on earth I'm writing about the intricacies of building a violin I don't know; I seem to be heading off on various tangents, letting my imagination run wild and I'm continually surprised the way the story is unfolding. The journalist in me wants to rein these thoughts in, while the poet is saying 'keep going, keep going'.

A work in progress...11

2005-06-27T13:42:00.000+01:00

I didn't do much writing on the train today. The weekend was tiring - good friends of ours, Al & Elisabeth came to stay so we were busy entertaining. Al and I stayed up watching Glastonbury live on TV until 3am on Sunday morning and I was still feeling the after effects this morning. They bought me a DVD of the making of Smile by Brian Wilson as a birthday present. I mentioned that the kind of breakdown he expeperienced while making the album is similar to what the main character in my book goes through - so the DVD should be good for research and inspiration. I'm beginning to think the book is maybe becoming too complicated - it feels as though I am writing two books at the same time, and not sure I'll be able to tie the two together in a coherent form. All the scenes seem somehow disparate, maybe it will come together once all the narrative is complete. On a deadline at work this week, so I must try and focus all my energy there. I'm finding it very hard to concentrate on anything else but the book, I'm really enjoying writing it, but the process is mentally draining.

A work in progress...10

2005-06-24T12:14:00.000+01:00

Two weeks since I left my MS with the agent, still no word. I've got lots of revisions and notes to write up, but have a busy weekend so I doubt whether I'll spend much time on the book. Ideas just seem to flow and my writing, when I get chance, is contantly improving. I'm meeting my wife and we're off to the Frida Khalo exhibition at the Tate Modern this afternoon. The Tate Modern may feature in the ending of my novel. not sure yet. I find the the old Turbine Hall so inspiring - so hopefully I'll come away full of ideas. We may also go and check out the new Tracey Emin exhibition in London. As my novel is about an artist, I'm putting the afternoon down to research.

A work in progres...9

2005-06-23T15:56:00.000+01:00

Hot. Too hot to write too hot to work. I don't seem to have achieved much this week. I have been making lots of notes and revising along with researching on the internet, but do not feel as though the novel's progressed. I have another week of being busy at work, afer which I should be able to devote more time to the novel. Still not heard anything from the agent, which is also a niggle, I'm trying not to think about it, but I can't help it. Everyday I pass his office on the bus on my way to work and imagine my manuscript slowly making its way up the slush pile. It's probably still at the bottom - he's probably on holiday at his villa in France, leaving me sweating for the rest of the summer.

A work in progress...8

2005-06-22T14:10:00.000+01:00

I met up with Helen last night, whom I met briefly in Hong Kong a couple of years ago. She's a writer and has had a couple of books published. I showed her the first three chapters of my book before I sent it to the agent and she genuinely liked it and was very encouraging. She commented that my work seemed well researched and asked if I was an artist - I'm not but my main character is so it was a positive sign. She basically told me to hang on in there and not be too disappointed if I'm turned down by the first agent; she thought my book had a good chance of being accepted. Work is very busy and there seems lots of commitments on an evening so I'm not writing as much. I'm not too worried as I have most of July off and I intend to finish the book by end of August. For now I want to concentrate on the writing, my goal is to write about 80,000 words. I must stay postitive and keep focussed, I feel so close to achieving my ambition and I'm really enjoying writing.

A work in progress...7

2005-06-21T14:04:00.000+01:00

Some days my writing seemes so pedestrian, I write like a journalist instead of a poet. Progress is slow. The trains are hot and insufferable, and the ones out of Waterloo on an evening are full of noisy tourists heading to Salisbury and the west country. I seem to be stuck on one section of the book, which is throwing up quite a few surprises, so I must stick with it.

A work in progress...6

2005-06-20T14:20:00.000+01:00

I managed to do a bit of revision over the weekend and that was it. There's not much time to write when you have two small children who demand your attention after not seeing you all week. Funny, the times when I have spent on my own away from the family I don't produce anything. I realised long ago that they are my inspiration and I try and devote as much time as possible to them. Working at home is a problem though, as I don't have a dedicated workspace. My wife uses the only available spare room as a studio and I have to write either in the lounge, on the kitchen table or at a desk on the landing outside the kids' bedrooms. The kids regard me as just another plaything and I'm often decked out in a pink wig or assailed with plastic insects as I try and write. My chair has also been used as a tunnel for a train track, and quite often I have to endure the Grease soundtrack blasing out of my daughter's room. Not surprisngly I try and stay clear of the landing when the children are in residence. This weekend was also very hot, and it was father's day yesterday. I got to spend some time with my son and we went off on our own. I showed him how to ride his bike without the use of stabilisers and felt almost as proud as he did when he showed off his new skill to the rest of the family.

