Frivolous Monsters

Archive for the tag “Writing”

A Star of Essex Radio

As I hibernated through the recession the effects of this were more acutely visible elsewhere when, as part of a never-ending series of cutbacks, the Council did away with their Arts Development Officer post and therefore putting the kybosh on the local writing group.

Essex

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Finally, a Success

At this time BBC Radio Drama launched their biennial competition – the Alfred Bradley Bursary Award (ABBA), the self-styled most prestigious radio drama prize in the country – to encourage new radio writing in the North of England. The winner was to be awarded a cash bursary, mentorship, and to get their script produced as an afternoon play on Radio 4.

Radio 4 and 2

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Ballroom Dancing

Having attended the local Council writing group since its inception I’d clearly got in with the Arts Development Officer, Farrell, because whilst I offered to help her out generally I did also manage to pick up small amounts of paid work from her.

HM Revenue and Customs form

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Becoming A Professional Writer

To gain writing experience this time around I tried to avoid this sort of long-distance nonsense and enrolled on a history of short film course at the Cornerhouse; travelled to a workshop for writing radio drama in London; paid fifty pounds to get the inside track on an upcoming BBC sitcom from its producer; travelled to hear professional playwrights and TV writers; enrolled on writing, scriptwriting, and acting courses at the Oldham Coliseum; and on the back of a local Council-run course I got my first short theatre piece performed at the Bury Met.7 The greatest thing you can say about that was how the Mayor of Bury walked out on it: and he was there officially, chain and all.

Texas

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Horror Film Writer

It took me a long time to realise that I write because it is within me. That it needs to out. And looking back throughout my life it’s emerged from me in some form or another from unfinished childish jotting to a couple of short stories sent to magazines; and from a student website built from scratch to programmes for parties after I’d told people that parties required such a thing; and all of this despite being a slow reader where English was my weakest subject.

hammer-title-card

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The Reading Room 08 – The Final End

I do not cope well with change. Of that I am sure. For my kamikaze writing career I’d come to rely upon my small table outside the toilet in Costa Coffee and the reading room in the library, as they were the only places in town where you could sit quietly and do some work1, and so I was therefore distraught when I was cast out of the reading room, beyond the reach of spiritually bereft librarians for ever, and it had nothing to do with hanging about with strange men in there like you might imagine. Library

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The Reading Room 07

I rounded off a visit to Costa Coffee by reading some of The Stepford Wives, a novel about the ultimate men’s club, before heading off to what I jokingly referred to as my own: late night library Wednesday in the reading room.

Bishop Brennan

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Coffee Shop Writer

This is the last of my six Christmas blog posts and it was dark times in early January when I underestimated my shopping in Asda and, for the first time, actually had to pay for a carrier bag; the law having been changed in England, three months earlier, requiring large shops to charge for plastic bags.1 That’s a whole six pence I wasn’t going to see again. The propaganda stated that it was a bag for life and meant that now I’d have to carry it around with me everywhere I went, for the rest of my days, like a pirate curse, because I sure as hell didn’t want to end up having to pay for a second one.

Sprout Boy

From the BBC’s 2015 animated festive advert Sprout Boy.

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In Conversation with the Coffee Shop Stalker

I was in Costa Coffee when the large middle-aged woman who I’d already christened my coffee shop stalker came in and sat down next to me on the long sofa up against the back wall.

Costa Coffee barista Read more…

Toilet Tales 05

As a local writer of no celebrity and even less fortune I naturally dine at the finest tables and hang out at the trendiest scenes. And by that I, of course, mean the library reading room and the lowliest possible table in Costa Coffee outside the toilet door where no-one ever wants to sit. But by frequenting these locations it does put me in the sphere of influence of certain local characters.

Costa Coffee

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