Where Are You, Shinya Fukuno?

Mystery

2011-03-24T12:11:00.000-07:00

I'm like a hollow tree,
Just structure strapped to emptiness.
Gnarled by time and grief and lust,
Engraved with fleeting notes of love.

Once I was a vibrant thing,
All life and dreams and wonderings.
But now the world has raked my core,
And left a shell and nothing more.

Through days I stand and listen,
For the coming of the dark.
And long for smiles and tenderness,
The beat of someone's heart.

So close I was time and again,
To catching something pure.
Love remains a mystery,
A mystery and nothing more.

Namesakes

2011-03-01T08:16:00.000-08:00

I'm basically tidying up and re-editing all six episodes of Dysfunctional at the moment but also sending out questionnaires and loosely plotting episodes for my next sitcom venture 'Namesakes'. It centres around 6 characters that all have a famous namesake; George Bush, Ann Robinson, Michael Jackson etc who get together once a week at a help group for people finding life hard dealing with having a famous name.

If you know any who has a famous namesake, and wouldn't mind answering a few questions then get in touch. You can comment here, facebook, twitter etc or email me. Any and all information gratefully received. Got quite a mixed bag so far. Insightful, interesting and funny. More weird than I had expected too.

Er. That's it. I fear that too much blogging will set an unobtainable precedent. Bye x

Dysfuntional

2011-02-26T00:40:00.000-08:00

I told you this blog was going to be in fits and starts, didn't I?

Well, another three weeks has passed since my last entry and, despite my brain insisting that nothing much has happened, lots has. I finished writing series one of my sitcom 'Dysfunctional' - previously titled 'SuperNova' but, due to a sitcom of that name currently existing (some BBC 2005 production about an astrophysicist played by Rob Brydon working in the outback, who knew?), I have now changed it. Any suggestions on better names appreciated.

Episode 4 was a bit of a nightmare to complete (although still too long) as it has many storylines and one-off characters, and tying it all up was (and still is a bit) difficult over thirty pages. It works now but needs refinement. On the other hand, episode 5 was plotted and written in 11 hours (straight through with tea and cake breaks only) and could be the best episode I've written. It currently features X-Factor runner-up or whatever Rhydian (but interchangeable with Chico, Sneddon whoever).

If anyone is interested in ready an episode or two and feeding back then hit me up. Be great to share and hear what you think.

I also got episode one licked into shape and sent off to the BBC. Finalists for the BBC sitcom comp will be informed in late May so I'm just filling in time before the big time calls. Yeah, okay. I'm positive though and filled with a sense of purpose for the first time in a long time. Have a few other sitcom idea kicking around in my brain so I'm going to crack on with those in March and April.

Well, this turned out longer that I thought it would. Splendid. Right, good. Bye.

Something and Nothing

2011-02-05T13:21:00.000-08:00

Haven't blogged anything for over a fortnight.
I have felt guilty about that.
Tonight I feel a little empty.
That is all for now.

A Poem and A Boo in D

2011-01-16T03:35:00.000-08:00

As part of the ongoing excellence that is The Gingerbread Poets' Society, here is a poem written using lots of words beginning with D. You can read it or listen to a somewhat jumpy recording of me reading it below.

Despot's Depot

Digging digits devour dirt like hungry teeth in flesh,
Down to despot's depot where the deadly dangers rest,
Through dust and root and mud and sand and darkness dealing hands,
They drive defiling daggers through the dry and dying land.

Dreadful calls of muffled dread all mixed with soil and earth,
Defiant throats devour dirt, erupt with acrid births,
All mice and men and swine and herd and fish and snake and bird,
Descend like stones to depths below, demented and absurd.

Delicious death invades the nose and drums upon the eyes,
Derelict subconscious drones buzz around like flies,
Drink the cold and mist and fright for all the world is dead of sight,
As time decays, devours, consumes in gloom and woe and night.

Derisive hands and blackened teeth, reveal and feel and claw,
Detritus of the mind unwinds and searches for a door,
Shadows bend and wrap and cloak and loom and howl and choke,
For draggletails and dustmen both are set upon the smoke.

Decaying dump of dung and dregs, of forms that once were driven,
Ambition, will and decollated dreams bleed delirium,
Now dank and dark and dire and hate and loss and fear and fate,
Redemption drips on honeyed lips, diaphanous souls in wait.

Listen!