A work in progress...5

2005-06-17T14:15:00.000+01:00

It's been a week now since I sent the agent the first three chapters of my manuscript. On the day I dropped it in, there was a timely article published in the Guardian, subject: 'How to make a book'. It claimed 100,000 books are published in the UK each year. The article covered the whole process of publishing from the author having the initial idea in a pub, to its writing and eventual publication. Here's an excerpt:

"The hunger to be published gnaws powerfully enough at a sufficient number of people that between 30 and 40 unsolicited proposals arrive every single day at the London offices of the American literary agency Janklow & Nesbit. The "slush pile" is not an efficient route to literary fame: Claire Paterson, one of Janklow's two primary UK agents, found only one of her current 40-odd clients that way. Gallingly perhaps for all those would-be published authors."

I know it takes time, it's not like a job application where you expect to hear a reply pretty much straight away from a prospective employer and maybe my MS will get read - who knows?

A work in progress...4

2005-06-16T13:58:00.000+01:00

Since my laptop crashed I have so far refrained from taking it on the train with me. Instead I revise pages that I've printed out at home on a night and write new bits to scenes in my notebook, a Moleskine, bought from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. The notebook is more like a valuable friend, and goes absolutely everywhere with me. My favourite writing tool is a Zebra Drafix Auto Pencil, it's such a wonderful instrument, I believe draughtsmen use it and it's great for constructing a novel; plus you don't need a sharpener, which is good when you're working on a train. I can write just as well on the laptop, but I enjoy watching the organic flow of words onto the paper through the HB lead. It slows me down and makes me think about what I'm actually writing. I've been working all week on a couple of pages, editing and revising, it seems painstakingly slow but the result are impressive. I have polished 10,000 words and have about 60-70,000 to go. Daunting.

A work in progress...3

2005-06-15T14:20:00.000+01:00

As I mentioned in my last post, by April 19 I had written more than 55,000 words and seemed unstoppable. Then disaster struck. My laptop had a seizure, both cooling fans on the motherboard packed in and the battery burned out. For four months solid I had been usuing it on the train for up to three hours a day, then working long into the night and constantly at weekends - even just to play music - and I guess it simply said 'enough'. It cost me £400 to repair. Luckily I had saved my work on a disc.
The laptop was out of action for a month. During the enforced hiatus I did some editing and revising. When I printed out my work it looked as though it was written by a crack addict: bereft of paragraphs or indents it was a huge slab of text, 120 pages of A4, with scenes written randomly and no begining or end. I had an old desktop PC at home with a Chinese keyboard, which I began using, working long into the night and reading the pages on the train the next morning. I was making good progress and had managed to write the opening chapter, when disaster struck again. The desktop PC refused to boot up - and worse still the last thing I did was save my updates on a floppy, which had been corrupted by the crash. I lost about 5,000 words - by chance I had manage to print a hard copy of the section. If there's nothing more I hate in life it's having to do things twice. I was down to writing with a pad and pencil on the train, and thought if they are taken away from me I'll end up scrawling on the carriage walls like the Marquis de Sade in the film Quills. I got my laptop back on May 16 and restored the missing section and knocked into shape the opening three chapters and a synopsis, which I sent to the agent on Friday, June 10.

A work in progress...2

2005-06-14T17:27:00.000+01:00

While I wait for the agent to get back to me I continute to write. I have written about 60,000 words so far and not sure how many more words it will take to finish - I could easily write another 60,000, but I want to keep the book relatively short with no flab. I have been on a roll writing since I started my book on January 19 2005, which by coincidence - or not - was my daughter's birthday. By April 19 I had written 55,000 words. Not bad to say I work full time as a production editor for a newspaper in London and have two small children, who take up most of my 'free' time. At the moment I'm editing and revising, but have the novel pretty much mapped out in my head.
I write mainly on the train into London. The journey takes about 90 minutes, which is insane I know, but I get to spend two hours a day writing on my laptop, while my fellow commuters snooze, read or play various card games on their laptops. It feels good to be using my time so productively and I have overcome the intitial paranoia of writing surrounded by a load of strangers. Although I felt a bit uncomfortable writing the scene when two of the characters indulged in a spot of anal sex.

