Author Intrusion

Friday, February 15, 2008

For One Day Only

Friday, January 25, 2008

The Curse of the Creative Itch

What is it with me? I had five must-do projects already. But here's the thing - you never know were a new trail will lead. And you can't pass one by untried.

It's like when I'm writing long fiction. I have a general idea of where I am going. But if new characters pop up out of nowhere and do unexpected things, I'm too curious to stop them. Is that any different from the situation where I have five projects on the go and a sixth flits into view? I have to follow. Both cases are manifestations of the same character trait. Creativity, I like to call it. Lack of focus is what others say.

So there I am, having a perfectly rational week, editing the book on dyslexia that I stumbled upon writing just before Christmas, when a shape shifts on the periphery of my mind. Not an idea - that would suggest something formed. This is a half-formed thing, or less. Suggested initially by another writer, Ms D.

Well, Ms D. and I batted this formless thing back and forth across the Internet for a couple of days and it started to have shape and colour. And wouldn't you know it, I now have six must-do projects to follow and I'm grinning with the pleasure of discovery.

That creative itch.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Gone Fishing

There are two unusual things about writing this film review. The first is that Gone Fishing is a short. The second is that I have to declare an interest. I’m an associate producer - one among a very large number of others.

But then, there are plenty of unusual things about this movie. Shot in widescreen by a hugely experienced director of photography, Vernon Leyton, it presents itself as a Hollywood epic. But no Hollywood moguls were behind its creation. Last year, Chris Jones, of the Guerrilla Filmmakers Handbook fame, sent out word that he was going to make a short film good enough to win an Oscar. Anyone who wanted to be involved had only to donate £50 and become one of the associate producers. If they were film professionals, they could give their time and expertise as well. All for free, of course.

It says much about the character of Chris Jones and the strength of his vision that the money came flowing in from around the world. So did the people. And last night hundreds of them, along with many of the great and the good, attended the world premier of Gone Fishing at BAFTA in London.

The film follows an elderly man who is coming to terms with bereavement, helped by a young boy and their shared love of fishing. It was the cinematic scale of the movie that hit me first - the epic widescreen vistas, the depth and subtlety of colour, the crisp and powerful soundtrack. The gravity of Bill Patterson’s performance as the bereaved man is beautifully counterpointed by the innocence of the young boy, played by James Wilson.

But all this cinematic and acting excellence would be useless if the story itself failed to deliver. The magic of narrative is, and always has been, its ability to take an audience from their ordinary lives and immerse them in another world, in other people’s emotions.
To do this within 10 minutes is a big ask. Perhaps that is why so many short films are deal with shock. Easier to write a short about vampires or suicide than one dealing with subtle emotional transitions.

And yet Gone Fishing delivers an emotional load that matches its aspirations. I, along many others in the packed audience, laughed in moments of humour and felt the prickle of forming tears as the story delivered its promise.

If you have a chance to see this truly beautiful short film, grab it. And watch out for Chris Jones in the future. If he can deliver this in 10 minutes, what will he be able to do in a feature length movie?

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Dyslexia and Emotional Memory

This is a question that has been puzzling me for years. If you know anything about the dyslexic brain - either as an expert or an owner - please take a moment to write a comment below.

It's like this: I am dyslexic. I have a cluster of abilities and disabilities that fit beautifully with the classic description of the condition. But I also have one or two other attributes that seem far enough off the norm to be noteworthy, which I haven't seen mentioned in books on dyslexia. One of these is an ability to recall emotions. I call it 'emotional memory'. It is tied closely with a very strong sense of empathy - whereby I tend to pick up on other people's emotional state very easily.

I use this in my writing, of course. If I am writing about a character in a certain situation, I find I know what they would be feeling and start to feel it myself. Then all I have to do is write it down. Not always pleasant for me, but it seems to work.

I have asked experts if this emotional memory is related to dyslexia. They say 'no'. But I am not so sure. I have known several highly empathetic dyslexics. Also, I'm not sure that this would be easy to test in a scientific study. And even if it could be tested, it doesn't relate to the process of learning to read and write, so may not be of interest to the educational establishment.

