Here is where I quote kids' TV.

End of year blah blah. Christmas and goodwill etc.

Love Christmas. Twenty four hours' time we will be with the family doing the Xmas Eve feast.

I am so excited that I have already eaten two scotch eggs.

Anyway, nod to this guy (good blog): http://www.davidanaxagoras.com/. I lifted his end of year question thing. It rules!

1. What did you do in 2005 that you’d never done before?

• Got a pet. Lola the cat. Named after this film: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0130827/. She sort of runs around in the same way: the same ground every time but every time a different outcome.
• Got commissioned to write a film script.

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

• Yes indeed. I think. It was something to do with getting paid to write something.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

• About five friends. It wasn't a birthing circle cult. And yes, we will do the family thing. And no, not yet.
• Oh yes! My sister-in-law too. I am now an uncle twice over.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

• My gran. Last grandparent. She did well - over 90. I can't even remember, mind you I can't remember how old my Ma is. And I can only remember the missus' because of the Australian Rugby League grand final of the year of her birth.
• You think I am joking? When I was 21 I once pissed my pants, whilst sober no less. I had forgotten to undo my fly.
  

5. What countries did you visit?

• Sweden (Stockholm) with the missus, visiting friends for a long weekend. Discovered the genius that is Carcassonne.
• Holland (Amdsterdam) in March for a one-day meeting that turned into an overnight when the city got snowed in.
• Denmark (Copenhagen, Roskilde and Aalborg) for two sets of mates. One set got married - magical. The other just got drunk with us.
• Wales (West Wales) for the annual holiday jaunt of the hordes. Millions of us doing cliffs, castles and churches.
• Russia (Moscow) for a one-day meeting.
• Was supposed to do a few countries in East Africa in Jan but Gran dying put the kibosh on that.

6. What would you like to have in 2006 that you lacked in 2005?

• A hippy house made of pine. With solar panels and shit.
• Pirate-style trousers made of hemp.

7. What date from 2005 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

• Probably ... er ... the day my Gran died. Can't remember it though. It was late Jan.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

• Apart from ensuring that the cat didn't run away?
  
• Writing four drafts of a film in three weeks, and taking something that was a fucking mess and getting it to within one draft of being filmable.

9. What was your biggest failure?

• Not being able to fly under my own steam.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

• Not much illness.
  
• Did have invasive/S&M tooth surgery.
  
• And the gammy knee.
  
• And the keyboard cancer.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

• A cat.
• Brian Lara Cricket for the X-box.
  

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

• Russell T Davies.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

• Bono.

14. Where did most of your money go?

• Mortgage.
  
• Alcohol.
  
• The cat.
  
• Fancy photographic equipment for the Missus.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

• Doctor Who.
  
• Being commissioned to re-write a film.
  
• Getting a cat.
  
• The missus doing so well in her photography world.

• And Christmas.

16. What song will always remind you of 2005?

• Either My Humps by Black Eyed Peas.
• Or the Gwen Stefani one that made me moist.
  

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

• happier or sadder? Hard to say. I was happy last year. But I think that I am happier this year. Much closer to achieving the dream state ... but then again that proximity also makes me more antsy. I am now so anti-commuting that I find myself starting arguments with Chavs at the drop of the hat. Happier but angrier. How about that?
• thinner or fatter? Thinner, believe it or not. Maybe cancer isn't all bad. (Note to fans: I don't have cancer. I was once tested for bollock cancer in Australia. Turned out my undies were too tight.)
• richer or poorer? Poorer. Much, much poorer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

• Sitting around on my ass watching TV.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

• Reading blogs instead of writing. Actually, no, fuck it. I write faster than anyone I know. But I also need the dead time to recharge.

20. How will you be spending New Year’s?

• With friends who live around the corner.

22. Did you fall in love in 2005?

• Sort of - with the bastard cat.

23. How many one-night stands?

• None. Met the missus in 1995 and haven't laid a sexual finger on another person since.

24. What was your favorite TV program?

• Doctor Who. Although I didn't get to watch Galactica until this year, and that obviously comes out near the top.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

• No-one specific. The general youth.

26. What was the best book you read?

• Kevin Conroy Scott, Screenwriter's Masterclass.

27. What was your greatest musical (re)discovery?

• I realised that I like a Girls Aloud song.

28. What did you want and get?

• A grate Doctor Who.
  
• A pet.
  
• A writing commission.
  
• Brian Lara Cricket for the X-Box.

29. What did you want and not get?

• A spec sale.
• A winning lottery ticket.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?

• Serenity comes damned close, as does Corpse Bride and History of Violence.
  
• Grate films watched on DVD for the first time include City of God, Onibaba and Ring.
  
• Saw some right stinkers too: Cabin Fever, Football Factory (can someone please take this bilge-filth off me?) and Saw.
  