A work in progress...

2005-06-13T10:56:00.000+01:00

I sent the first three chapters of my novel to a literary agent in London on Friday. I got his name via a publishing company's website, he sounded an all right kinda guy. I sent him an introductory email, which so far he has not responded to - and I also sent him a copy of the manuscript, which I delivered to his office by hand. Right now it's probably sat at the bottom of a "slush pile" and I don't feel too optimistic about its chances - despite encouragement from a published author, a friend of a friend, who said my story was an intriguing idea and well written. Fingers crossed I hit pay dirt first time.

Elegant Pisser

2004-12-31T09:01:00.000Z

Can a urinal be a work of art?

When Marcel Duchamp’s ‘elegant pisser’ was nominated the world’s most influential piece of modern art it highlighted once again our love-hate relationship with the loo. For some the modern plumbing system is a work of art in itself and the toilet one of man’s greatest inventions – up there with the wheel and printing press.

Although Duchamp’s Fountain scandalized polite society when it was first shown in 1917 and inspired the concept of low art, the porcelain pot, because of its very function in society, has been locked away in a dark room and only used on a needs must basis. The first time a toilet scene was shown in a mainstream movie was in 1960 in Psycho in the clean up shot after the famous shower scene.

But when the humble lavatory breaks out of its self-imposed stretch of solitary it does so in headline-grabbing style. Two of the more famous examples are in 1977 when the King of rock ‘n’ roll was literally toppled from his throne and died on the bathroom floor with his bum sticking up in the air. And then there was George Michael’s little act of indiscretion in a Beverly Hills ‘comfort station’ in 1998 when he was arrested for going solo in a lewd act by an undercover cop. This prompted one of the best ever headlines in the Sun newspaper: Zip me up before you go go.

Some people have a real fear or embarrassment of going to the toilet, especially public conveniences and when you see stuff like the ‘worst toilet in Scotland’ in Trainspotting it’s enough to scare anyone shitless. One of the worst fears is being caught without any toilet paper so spare a thought for Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon 2 when he goes on his - only to find those naughty bad guys have planted a bomb under the khazi that is liable to go off on any plop. John Travolta in Pulp Fiction got caught coming out of the crapper looking like he’d just shot-up, which he probably had, only to get blown away by Bruce Willis.

The funniest toilet gag in the movies has to be in Naked Gun when Leslie Nielson goes for an extra long squirt with his lapel mike still on and the audience is treated to all the sound effects that blokes tend to do at the urinal.

Going to the toilet is a guilty pleasure, a place of piece and quiet, for contemplation and reading. For all we know Beach Boy Brian Wilson may have found inspiration for Good Vibrations while enjoying a quiet moment; it’s amazing where and when the muse can strike. Alexander Chase once declared: “Psychiatry’s chief contribution to philosophy is the discovery that the toilet is the seat of the soul.” A friend of mine, a magazine editor, swears that he gets all his best ideas for headlines and stories while sat on the bog.

Kurt Cobain revelled in all things scatological and recently actor Bob Hoskins revealed at the British Independent Film Awards that he reads scripts he is sent in the bathroom. "I take it to the loo. If I've suddenly got a cold bum, I think, 'hello, this must be a good script'. So it gets the cold bum test - that's the only way," he said. And in Uma Thurman’s reasoning never forget to flush: “It’s better to have a relationship with someone who cheats on you than with someone who does not flush the toilet.” So that’s why things didn’t work out between her and Gary.

Of course there are other things one can do in the loo apart from excretory functions and it can be a seat of power: “I was the one sat in the toilets and smoked and made the other girls cry,” said Tracey Ullman of her early years.

Back to Duchamp, who started this train of thought anyway. Can a urinal be a work of art? In an article by Max Podstolski on Spark-online he argues, “While the urinal was certainly not intended as an aesthetic object, it clearly emerged as a brilliantly-paradoxical aesthetic concept.” In the cause of artistic freedom an ordinary urinal had, in effect been metamorphosed into artwork. “It was no longer what it used to be, a ‘pisser’ in the vernacular,” says Podsolski, “because it had been disconnected (literally and figuratively) from its usual toilet context. It no longer existed to be pissed into, and there were no more pipes to drain the waste liquid away.”

