Now here! Listen. These are the achievable things I WILL nail in this brand new shiny year.
1: Keep up with and finish the novel by September 2010, when it'll be due in for Uni assessment.
2: Analyse and break down novels and scripts to gain a better understanding of the processes.
3: Keep writing scripts.
4: Enter a few scriptwriting competitions and short story competitions to keep my hand in. You've got to be in it to win it, as they so rightly say.
5: Make myself pick up that pen every day, or tinker at the p.c. and write words every single day.
There you have it. Five things isn't over-facing. I think I may be able to stomach it. :-)
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Wednesday, 6 January 2010
Saturday, 2 January 2010
Blog TakeOver - Who, Me? I Live Here Don't I??
I'm a character out of Antonia's book, but I'm sure I existed and lived here before her anyway.
My name is Joe. I'm blonde, with a hint of strawberry - shaggy hair, blue eyes, icy if you must know, and a mouth that doesn't turn down too much at the corners despite being thin.
I laugh a lot, am a wiry, lanky twenty-nine year old with a passion for Lowry paintings. Antonia reckons I like to think I'm Lowry, but I don't, I just like to think I can paint like him.
See, I never was good for much at school; I could draw, but only stick-like fashion, and sketches that created childish scenes. Then I discovered Lowry and saw that he'd made stick-drawing fashionable. So I practised didn't I? I practised all the time, until I made those stick figures a bit livelier, yes, with personalities of their own, even though their features became muted and bland and sometimes even featureless, yet retaining a semblance of a self.
I learnt how to draw a group of people so that it looked like they were one, and busy, and industrial or poignant in some way.
So, I aint the ghost of Lowry, see. I could paint you, Antonia, and fashion you into stick and merge you with a crowd like a giant colourful mural; you could be on a street somewhere in the north, tiny red hat perched on your head, brown woollen coat clutched about you, lacy red brolly perched on the end of a slim, bony wrist.
What? You are doing that right now?
See, I told you I lived here. It was me that made YOU!
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