Week of Woe

2011-01-15T08:06:00.000-08:00

2011 has, so far, been a mixed bag. My basic reality has been somewhat exhausting, frustrating and reminiscent of 2010. My aspirations, on the other hand, are zinging and running around my head like a troupe of dancing pixies. These two forces have left me dangling somewhere in the middle. I'm waiting for one to end and the other to kick into gear. Currently, it's annoying.

I'm working two more five day weeks at the office. Not because I want to, but because I think Dave my have a breakdown if I don't help him out. It shall all end on 29th Jan and I shall return to my part time employment, lie-ins and solitary writing / reading marathons. But for now I hate living this way. I hate returning from work, struggling to cook something and then collapsing into bed. I actually felt relief when Friday evening arrived. I've never been the type of person that lives for the weekend but I actually couldn't wait for it to arrive. I died a little inside each day.

Enough of this, good things are a-coming. There's so many creative projects that need working on that I'm wishing away the next two weeks so that I can sink my teeth in; book, sitcom, poetry. There are also some social activities coming up that have me smiling too.

Poem based around and using words beginning with D shall be posted sometime tomorrow. I'll Boo it too, yeah. Wicked. Gonna go running now.

2011. A year with a difference.

2011-01-11T13:23:00.000-08:00

Okay, so taking a quick look down this page will reveal that today is the first day of blogging since the summer of 2007. A lot has happened since then. Sadly, not much of it is particularly interesting.

Notable events (for good and/or bad) include; going to Antarctica, publishing Spritz (and getting an audiobook deal), losing many loved ones, meeting some very new ones, the ongoing illness debacle, the discovery of antiques and finding some very excellent writing chums.

2011 is a year for change; mostly of attitude but also of lifestyle. I've cut down the amount of paid work that I'm doing, in exchanged for soul enriching work. I will probably get thinner, but I shall have a full heart.

At the end this month I'm sending a sitcom off to a BBC competition. I was writing it last autumn with a plan to send it around the production companies in early 2011. It's about a touring function band in the style / feel of Peep Show / Spaced / Black Books etc. If anyone's interested in reading some then let me know.

In February I'm heading back into my second novel 'theLost and theForgotten' which has been languishing on my hard-drive for almost a year. Time to kick it into shape and get it out to agents and publishers. Again, interested readers let me know. Here's a link to an extract

I've also joined forces with an awesome bunch of interesting, funny and smart people to write poetry and eat some lovely cake. The Gingerbread Poets Society has already spawned a few creative works. I shall bow out for now with a small poem.

The Icicle Pirates
Beneath sails of sleet, on planks of ice,
The Icicle Pirates prepare to fight.
On seas of crystal, under carrion skies,
The Icicle Pirates turn their eyes—
To craquelure fingers on swords of floe,
And muskets dripping with falling snow.
They watch and wait for sunlight to die,
Reflecting no more off each diamond eye.

Under darkness they glisten and harden and wait,
The Icicle Pirates gird their power and hate.
The violence to come is shrouded in fear,
The Icicle Pirates sharpen their ears—
To cries rising up and feet that pound down,
Like daggers of lightning they pierce the ground.
Screeching and scrapping the Pirates let fly,
Shards of existence, glisten, fall and die.

Listen!

Book Tower 2011

2011-01-11T12:59:00.000-08:00

For the past few years I have been buying books. I've read lots of them, but many have remained unread, unloved and under the sideboard. I am now going to dig them all out, pile them up and make a list. I will then read these unloved tomes through the course of 2011 (I'm guessing they'll be a fair number). So, here goes... Back in a tick.

OK, dug them all out. At least, I hope this is all of them.

The Liar - Stephen Fry
Generation A - Douglas Coupland
Leviathan or, The Whale - Philip Hoare
A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian - Marina Lewycka
The Book of Dave - Will Self
Inkdeath - Cornelia Funke
Necronomicon - H. P. Lovecraft
Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman
Consuming Passions - Judith Flanders
The Great Influenza - John M. Barry
The Children's Book - A. S. Byatt
Quantum Physics and Theology - John Polkinghome
Little Women and Good Wives - Louisa May Alcott
Chaos - James Gleick
Psychic Warrior - David Morehouse
Unseen Academicals - Terry Pratchett
Bagombo Snuff Box - Kurt Vonnegut
The Rum Diary - Hunter S. Thompson
The Devil in the White City - Erik Larson
Rites of Passage - William Golding
Everything is Illuminated - Jonathan Safranfoer
The Classical World - Robin Lane Fox
Anansi Boys - Neil Gaiman
Revolutionary Road - Richard Yates
The Call of the Wild - Jack London
The Graveyard Book - Neil Gaiman
The Gormenghast Trilogy - Mervyn Peake
Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
Genome - Matt Ridley
Beowulf
The Oxford History of Ancient Egypt - Shaw
The Search for the Dice Man - Luke Rhineheart
The House of the Spirits - Isabel Allende
Daughter of Fortune - Isabel Allende

Wow, only 34. I shall devour these by the years end if not before. Easy.