So how about it? Are you dyslexic? Do you find you know what people are feeling before others do? Or maybe you are a dyslexic and don't pick up on other people's feelings. Either answer would be interesting to me. Are you an expert on dyslexia? Have you read a study on this subject that concludes one way or the other? Any input would be valuable.

I'm looking forward to hearing from you.

Dyslexia and Disability

It happens like this: I'm filling in an application form for a job or a writers' residency or anything that I really, really want. I go through all the stuff about qualifications and experience and why I'm the perfect person for whatever it is. And then I get to a box marked 'Disability'.

The organization I am applying to will probably have a policy of interviewing all the disabled candidates who can tick the other required boxes. Dyslexia is officially a disability. If I put a tick there, I am extremely likely to make it to the next stage.

And I should be able to tick the box. I have problems with my short term memory. I can't sequence events very well or know when a word is misspelled or remember people's names or hold visual information in my head or track the flow of time. This is my dyslexia. It is an inherited cluster of problems. A specific disability.

But...

I don't regard myself as disabled - whatever the official description of dyslexia may say. Sure, I'd like to be able to remember stuff better and do all those neat things with time that everyone else seems to manage without effort. But I wouldn't give up my sense of three dimensional space - which seems to be another of the cluster of dyslexic attributes. (I won't call them symptoms). It is the way I experience the world. It is a sense akin to touch, in that it can feel textures. Akin to sight, in that it operates over any distance. X-ray sight, in that it can penetrate walls and ceilings, experience the texture of the bricks or slates I know to be on the other side. It is an abiding sense of the shape and feel of the spaces all around me.

What about that box on the form? Maybe I put a tick in it and write a note on the side to explain. Assuming they can read my bad handwriting.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Those CAN awards

A picture, they say, is worth a thousand words. Of course, that may have been said by a visual artist, rather than writers. But who knows?

Anyway, here is a picture from the recent Leicester International Short Film Festival. It shows Gav, Alex and myself proudly holding the two awards won by Pixacillus. Bav, unfortunately had had to leave before the pic was taken.

Self satisfied? Maybe. Can you blame us for enjoying the moment?

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Missing Persons

Here is a blog article well worth looking at if you are interested in crime writing. A good bit of research into missing persons. http://theonlyconsequence.blogspot.com/2007/11/interview-with-pi.html

Monday, November 05, 2007

Pixacillus scoops at CAN

It's gone midnight but I can't sleep, so I thought I'd post this brief message on the blog. I've just got back from the Leicester International Short Film Festival ('CAN' to its friends). My short film, Pixacillus, picked up the Audience Choice Award and the Creative Leicestershire Award. So thank you to the audience and to Creative Leicestershire for that.

I say 'my' film. In reality it belongs to BRAG Films. You can find out more about BRAG and CAN by following the links above.

Sunday, November 04, 2007

Planned a Crime Novel in a Morning

A quick report back on the Grace Dieu workshop yesterday.

This workshop - planning a crime novel - is the one that gives me the most fear in prospect. What if the participants aren't responsive? What if they don't come up with any ideas for the novel plan? What if they come up with an idea that just isn't going to work?

This is the fourth time I have given this workshop, so I should know better by now (or is it the fifth?). Every group is brimming full of ideas to fit into crime novels. Worryingly, may of these ideas concern methods of killing people - though the ability to think these things and talk about them is probably very healthy. (At least, I hope so. :-) ) Either way, the group yesterday came up with a great outline for a crime story. A murder victim with a multi-layered past. Someone we don't meet in the story, but who would nevertheless have cast a long
shadow over everything that happened.

Home in the evening and exhausted. Riding the wild horse of this particular workshop does tend to leave me mentally zapped. Happy though.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Planning a Crime Novel in a Morning

On Saturday morning, I'm heading back to see my friends at the Grace Dieu writers' group to give a crime writing workshop. Perhaps I should correct that statement. It isn't really going to be a workshop about writing. We'll be playing around with crime stories. We'll be planning a novel - working out the main moments of change that will drive the story forward. But I don't think we'll be doing much writing. I suppose the term would be storycraft.