• And had I seen it at the pictures then Dead Man's Shoes would be a clear winner.

• But the winner, by dint of being top dollar and being watched at the cinema, is: Wallace and Gromit in the Curse of the Were Rabbit!

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

• Took the day off work. Drove over to the family house. Spent the day playing Brian Lara Cricket on the X-Box. Top takeaway meal.
• I turned 34. I think Bob Willis was 34 when he quit international cricket.
  

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

• Not being a slave to the tyranny of place and time (as Alan Garner calls it). The day I stop commuting is the day I become a truly happy man.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2005?

• Er ... man at Primark? Like I said, if I can manage to buy hemp pirate trousers then I will be a happy man.

34. What kept you sane?

• Being married to a right arsey piece of work from Australia.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

• Tough one. Perhaps Gwen Stefani. Or Katee Sackhoff, despite (because of?) the terrible/pun-powerful name.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?

• The development of my own political system. More to come on that later.

37. Who did you miss?

• My Gran.

38. Who was the best new person you met?

• My new nephew, Zach.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2005:

• Hell really is other people. Just give up and get out. Buy a shack somewhere and eat your own pigs.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

• Jelly boats and pirate's gold, princess pea pies,
  Carrot cake and fruit smiles and envelope surprise.
  We love our cafe and we like to cook,
  We have a fantastic recipe book.
  He is big cook, and he is small,
  Friends in our cafe we cook for them all.
  When your tummy, Gets all rumbly
  You're ready for a treat!
  You can have something delicious to eat.

Here is where I stab my Tutor

Speaking of treatments ...

Irascible Tutor #1 gave me more detailed feedback on my first treatment for End of the World.

As he mentioned before, it is 90% there. Of course when I heard that I thought 'riddle me ree, riches here we come.'

What I forgot is that Irascible Tutor #1 is a twat. When he says 90% ... he means 90% of 823%.

In one way it is 90% ready: the treatment is 3,500 words long and he only had reservations about 350 of them. But changing those 350 requires me to also change the remaining 3,150.

And THAT, people, is why you should work so hard on getting a treatment absolutely right. Much better to re-write 9 pages than 110.

Other updates: I pitched the film based on the ancient epic poem to Irascible Tutor #1. He slagged it off for a while until I came up with an angle on it that would work in a film. He liked it then, the git. But he also suggested doing it as a tv piece - and it does have that feel. I then pitched it to Famous Director. He recommended sitting on it for a few years. Something set that long ago would probably need big name stars to make it resonant.

The Women Sex Blood project is nice. I am now working on a ten-page step outline for that. Loving it - getting very deeply into the world of sexual horror, menstrual murder, all of that stuff. And it has a big, key visual that I have never seen before, anywhere, ever. So well done there.

Famous Director mentioned that it might be time to return to the Running Around Hospital film. Not to do it again as is, oh no. We were brought in to work on it too late - too many elements from the original script had to be retained. As a result we could never escape from a script that just shunted a group of people around a scary building in classic teen horror style. But ... we did stick in a new theme - something very nice. Akin to Rosemary's Baby. I told him that we should take that central idea out of it and leave the rest behind. Am going to write a proposal based on that.

I am now on leave for three whole weeks. Apart from that Christmas and New Year thing I have cleared my schedules. Partly so I can do loads of writing - mainly the two treatments and the step outline above. But also partly because I am a lazy bastard.

Here is the week leading up to Christmas in some depth:

Saturday (today).
Going round the corner to friends' house. They cook we drink. Tired just thinking about it.

Sunday.
Day in. Wifey going to cook something nice. I may have to wash up. Dreading that.

Monday.
Nothing planned. Will have to go downstairs at some point go watch the original King Kong on TV. Bit worried about getting back up the stairs.

Tuesday.
This is going to be hell. Taking train to Chester. Meet family, lunch at nice restaurant. Then train home, straight to bed.

Wednesday.
Meeting friend/consultant for breakfast. My diary is free after 10:30. Might do a bit of shopping if not too tired.

Thursday.
Dentists. Hour-long cleaning session, multiple gum injections, the works. I will be drooling on the streets of Manchester like a loon after 1:30. Better go home and go to bed.

Friday.
At last! A free day. May take the rubbish out to the bin. Apparently if I do it in my slippers it doesn't count as leaving the house.

Here is where I treat you good.

Or treat you right.

I am currently working on two treatments for seperate film projects.

Well, actually I am currently writing my blog. But I have one of them open in Final Draft. Final Draft is not the best programme to use for this, it has some serious display flaws, but I feel a little bit more real for using it. Know'm saying?

Anyway, two different treatments, two very different approaches.

So ... what is a treatment?

It's one of the most commonly-asked question answered on the 'we show you how to write but stop you writing' websites that are all over the world.