Because there was no direct functional relationship, the act of peeing became symbolic and viewers, male ones anyway, were reminded of the sensations on viewing the object. “While the actual physical object is totally static, the concept of it as an artwork sets into motion a mental conundrum which is analogous to the 'ghost in the machine' of mind and body,” says Podsolski. “A person is not just a body, but a body with a mind. Similarly Fountain is not just a urinal, but a urinal activated in our minds by being an artwork.”

Although I’ve had lots of nasty experiences in toilets and had a bit of a phobia about going as a child, the best public toilet experience ever has got to be in The Peninsula hotel in Hong Kong. Take the lift up to the 28th floor to the Felix bar, designed by Philippe Starck. If the interior design and views doesn’t grab you – guys at least can visit the bathroom where a wonderful experience awaits when they take a leak. Part of the experience is the element of surprise so I won’t spoil it but enough to say if you want to piss on the world, then here’s the place to do it.

The Kids Are Alright

2004-12-30T21:10:00.000Z

The story of Rough Mix and of love and friendship

"The committee’s just taken a vote," said the club’s secretary," as the band was packing up its equipment. "It was our best night for takings in ages, can you lads play again next Saturday?" He was a piggish looking man with glazed over eyes, purple face, hunched up shoulders and a gait only achievable from a constant diet of beer and pies. We looked at each other and laughed: he had no idea who we were and how far we had come to play this gig. It had been 15 years since we split and the venue for our reunion was the legendary Crescent Working Men’s Club in York. The occasion was Al, the singer-songwriter’s 40th birthday, and he had decided to get the band back together for one last gig.

On satellite TV there is a programme on one of the music channels called Bands Reunited. Usually the presenter tries to get together the members of say Squeeze for a one-off gig. Invariably it fails because the fall out between personnel has been too bitter, the wounds too deep and egos damaged beyond repair. Maybe if Rough Mix had stayed together and become rich and famous, we would no longer be friends. At the time the realization that we were never going to make it was a huge disappointment and luckily we ended it before it got really nasty. We were working class kids and playing in a band was supposed to be our salvation. It was not as if we’d gone to college and could something else: we couldn’t. The band was our whole life and when it was finally over - there’s only so much lugging of equipment and playing shitty venues for little or no money that you can take - it was a case of ‘oh fuck, what do we do now?’

Rough Mix, named after a Pete Townshend/Ronnie Lane album, never set the rock world alight in terms of achieving mega-stardom, but the group was tight. Like all the great bands such as The Who and U2 we were friends first and had known each other at school and playing in a band represented a way out of the mediocrity of life without privileges. There is a bond that it is hard to break and although I had turned my back on the band a long time ago, we were still firm friends and at the end of the day that is all that really counts. We may not have achieved U2’s global success, but the reunion gig was on a par with Zooropa in terms of organization – I flew in from Hong Kong to play drums, Olly, the bass player, was living in Holland; Al lived in London and Dave (lead guitar) resided in Teeside.

I had given up music for good when the band split and had no regrets and never looked back. After years of struggling as a musician I became totally disillusioned with the music business and found playing in a band frustrating because I felt I did not have control over my destiny. In a band you have to rely on others, and when the others are less committed than you are then you are fucked. Although they were my mates, I was glad to see the back of them at the time; from now on it was every man for himself. At least with journalism I could dictate my own future and if I failed I only had myself to blame. The fact that I found my new career just as enjoyable and exciting as rock’n’roll enabled me to bury the past like a callous executioner, I tossed away the rear-view mirror and found another road less travelled to get me where I wanted to be. But I also found you can never really let rock ‘n’ roll go; the vibe of being on stage in front of an audience is a feeling quite unlike any other I have experienced. When it’s good it’s very good and for a few hours you are no longer the little insecure guy, struggling to make sense of the world. You are at the centre of the universe, elevated to a higher level, a creative genius: and the girls were good too.

