So thrilled to have an exhibition of paintings inspired by the set of my film The Colour Room. It’s amazing how an idea can live from laptop to big screen to gallery. Catch the exhibition at the Frestonian, London, until 5th November.
Writing is a crazy occupation. You need to be sufficiently introverted to want to spend time alone for weeks, days, months on end, lost in your own world. And then it’s published/ broadcast and you have to emerge into the bright lights to promote it.
So you need to be both introverted and extroverted at the same time.
Absolutely loved promoting The Colour Room. Here are images from a few promos: from the on-stage premier Q&A to the (many many) Zoom panels, radio interviews, and press interviews.
I’ve just finished the most amazing – unusual – fortnight, promoting The Colour Room around the country. In that time I’ve sat on countless zoom panels, many zoom interviews, a premiere and Q&A, and various screenings and Q&As … needless to say I’ve seen the film a few times.
And as I was working it struck me that scriptwriting needs the most ODD set of skills. Not only do you actively want to shut yourself away, alone, and write for weeks on end, but you also have to thrive on the promotional circuit and perform in the pitch meetings. So you need to be recluse and performer, writer and saleperson. Madness.
Here are a few pictures from the last fortnight …
Coming up with names is hard. It’s the ultimate brand – literally branded onto you by someone else who didn’t even know you at the time. It represents you, broadcasts you, it’s your @lifehandle.
When I come up with names as a scriptwriter I run them through a check in my head: are they appropriate in terms of:
- Historical setting
And by story I mean do their actions reflect the person I’ve branded with that name (or not – setting up a false lead is sometimes good). A recent BBC article talks about “nominative determinism” – that is the meaning of our names influence our life decisions.
Interesting stuff: if you’re a KEVIN you’re more likely to be ignored on dating apps, less likely to get job interviews … your brand has set you up with more difficulties than if you were a Michael. So that’s going to shape you – for good or for bad.
Personally, I like using names that transcend … take JACK. I can see a “Jack” in 1797 or in 2021. He runs a multinational company with flare, he’s a cheeky welder in a steel works, a hipster brewer, a stay-at-home dad, a pirate. Chameleon names are rare but useful.
And me? I’m very happy with Claire (“with an i”). Would I have felt as happy if I had been born a boy, in which case I would have been called Trevor? Erm …
It’s hard to let your baby go … and after nearly six years I now have nothing to do with my film script. My first born is in the hands of the Director. Good hands to be in … but it’s so hard! I can’t quite believe there will be no more tweaks, no more rewrites. That’s it!
What I do have is excellent producers who send me pictures on set, so I can stay in touch. And … the papers. Fortunately for me they’re camped outside with long lenses and I can enjoy seeing costumes and outdoor sets along with the rest of the public. So grieving becomes excitement: I’m so proud of her as she goes out into the big wide world. #TheColourRoom #Stokeontrent #birmingham
The romantic vision of a writing room in the garden… and the reality of the need for a hot water bottle, heated blanket and oil radiator so I don’t go full Ranulf Fiennes.
You know what’s REALLY HARD as a writer? Knowing which project to start next. It’s a stone cold nightmare … committing to something that could take up months, years of your time. What if you make the wrong decision? It’s professionally, personally and financially devastating.
With a film in pre-production and another optioned and in script development, I’m already thinking about what’s next and I’ve picked up and put down dozens of ideas. But nothing felt “right”. Nothing ticked both the artistic (“I love it”) and commercial (“audiences will love it”) boxes: head and heart.
But does it have to tick both boxes straight away? My first film was heart … but has been shaped into something commercial. So it now ticks both boxes. And my second film was very much commercially driven, but I’ve come to love it. Head and heart eventually.
So I’m going for head (quite literally) and I’ll adapt my second novel Headhunters. I love the premis, I love the story, I love the characters, and in particular I love the protagonist. He made such an impact on me, he was the only character I’ve ever written that left me desolate when I’d stopped writing him. Like a best friend moving abroad – suddenly he wasn’t with me any more.
It’s been a terrible year and it’s great to pick up my old friend again. The absolute joy of writing from the heart. I’ll take a gamble with the “head”.
Starting out on a new script I’ve been dutifully doing my research – so far I’ve discovered:
- How forensics examine a stab wound (seen some awful, graphic stuff)
- All the types of sandwich paste (ditto)
- Horrendous legal jargon
- The killing capacity of a compound bow and arrows
Having a whale of a time but I can tell you the Google ads based on my search preferences are messed up!
A writer’s life continues much as always under lockdown. But with the added benefit of staying at home and never being seen … you can dress up how you damn well want. Today I’m channelling Miss Haversham.
Today I had a ringside seat for Tony Hall’s address about the future of the BBC.
It was the usual mix of celebratory fluff “hey guys, we’re creatively on fire” and ambitious call to action “lets reach a billion a week” but for me the standout line was given by David Attenborough in a pre-recorded segment. Looking right into the lens he said the BBC is there to tell your stories “so … what do you want to say?”
It was a simple but powerful challenge: if you have something to say then the BBC is there to help you tell it, no matter who you are and what your background.
An uplifting moment and a reminder to keep a clarity of vision at the heart of what we do.
And the biggest surprise? Baron Hall of Birkenhead sports bright stripy socks. You heard it here first.