My first answer is: whatever the person who asks you to write it wants it to be.

My second is: it's a prose version of the story. Unless the person who asks you to write it wants something else.

Two pages? Ten? Some say six. Some don't. James Cameron used to write treatments that contain more words than his scripts. Dialogue? Not according to some. Essential according to others.

• It can tell the story in detailed, step-by-step form, telling you what you see and what you hear (again, what James Cameron does). The skill with a treatment like this is to approach it as version one of your full script.
  
  
• It can outline the major beats, using purple prose and highlighting elements that the script would have to imply. To get this one right you need to convey the feel of the film and to omit anything that would be a nightmare to write when doing the script.
  
  
• It can be an executive summary of your film. The treatment for Mr and Mrs Smith is a good example of that.
  
  
• And so on. In reality it can be fucking ANYTHING.

And don't forget the difference between a treatment and a synopses, an outline, a step-outline, a beats analysis ...

The first treatment is for End of the World horror. This one is 8-10 pages long. It's like the second example above: it tells the story but tries to do so in a way that conveys the flavour rather than specifically what you see and hear. It details the major plot points, motivations, some pivotal lines of dialogue. It is going to be used to drum up development money.

The second is for Groundhog Day's for Pussies. We sent a nine page treatment to Famous Director. He wants more ... something akin to the first example. The Cameron way. This one is more like the script itself. We are detailing pretty much every scene, every major action. When it's finished a director should be almost able to shoot straight from that.

Do people get paid for treatments?

In principle the answer to that should depend on how much work you are doing.

A short treatment is frequently what you write to get paid in the first place. Two pages? Forget it. You can earn for 8-10 pages in the UK. An acquaintance just got a grand for an eight pager. If you are writing a Cameron treatment you should get paid - after all, you are almost writing the script.

The Yorkshire Menk and I are not getting paid for Groundhog Day's for Pussies. But ... I know Famous Director pretty well. He will pay us to write a script based on this if he likes it. If he doesn't we have a killer document to take elsewhere - and writing a spec script from it is much easier than from eight pages.

In addition to that - we have to realistic about low-budget film making. We are new kids with nothing even optioned yet. Famous Director is running a new company, building up a slate of low-medium budget stuff. Just about to start shooting his first film and looking for more development funding on the back of that.

Also - I like and trust him. If he were a turd we would probably ask for cash.

Two treatments. Two completely different approaches.

So what would I say to someone who has been asked to write a treatment - in the UK at least?

Go back to the person who commissioned it and say 'what do you really want?' And when they say 'I want it to be a wheelbarrow full of the tongues of strangled babies' say 'what colour wheelbarrow?'

I asked that of Famous Director and got a three-hour lunch out of it.

Hooray for me!

Here is the end of the world!

Last night I spoke to the Irascible Tutor #1. We discussed my End of the World film idea (marvellous project number 8, see below).

This one has been with me for nigh on a year. Its inception wasn't one of those inspiration moments. We had a tutor last year whose first film script is now in pre-production. I looked at him and thought 'that's what I want to do'. From being someone who saw writing for TV as the future I quickly became someone ... who saw writing for film as the future.

I came up with a premise for - what I hope is - an unsettling and thoughtful horror film. Played around with it for a while - even going so far as to write three quarters of a script over the Christmas break last year. That script wasn't very good, but I still had confidence in the idea.

In January 2005 I pitched it to Irascible Tutor #1, whilst in the middle of a rant about how unfair life was. He liked it, we have developed it and now it is almost ready to go out to the money men. What Irascible Tutor #1 didn't tell me back then is that he is setting up a production company along with a business partner of his. The End of the World idea, if it can be made to work, will probably go on their development slate.

So ... when the treatment is ready to go they will take it out and look for development money.

For the 'tards out there: this means money to turn it from an idea/treatment into a script, and possibly to re-write the script at least once. What happens then is anyone's guess. With most commissioned film scripts things die at about this point. If it gets past this point ... in the UK it tends to then be taken into pre-production (casting and generally setting stuff up) with the same writer, going through a limited number of re-writes. In the US the re-writes can be legion. It is also very rare for the same writer to be with it all the way through. There are very successful, very rich people in the US who have never had a film credit. They specialise in taking scripts with promise, adding an element of professionalism or polish or characterisation or whatever, and then handing them on the glory boys who write the versions that actually get made.

And now we return to the treatment.

Last night's conversation with Irascible Tutor was along the lines of: 'it's 90% there, but there are some passages where you are writing for someone who knows the story beforehand.' So I now have to talk through those moments with him and make them more self-explanatory.

The film itself is a supernatural horror, but with much emphasis on the psychological. Y'see ... I am something of a fan of horror films, but only those with a particular emphasis.