I now understand that playing in a band was never about making it in the first place. It was all about finding an identity, a direction and focus. It is testimony to the band that we all went on to do other things when our short but sweet music career was over: we carried the creative energy on and each of us achieved success on an individual level. I became a journalist, Al went into audio-visual, Dave is a teacher and Olly a photographer. When we got together again we may have been respectable professionals with families, but we were really still punks at heart. Although we had gone our separate ways since the band split, we had stayed in touch, meeting up occasionally even though at one time we were all living in different countries. I had known Al and Olly since school and our friendship stretches back 30 years. We picked up Dave in London, a brilliant guitarist from Dublin and persuaded him to move to York and join Rough Mix. His Stones’ influence helped counter- balance the all too persuasive Who style that the three of us had grown up with. Dave could play the blues as good as anyone. His formative years were spent listening to fellow Dubliners U2 and he was all rock ‘n’ roll and therefore had our total respect as a musician and a geezer.

For a time Rough Mix was a five-piece with Andy Reed playing acoustic guitar and vocals. In many ways Andy was the heart and soul of the band; he had a wide-eyed innocence and laidback persona that you couldn’t help but love, and he lived for the Mix. He looked and sang like Tom Petty, wrote songs like Bob Dylan and had the melancholy of Neil Young, but he was one of those guys who just couldn’t be in a band. The dynamics, egos, stress of playing live and all the other general bullshit that goes with being in a group with three or more people means that not everyone can handle it. Sadly he died of a heart attack two years before the reunion and he was missed at the gig – which was also in his memory.

The schedule was hectic. I arrived on the Tuesday night and started rehearsals the following day. There was no time to get over the jetlag - it was straight down to work. The gig was on Saturday and I’d completely forgotten the set. Luckily I had been playing drums in a band in Hong Kong for the past year, so I felt relatively sharp and easily slipped back in the groove. What I wasn’t prepared for was the weather. After six years living abroad I had forgotten how cold the north of England could be in January. It didn’t help matters that I was completely unprepared in the clothing department and essentially I wore all the clothes that I brought with me at the same time, all of the time. The rehearsal room was a disused barn in the middle of nowhere and we were almost stranded on a couple of occasions during severe snowstorms. I was at the wheel when the car almost landed in a ditch as we attempted to drive through snowdrifts three feet high down a narrow farm track.

As with all rehearsal rooms there was little comfort inside. A measly fan heater blew air about as warm as your breath around a cold cavernous space. It wasn’t until we generated our own body heat that the place warmed up and I began to strip off the layers as the band started to cook. The place stank of stale beer, farts and cigarettes. A half-eaten pastie was turning mouldy on the floor-tom next to a crowded ashtray. It reminded me of previous times in damp cellars, beer and BO, which somehow never bothered us when we were young. ‘Where’s the fun in this?’ I thought to myself as I desperately tried to get the blood circulating through my fingers so I could hold the sticks. But it is in such conditions that the best music is made. When there’s energy and harmony the music transcends its surroundings and when the band gels it doesn’t matter that the performance is taking place in a cowshed. At first we played as a trio – drums, bass and rhythm guitar. Dave was due to join us on lead guitar later in the week so for two days it was just the three of us, the way it was 25 years ago when we started out as young punks. At first we were apprehensive, nervous even, and we started by exploring safe territory by revisiting Substitute by The Who. It was the first song we ever learnt and we played it with energy and passion, no bum notes, no missed beats; we were ecstatic. This rehearsal time was the most enjoyable part of the week. The sessions were relaxed and it gave us an opportunity to reconnect. The village pub had a blazing fire, served fantastic food, and handpulled Sam Smith’s beer. Outside the scene was of a winter wonderland; the village pond had frozen over and the branches of the trees buckled under the weight of snow. We talked about the old days, of growing up together and the numerous adventures we’d experienced along the way. We were all in long-term relationships and we talked about fatherhood, commitment, shared dreams and individual successes and failures.

Everyone was on top form; Al had carried his songs in his head and heart for such along time and did a fitting job as musical director. Olly had been relentlessly practising his bass parts for the past 12 months, playing along to old demos and live recordings. I was on fire behind the kit and was confident and solid once I’d learnt the arrangements, which had long been buried in my past. The missing ingredient in the Mix was Dave’s lead guitar. He hadn’t picked up the instrument in years and was a little rusty and nervous. He had got pissed on the train and arrived at the rehearsal room worse for wear after a stressful day teaching. It must have been daunting for him to arrive and see us playing so tight, we had had two days to work on the rhythm section and we were hot. It’s as if the brashness of youth had been transformed into controlled energy, the music was powerful and it all seemed so simple and uncomplicated. Dave soon found his guitar chops again and once he’d worked out the chords he played with his old genius. At last we were finally ready to meet our audience.

