The interview includes an absolute gem of a comment from John:
"If people can't control their own emotions, then they have to start trying to control other people's behaviour."
I've completed another television comedy script. This one's about four male teenagers who wake up in their school library to find that something strange and terrible has happened, leaving everyone else in the world either unconscious or missing. Unlike more traditional disaster movies, they're not thinking about how they can rebuild society, help other survivors and find a cure for what's happened. Their main questions are 'have any attractive females survived?' and 'if they haven't survived and have become un-dead instead, is it okay to get off with one?'
Here's the script. I've sent a copy and an episode synopsis to Dominic Lord at the JFL agency who asked to read any new scripts I created. Last year's script, 'just the two of us', hasn't yet been commissioned but it's early days yet. I've also added 'aftermaths' to my scripts page.
Hmm... I think I'm definitely procrastinating here. Maybe I should go and sit in the reference library? It's cold out there. Don't want to move. Actually, I can't move because this conservatory is about four degrees above freezing. Fine motor control is one of the first things that go as a person drifts into hypothermia. Then they get sleepy.... zzzzz. Only joking! Anyway, that wouldn't make any sense. Why would someone type 'zzzz' after they'd fallen asleep? Then again, maybe that would be sleep-typing? Perhaps my sleep typing would be better than my awake typing? Is my conscious mind getting in the way of my creative flow? Am I lying in bed at night, my thoughts in dreamland while my body desperately searches for a laptop to pen a brilliant opus? That's embarrassing; as a writer, I'm better off unconscious.
This is definitely procrastinating. I did wean myself off playing with my new iPhone, well, fairly new, it was second hand but it's still got its internal compass, accelerometer and pseudo-GPS. I wish I had those things, well, I've got an accelerometer but I don't have an internal compass. Birds do. They've also got some kind of GPS and they can fly. So, ranked in terms of ability, it's birds first, followed by my iphone and then me last. Nuts.
I'm definitely writing a stream of consciousness blog entry here, like Jack Kerouac but without the magical atmosphere of late fifties jazz, bohemia, the wide open plains, friendship, exploration, sadness, disillusionment and, in the end, an early death. So this blog entry hasn't got anything in common with Kerouac's writing apart from its long, unwieldy sentences and complete absence of a plot. Hmm... need to work on that. Then again, this blog is probably a healthier version of Kerouac. It's not as memorable or inspiring but you'll live longer; sort of a Beat-writer lite. Low fat Beat-writer. Family filtered Beat writer. Tory party approved Beat writer. This is making me nauseous.
What was the point of this blog entry? Oh yes, Simon's cat; it's good. Time for an EMBED tag...