Then, on Saturday afternoon, I'm going to be attending a comedy writing workshop given by the writer Mary Essinger. That, I am much looking forward to.

And then on Saturday and Sunday evenings there is CAN - the Leicester International Short Film Festival when all the people who took part in making Pixacillus will have a chance to see it on the big screen.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Learning to read

Last night was the second of our 2 launch events for the Crime Express books. I arrived at Waterstones in Nottingham half an hour before the event was due to kick off. "I'm here for the book launch," I told the man at the desk. He pointed to the ceiling. "It's right up at the top," he said. So I started climbing. Floor after floor. Certainly the tallest Waterstones I've ever visited. And right up under the roof - I love attics - a delightful meeting room.

It takes time, I

find, to learn how to read a piece of writing out loud to an audience. Writing that works off the page is not necessarily the same as writing that works when read out, in performance, as it were. First I choose the passage - something that takes no explanation and leaves the reader wanting more. Then I edit with a highlighting pen, choosing which sentences to read and which can be left out. Then I wait till the house is empty and I practice. Reading it aloud. Trying to find the pace and pauses that I think will make it work. That might get me close. But it is only when you read it in front of an audience that you find out.

Last night was my third time reading the opening of The Mentalist. I think I am starting to get it right. Hugely enjoyable.

All of which seems particularly ironic. One of my greatest nightmares as a child was being asked to read in front of the class at school.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

The Mentalist

I have a new book coming out this month. Fiction. But not a novel. Too short for that. It is published as part of a new series of one-sitting crime reads by Five Leaves Press, along with books by John Harvey and Stephen Booth.

My story is about a struggling stage psychic called Harry Gysel. Things aren't going well for Harry. His career as a performer may be about to founder before ever really getting going. Then one night he appears to predict the death of a member of one of his audiences. When she is found murdered the next day, he achieves instant celebrity status, but his troubles are just about to begin.

If you are near Leicester on the 18th October 07, do come along to the Adult Education College on Wellington Street and join John Harvey, Stephen Booth and myself for the launch of our books. The event starts at 7.00pm. There will be a second launch event the following Tuesday evening at Waterstones in Nottingham.

(And if you are in Derby on October 20th, do come along to my writing workshop at the museum).

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Yarns

If you've followed this blog over the last couple of years, you'll probably have figured by now that I am fascinated by stories and what they mean to people. I've long wanted to spend some time on a creative project to do with narrative itself - as a subject.

The question people often ask when they have just been told a story is - 'is it true?'. Important though that question is, a simple answer, yes or no could well be misleading. Made up stories can contain truths. Apparently true stories often contain fiction - 'errors' we might call them. Especially the stories we tell about our own lives, which are hugely subjective. But these subjective stories still feel true. They are part of our identity, telling us who we are and where we came from.

Where am I going with this? To cut a long story short (so to speak) I am about to start on a journey around the East Midlands, speaking to people in libraries and other places, trying to find out about the stories they love and why they love them. As a record of my journey, I've started up another blog here

More of this in future postings.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Constitutionally Incapable of Tidiness

I seem to be constitutionally incapable of tidiness. I get papers out, focus on them for a time and then, perhaps distracted by some other more interesting task, I move on. The little detail of putting them away gets forgotten.

This need not be a problem because, like many dyslexics, I have a well developed spatial memory. Six months later when I realise I need those papers again, I can usually go back to the spot where I left them and pull them right out of the pile.

All is well, you might think. The problem comes when someone else tidies up. Six minutes, six days or six months later, I go back to look for my papers on that corner of the desk where I left them. But they are not there. They are there in my memory, but my hand finds only an empty space. I walk away to look somewhere else. But the memory of putting them on that corner of the desk is so tangible that I find myself going back to look in the same spot again. And, although I know it is illogical, again and again.

I have heard that many dyslexics tend towards untidiness. Whether this comes from being easily distracted, or from trusting our spatial memories, or from some other facet of the condition, I do not know.