stinglikeabee: classic denny colt  (batman laughs)
Ed Reardon's back on Radio 4! Granted, it's a repeat of the last series but I'll take 'em however they're dealt.

I'm sure my English prof would be horrified to learn I've switched my idolation to a grumpy fictionalised freeloading writer who rails against the 12-year olds of the world and never seems to catch a break. He was similarly distressed when I told him I wanted to be just like Hemingway, asking why I couldn't be the normal sort of writer who actually writes instead of boozing away money. The answer: because I am a lazy procrastinator who spends more time talking about writing than actually doing it.

Speaking of which, planning for script frenzy is going well. Sometime last week I sent an anguished e-mail to Sal, trying to figure out why I couldn't write female characters and blurting out other neuroses the poor girl wasn't equipped to assist. After a long session of mind slapping, I got over it and now have pages and pages of actually sentences. *punches air* Awesome!

Every time I try to enter the notes into the script program, I can't be trusted to finish the work. Bloody internets distracting me. Therefore I'm on the lookout for a better writing apparatus than the pen and book I have right now. There's something satisfying about scritching on paper, but I'm running out of pages. Here's what I have right now:



Paperchase is excellent. They're available at Borders stores and otherwise are available through their Amazon UK page. What I like is the texture of the brown, unlined notebook paper as well as the size and the heft of the book. But if I'm going to use paper to create the scenes instead of the computer program, I'm thinking of going bigger. More disposable. Like a regular lined 3-hole notebook. Unsexy, but probably more practical.

Back in the good old days, Sal cut an A4 notebook into thirds for our scribbles. Then we moved to spiral bound notebooks. The paper quality of those suck, though. No matter how careful you were, the ink bled into the page and the lines were plain ugly. Ah, maybe I'm overthinking it too much. But you got to admit... the page of nonsense up there looks important on the good paper. I actually feel like a genuine writer whipping that baby out to jot down something.
stinglikeabee: classic denny colt  (NaNoWriMo 07)
This post I wasn't planning on making. I had in mind a post based on the offerings of this week's excellent and fun comic moments from DC. Especially since I've just arrived home ten minutes ago from work and found the SDCC International Update letter with Darwyn Cooke's *sighs* The New Frontier on the cover! OMG I'm soooo psyched, I have this humongous smile on my face. (also reminded me Sal still has my Darwyn Cooke *sighs* autograph with a little sketch of Hal Jordan).

The long comics post will have to wait until Sunday. What I did want to post about was word wars. Since this is my first year with Nano, I had no idea what these were. To sum up, word wars are when writers decide to write the most amount of words within a specified amount of time. Whoever writes the most, wins. Word wars are also known as sprints, because a lot of the time the point isn't to win the word war but to up the word count (the finish line of the sprints).


I hope any of what I've said so far helps the nano writers out there, and good luck everyone!
stinglikeabee: classic denny colt  (Default)
Croupier = a casino dealer

I think it's safe to say that Croupier was Clive Owen's big break. Not quite into the atmospheric heights today, but that film definitely got him noticed. It's stylish, clever, and has the feel of a classic noir story. It might not be everyone's cuppa, this movie about a struggling writer who returns to work in the dodgy world of gaming casinos. Owen's performance as Jack Manfred (with bleached hair as the writer, dark hair as the croupier), is engaging and more importantly, open. For instance, when Jack's girlfriend gives him a shoulder massage after a night at the casino and runs her hand through his hair, almost carelessly mentioning she liked his hair better blond - Jack becomes tetchy and snaps that it's not like he's changed. But those few seconds make it rather obvious to the audience of his discomfort and the brittleness of the lie. Try re-enacting that scene. It ain't easy getting it right; rehearse it too much and it'll seem like something in a soap opera.

(Incidentally, I dyed my bleached hair black right before watching the film - being rather superstitious at times, I wondered if this was a sign... I'm gonna be a croupier!)

The best thing about Croupier is the valuable lessons for writers. That's right, it's a PSA as well. After the sounds of the roulette, we meet a literary agent, who blathers on about what sells in the market. Already we have our first lesson.

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