The Crescent WMC was close to where I lived as a child and I remember going with my dad, mum and sister on bank holidays. Flying in from Hong Kong to play there proved to be a surreal and emotional experience. I remembered the bingo, crap bands playing Mud and Shawaddywaddy covers, the horse racing on television and general drunkenness. The club’s best days were behind it. The décor looked the same as it did 30 years ago. The floral print wallpaper in the concert room had been suffocated by nicotine; the borders were hanging off and the upholstery was obscenely ripped. I remember the table where my sister and I sat; it was always the same one facing the stage at the back of the room. I sat there and recognised the same gold curtains behind the stage and I could hear the bingo caller, the noise from the bar and the excited shouts of “HOUSE!" I looked inside the bingo-caller’s booth and saw a CD of Alvin Stardust’s Greatest Hits.

In the foyer a badly hand written poster for a forthcoming event read:
Tuesday
Line Dancing
Book Early For This One & Bring Yer Own Grub
£5

Disaster struck almost as soon as we arrived in the afternoon to set up. The club’s ancient wiring system was obviously not up to the demands of a 21st century rock gig and the lighting rig blew the electrics. We were hardly planning a Who-style show with lasers, but never mind, the place was in darkness for two hours until someone managed to locate the key for the fusebox. My mood was darkening and I was beginning to have second thoughts about the whole thing. The humping of gear, the hanging around for sound checks, frayed nerves, terrible tempers, clashing egos, all the bullshit that seems to go with being in a band came back to me and now I understood why I didn’t miss the whole rock ‘n’ roll circus. I needed to get out; the place was becoming claustrophobic and full of too many bad memories. I went to the Chip Shop opposite and it was there that I heard the Shuttle had crashed on its approach back into the atmosphere. It was teatime on a Saturday and people were queuing out of the door. News spread down the queue, but unfortunately the message got confused with the local shuttle-bus for the park-and-ride shoppers. "I’ve just seen it leave," exclaimed one chap, "it’s just passed by here a minute ago." Outside, a snowstorm was blowing and for some reason I was reminded of the suffering in the seige of Stalingrad. I wished I was back in Hong Kong: York was beginning to close in on me again and I was reminded why I left in the first place.

I always knew that I would leave and music had helped paved the way for my escape.

The gig was really a private party and there were people in the audience that I hadn’t seen for 15 years or more. With the place packed and the lights down, the club took on a semi-semblance of a rock venue and my mood started to lift as I got into the music. I felt as though I’d peaked a day earlier in rehearsal and the combination of the jetlag kicking in, the emotional turmoil of the occasion, the exhaustion of three days’ rehearsals and the late nights had taken their toll. I was playing on nervous energy and I was lucky that the band were all up for it. Al sang as if his life depended on it, Olly had matured into a solid and dependable bass player and we locked into a groove that somehow eluded us first time around. Dave’s guitar leads soared: I had always admired his playing and he had to dig deep to reach such majestic heights. You was a classic song and it was the first tune we ever played together. I hadn’t heard anything like it until The Libertines came along with Can’t Stand Me Now. Like the Libertines’ single, You starts with a lengthy intro and builds and builds with energy and passion and a sense that it could not possibly be sustained until the end of the song and the whole thing is literally going take off before its climatic end. We played two Who covers, Substitute and the fitting Kids Are Alright and some of our own classics, Kind Of Love Song, I’m Sorry, With Respect, the haunting Have You Ever, Flame and the punk piledriver Boys & Girls. The most poignant song in the set was Things I Know, with the line: ‘I know a few people I couldn’t live without’.

Rough Mix was back. We had lost some friends on the way, but the core of the group was still strong and the group was not only comprised of the four people on stage but many of those in the audience who had supported us and believed in us at the time. The band brought us all together, it was a common bond and many of us in and around it had drawn inspiration from its energy. Music was undoubtedly the driving force and the catalyst for such great times and fantastic memories. Without music I would not have seen the world through a different perspective and I would not have had the confidence to make something out of my life. More importantly I would not have met the people whom I love so dearly.

The Kids Are Alright.

Andy Reed 1963-2000