I don't give a flying fuck about being made to jump in my seat.

Gore doesn't do anything for me - usually it is an utter waste of time.

What I want is nastiness. I want to be horrified. To go home thinking 'fuck, those poor bastards'. I want strong, well-drawn characters being taken through the mill in the most terrible, terrifying - or even just humiliating - manner possible.

I want the audience to go home feeling sad. Asking themselves 'what if that had been me?'

And I want it to be plausible. An odd word I know, but it's still true for me: the film needs to make emotional sense, even though it contains cave things hunting female cavers.

(SPOILERS AHEAD) I watched Saw a few months ago. Very clever, very smart and all that. But when Cary Elwes had to cut his foot off - I felt nothing. Boring, 'cause the whole thing was just that bit too emotionally far-fetched. It was more like an exercise in game-playing than an attempt to horrify an audience. Compare it to something like the Descent. A woman accidentally stabs her best mate through the neck with a pick axe. And slowly backs into the dark. We see that same stabbed woman later in the film - she is barely alive, and has been moved to the charnel house. She is so badly injured that her best mate - our hero - kills her. Those ten, fifteen minutes of that poor bastard's life ... of which we see nothing ... knowing that you are going to die deep underground and be eaten.

Now THAT is horror.

Here are some updates.

And now to the writing.

Project updates:

• Groundhog Day's for Pussies
  Famous director liked the eight page treatment. He now wants a longer treatment. Effectively the James Cameron/Terminator style treatment.
  For the rest of you that means: tell the scene-by-scene version of the story in prose form. Detail the major emotional beats in pretty much each scene.
  My immediate response to this was: get in! And my co-writer, the Yorkshire Menk, agrees.
  Of course there are things to be said about the exploitation of young, hungry and sexy talent by unscrupulous meeja sharks. I just ain't going to say them here.
• End of the World
  Finished the first pitch/treatment. Sent it off to Irascible Tutor #1 yesterday. Which is nice, as scripts are like taxis. I'll let you work out the rest.
• NEW IDEA!!!
  That's right folks, another idea. Number 14 on the list.
  You can blame this one on my extensive knowledge of ... er ... old poetry. I have a very early, sort of pre-sex fertilisation idea. The theme is ... I can't tell you yet. But, as so often happens, inspiration came from two different thoughts coming together.
  One of them derives from an ancient Welsh/Celtic poem, Y Gododdin.
  I got the other whilst watching Band of Brothers.
  

Here is what I use to eat.

Teeth. Can't live with them, can't ... OK, can live with them, struggle to live without them unless you like to suck.

If I blog for long enough then elements of my character will no doubt become clear to even the dumbest stalker. I want you to only see the good bits. After all, this blog is not for me. It's for the people.

And I can't have the people realising that I fuck hamsters, for example. But what I will let slip is that I have a cancer for everything. I think that the official term for that is 'hypochondria'. Headache? Cancer. Sore leg? Cancer. Feelings of mild paranoia? Nerve cancer.

But fuck it. There is always something wrong with my body. And it's never what you thought it was. If something is shit in my body - blame an infrastructure fault miles from the scene.

For example: my teeth are in perfect working order, but without oodles of painful sub-Marathon Man behaviour the gums are going to rot away beneath them.

And I went to hospital last week ON THE DOCTOR's ORDERS no less, to get my gammy knee checked out. Gammy in that is has a lump on it, keeps locking and makes gunshot clicks when straightened.

I know what you are thinking: cancer. Apparently not. In a worrying spate of thematic consistency the doctor told me that the knee is fine. It's the rest of the leg that is screwed.

How does this relate to screenwriting?

I am neither rich nor famous. I thought it was my brain or hands that were at fault. Turns out my keyboard has cancer.

Big idea for the day: nativity version of the Exorcist.

Here is a giant bear.

Just got back from a speedy trip to Russia. This was my first trip to the country my Russian colleagues used to call 'Russia'. Some of my thoughts from the trip are:

1. Lufthansa and their crazy connection times. A guaranteed connection of 50 minutes between landing in Frankfurt and taking off again for Moscow? Kiss my ass Fritz. Lucky for me I was flying business class and could access one of the many amayzing lounges, with the seats and the televisions and all. And a thirty Euro luncheon voucher. Nice and generous, but how the fuck am I going to eat thirty Euro's worth of food in four hours?
   They still kick KLM's ass though. The Dutch national airline has to be one of the most apathetic, thoughtless, anti-customer organisations known to man. Don't even get me started about their retarded staff ... last time I had the misfortune to fly with those cunts I had to grab a member of staff by the lapel to stop them walking away from me as I was asking for help ...
2. Moscow. Big and dark and at this time of year very grimy.
   So why all the tinted windows? If you don't want anyone to see in your car ... just don't wash it.