Firstly, I must finish the three books I'm in the middle of...

Today

2007-08-22T09:30:00.000-07:00

I got invited to a Word 100 group on facebook where stories are written in exactly 100 words as a form of writing practice. An old friend of mine from school started it up so why not add something myself. Oh, here it is by the way...

----------

'Today'
This story applies today. Whether you’re reading it on the today it was written i.e. today or on it’s first birthday [again: today]. Never forgot that today is today, right now, in the moment. A today to do nothing. A today to do everything. A today to turn it all around. To begin again. To complete. To start. To make a difference. For we die a little every today so be aware of your mortality today. For today is another today like all the today’s of your life. Be undeniably sure that one today will be your last ever today.

----------

Check out his, and others Word 100's click here

Online Interview

2007-08-15T04:31:00.000-07:00

My first online interview went up this week WriteWords... check it out here

A review of my novel Spritz will also be going on the site over the next week or so. Fingers crossed for positivity. I have to admit that so far feedback has been overwhelmingly good. After a bizarre report from 'The Literary Consultancy' in which Mr Richard Skinner states...

"Perhaps you didn't intend for your treatment of character and story and event to be believable, that you actually intended for these things to be drawn with such broad strokes so as to be unbelievable, but I wasn't sure of your reasons for this, because I couldn't detect any satire, social commentary or parody behind you intentions."

...I was a little disillusioned.

Those you that have read Spritz may well laugh at this, as I did reading it back later, for Spritz is entirely that which he does not connect with. Initially I thought that perhaps he was right. Perhaps it wasn't obvious enough that this was a book that parodies scenes and dialogue from film and TV in the mouths and actions of the hopeless. In the end I took some of it out as it was too obvious in places. Perhaps Mr Skinner is not a fan of film, TV, popular culture, irony, sarcasm and comedy. Who knows. Perhaps I'll send him a copy...

I Love Sam

2007-08-09T11:42:00.000-07:00

I know I really should post all messages about my friend Sam on the 23rd of the month. Possibly at 23 minutes past 11pm but that (as is the obsession with the number 23) a little crazy. Oh, did I mention it, Sam loves 23. At least, I think it's love or perhaps it's just a number that follows him around like a stray fox after you stupidly decide to give him some left over meat from the BBQ because you thought he was cute. Nonetheless, Sam is awesome.

We've ventured into a routine of reading and critiquing each others work each month (guess which day) in the endeavor to spot deadlines for ourselves and increase productivity. This is not to say that we are, in essence, lazy creatures. To be honest, we're both workaholics but some considered perspective is always welcomed. Our writing styles and content are quite different so I'm looking forward to reading the next installment.

Oh, I think Nadine Baggot has some bizarre shareholder scheme with the Sci-Fi channel on Sky as she seems to crop up every advert break during Angel and stress the life out of me. Either that or the producers of the 'Sam & Neil' show know how much this annoys he and continue to torture me with her face and pointless beauty tips.

Been writing a fair bit of my second novel 'The Madison Chronicles' this week, although I may change the name to 'Paths of the Forgotten' but that sounds a little too D&D. I want a trilogy title (as the book is in three parts) along the lines of 'His Dark Materials'. No doubt something will pop up. This is becoming a taxing affair, can you tell?

Advertising / Satan

2007-07-30T08:25:00.000-07:00

Nadine Baggot (celebrity beauty consultant; a job title that will brand your soul to hell). Why is this woman in my head? I'm sure, if you have the same TV addiction as I do, that you'll know her too. There aren't many people that make me want to score the flesh off my legs with a toothbrush but this woman manages it. Pentapeptides? I ask you. Do we really need to know about this? Do we really have to be force fed the belief that we 'need' to look younger, to stop the aging process, to praise at the alter of Olay? What ever happened to growing old gracefully, with dignity and pride in the way we look and feel about ourselves.

Fisher Fixings are driving me insane as well. How big a market is there for fixings and mountings that necessitate national radio campaign? 'Next time you need to secure a picture, wall or roof make sure you think of Fisher Fixings'. I can think of nothing else! I'd rather listen to the humdrum of Michael Buble of magic FM than sit through another 30 commercial from the Fisher Co.

