Phlem!

Hello peeps!

Well I seem to be in an extraordinarily good mood today. Spent the last two weeks having pork and tuna steaks cooked for me by HM and avoiding writing, still managed to finish off the draft of Alcatraz (somehow) and now I shall take advice from the books and LEAVE IT! Let it settle in my brain and return when I’m not going “oh! it’s brilliant”, deep down somewhere…

Which has left me renewing vigour for Trapped in Amber there are main things that I left hanging. My characters are on an amazing farm that Mary and Peter want to live in. Alfie and Sarah should be seething with jealousy but can only see the harsh practicalities of running something as big as what they intend, with no love for the outside and no experience. Sarah and Alfie’s smugness is vaguely annoying but that’s the build-up thing that will come crashing down.

Just a moment to recap on main themes, just in case any bigwigs ask me “so, what’s it about?”

Trapped in Amber – recycling. What can be recycled? Can friendships be recycled?
Alcatraz – escape of course! Thicko.

A Seris of swear words

A series of swear words want to emanate from my mouth as I sit and type heavy handed at the worlds slowest computer. Last night as I stay in bed, staring at the ceiling due to insomnia-ahrc related stress (a full explanation is in the post) I thought about people and how people are often “in league.”

No, I’m not paranoid (and any Transmetropolitan reader will know that a paranoid person is just someone that has all the facts) and wondering if people are here for me in little white coats all “in league” with each other. I mean damn relationships again and the physicality’s of what I see around me.

HM and I are well suited. We sit here and people wonder why we are together but it’s quite simple. I have a damning body as does he, too fat and too short relates in the perfect couple. A listless merging of souls came later. I could never go out with a tall man again.

Nothing doing on the writing front. It depresses me too much. The Adour and fervour of a first draft fills me with Nabrokovian passion. The pain, blood and boredom of the second draft instils me with the limp sweat of guilt and disappointment.

oh Dear...

I feel quite funny about a few things. E and C have split up and its not really that surprising. I think HM and I are more upset about it than they are...

Anyway, 'nuff personal shit. How's the writing coming on?

Last Thurs I bored HM to death by rabbiting on about the play for like 3 hours. He seemed quite enthused and that in turn made my enthusiasm swell for it but the actual boring task of re-writing is wearing me out. I do all kinds of things before actually sitting at the desk and tap, tap, tapping away at the keyboard. Draft 3 has to all be about the characters and where they are. Mel and Eden are my biggest headaches. they have changed so very much. It's becoming more and more clear now, however.

I need lots of people to help me do a reading of act 2. Here is my mental list:

FRANKO - Morph
EDEN - Lucy Wade
MEL - Sarah (?)
BOBER - Eddy
KEN - HM
RATEYE - Mekon
SIMON -
BIRKENBECK -Andy (?)
TITI - Helena

I need a Simon... Actually... if i recruit Jacko to read Ken... HM can do Simon. That would possibly work better 4 me...

April 5th is the shaddowy date...

I'll get som hummus in...