Oh, and don't get me started on Andie McDowell...

I'm Currently Reading...

2007-07-27T01:08:00.001-07:00

The End of Mr. Y by Scarlett Thomas...
...which is fantastic. Newsnight Review covered it last week and, apart from one lone voice, dealt it quite a hefty blow. I was a little baffled to hear then ranting on about 'where the beauty of literature has gone'. I'm finding Mr Y very intoxicating. It's very visual and provoking. As my great friend Sam said, 'It makes me want to write!' I can think of no better review for a book than one that inspires.

Lucid Dreaming
This is research but I'm actually enjoy it. Attempting to train yourself to understand that you are in a dream and then interact with the dream, change, mold it, understand it, is frustrating to begin with but later deeply fulfilling. I imagine it's much like deep meditation. I'll persevere and post any results here later.

Lunar Park by Bret Easton Ellis
I guess I just missed his entire rise to fame. I read 'American Psycho' back in 1996 or something but never really new just how much publishing power this man had. I just thought it was some underground novel that my sick friends were into. Lunar Park show the transformation in Ellis' life from the cocaine dens of the nineties to the emergence of a family life [cocaine still intact, mind you]. Not finished it yet but all good so far.

I'm about to read..

I Am Legend
Galilee
The Classical World
Vernon God Little

Tempting and Terrors

2007-07-27T01:08:00.000-07:00

This just came to mind like a shotgun shell in the head. 'Tempting'... a game me and sisters used to play when we were kids. If one of us got a dessert, or sugary treat, for doing something good and the others did not get any, we would sit right in front of them (or more likely follow them around the house) munching on said treat and moaning orgasmically about how amazing it was. I can hear my sisters now wailing, 'He's tempting us, mummy! Make him stop. It's not fair.' Why this came to mind and why i felt is necessary to write it here is a mystery.

Oh, while we're on the subject of bullying my sisters, I used to tie my dressing gown belt around my younger sisters Zippy toy and hang him from the balcony. I'd lower him down so that she would jump up to save him but I'd coil him back in. Zippy died many, many times. I also used to hide in her wardrobe until she was nearly asleep and then spring out on her. I'd come home from school sometimes before her and double lock the door from the inside making it seem as if nobody was home, then, as she arrived back I'd hide in the kitchen and jump out on her when she came in. I'm sure they did awful things to me too.

Let's Get This Party Started

2007-07-25T18:26:00.000-07:00

Somebody told me I should have an official blog. I was dubious at first. But here it is. No idea what actually prompted me to fill out all the boxes and finally create this page but here it is nonetheless. So, about me and why I'm here writing this. On one hand, it's for myself; an online record of daily thoughts and nonsense. On the other hand, it's for you; it's still an online record of daily thoughts and nonsense.

I'm a writer (so I'm hoping this comes across cohesively although I may well log on tired, asleep, drunk or paranoid and write something intangible and childish - I'll probably get hacked too 'ooh, there goes the paranoia' *). Yes, writing and paranoia. My first novel 'Spritz' came out in March this year and has done really well so far. I'm making great headway with my next novel which should be finished sometime this year. Maybe you found this blog through my website but if not then you can read more about my books and stuff at www.neiljhart.com

Tangent Alert: So, it's either vindaloo hot in this house or artic cold. There simply is no inbetween. The temperature even differs from upstairs to down. There are a collection of jumpers in the middle of the stairs as a staging area for the climates between floors.

I also design stuff like websites and work for print. CDs, DVDs, brochures etc. I'm not that interested in it but, until the writing hopefully kicks off properly, it pays the bills. I saw on the news today that a bedside table has been invent that converts neatly into a home defense kit. The table top becomes a shield and the shaft a baseball bat. Now, normally i keep a baseball bat beside my bedroom door in order to bust open some skulls (although it is currently on loan as a prop in a film!) so I'm looking at this thing and going, 'hell yeah, i want a shield and batton!'... and then the price is announced. £1200.00. This thing is small and made of wood. How can it cost so much. It seems slightly ironic that anyone breaking into my house would be attacked by the most expensive item in it.

It's too hot. I'm off downstairs.

* I'm fiercely paranoia of the internet in general. I'm sure something is coming down the phone line that I have not requested and will inevitably destroy me and my home. Online banking too is insane. I refuse to dive in. Having money in the bank is dangerous enough. Why I should want to create an online name and password that will give instant access to my funds defies logic. I'm flawed, as are we all.