To ease myself back into writing again, I have started a new blog on the wildly original genius idea of... reviewing old Doctor Who episodes.  You've got to restart somewhere.

It is here: Doctor Who Done To Death

If you've ever supported me, please do check it out and maybe even leave a comment or two.  If you haven't, come over too and leave a comment telling me to belt up.

Happy times and new places,

Stu
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I was drafting a new, and let’s face it, long overdue, blog post with an update on where I am with my screenwriting comeback(!) and with some thoughts on writers’ block, which is obviously floating in the air as a topic at the moment. (I’m not blocked, by the way, but I have found that on resuming writing, I needed to relearn a lot of basic skills, like actually writing one word after the other – more on that another time.)

But, a few things have happened that I couldn’t let pass without comment, rant. So, this will be something of a random collection of scraps. Firstly - and I know everyone's talking about it, but I can't let it go by completely - there was the ridiculous and short-sighted decision by the ConDems to abolish the UK Film Council. Needless to say, I'm in agreement with Mike Leigh et al, and I do wonder about the thinking of a government, or any institution, that announces what it's going to tear down before it announces what it's going to build. Still, time will tell how/if any new system will work. Good luck to all of us in our funding applications yet to come...

...we're going to need it.

As some kind of compensation to writers, this year sees the return - in all its austerity-defying glory - of the Red Planet Competition. It is almost certainly the best screenwriting opportunity out there, particularly as it's free to enter. The deadline fast approaches, and my script and 60-word synopsis are being buffed up now, nearing completion despite all that writers' block that I didn't have. Another good luck to all who enter.

Next, and I know I'm late to the party again, but wasn't Sherlock absolutely excellent? I wasn't as blown away as I thought I'd be by the writing in this year's series of Doctor Who, so it's good to see the the Moff be fully Grand again. I've read a few online criticisms about one small aspect: Holmes seemed unnaturally slow on the uptake about the profession of the killer. But this allowed for a big, fantastic "He's Behind You" moment later on, so it was forgivable, I think. The ratings were good, so I'm looking forward to seeing some more.

Finally, it seems churlish to celebrate much, but Displacement Activities has quietly crept past it's three year anniversary as a going concern; and yes, I know there have been times when I've pushed the definition of 'going concern' to its absolute limit, but survival is all that matters: I'm still typing. A moment's reflection then (something along the lines of "Three years, and that's all the posts I managed? Sheesh") and then onwards.

Displacement Activities will Return in - I dunno - a bit, with:

"I done busted my writing bone, and other tales of Writer anxiety".

Okay, so what happened is this: I became a father for the second time last Summer, the day job continued to become more and more consuming, and the continuing Global Economic Situation reduced the opportunities across the board for new screenwriters.

I was busy, therefore, and lucky too. But not in screenwriting. I thought it would be nice for a while to use my spare time to relax and be a normal person with a family and a, you know, respectable and profitable career. So, I stopped writing. I pretty much stopped tweeting too, and I let this blog die. I just let the old thing gather dust, no-one to notice it. I let it become a strange little thing in a corner of the internet. And over the months, the world moved on.

I had no ongoing writing projects, paid or unpaid. I had nothing sitting in anyone's in-tray to waste hope on. I was in the middle of a spec script, but someone else's too similar piece was just then announced for Summer 2010 broadcast on BBC4 so I stopped (which is possibly the nicest of the two ultimate ends for my spec scripts).

I did not hustle, I did not network. I read books on my commute, I played with my kids. I didn't relax. Instead of writing in my spare time, I was 'not writing'. Deliberately, consciously. Something still ate away at my mind. Ideas for stories nagged at me, and I had to resist them. Word of opportunities still managed to reach me, some of them (thank you Big Finish) too good to resist entering something.

It's often said that if you give up, you were never meant to be writer. There's something nice and Darwinian about that, but I think it's bollocks. The truth is writers can't give up in the same way junkies can't give up. Whether they're any good or not, or - completely unconnected - whether they have any success or not, is immaterial. We're all addicted.

So what finally changed my mind, and got me fully back on the skag? Well, for a socialist and old Labour party member such as me, a Tory government (or even half of one) is a hell of a spur. I thought - I've got to keep going, because there's things worth saying, things that need to be said. And, so inspired, I was just about to start on my comedy horror spec (it has subtext, okay, so don't judge!) when what hits my inbox but a political screenwriting opportunity. It's almost made to be.

The blog will henceforth be used to chart my attempts to restart. How easy is it to get back into the game? Is it harder than starting out? Don't think anyone's talked about that before - it should be interesting to see how it turns out. So, that's my manifesto...

... i.e. don't be surprised if it turns out I don't do any of it exactly.

...from Displacement Activities. I hope you have a great time; see you soon!

If you write, professionally or otherwise, and you haven't yet read this piece by Josh Olson, writer of the screenplay for A History of Violence and other things, then I suggest you read it immediately. (Go on - read it now, I'll still be here when you get back; be warned it contains language that may offend from the outset, blah, blah, blah).

Read it? Good. Okay - it's a lovely story, as you'd expect from a professional storyteller, and obviously there's a lot of truth there. But I felt the odd pang while reading it. For one thing, I can't help but think that there are plenty of anecdotes, books, and articles out there - a lot of them by professionals like Olson - that give diametrically opposite advice to his, i.e. hustle, network, use any relationships you can to get your work to a wider audience, nothing ventured nothing gained, etc.

Screenwriters can find mentors who are more established, and to do so is a good thing. And to do so will almost inevitably involve at some point asking someone a question that might get a reply along the lines of "I will not read your fucking script". But, it might just as easily get the response "Fuck yeah, I will read your script". Sometimes, it might be worth the risk to ask; but, how to ask the right way, and how to choose the right time to ask? Only experience can teach you those things.

The best advice I ever got was to treat the whole thing like you would asking someone out (and this goes for trying to get any writing gig, not just for trying to get a mentor): tread soft, be aware of non-verbal signals from the other person, choose the right time, don't push too hard, and don't look too desperate. I can't fault this advice. Trouble is, I have hardly ever asked anyone out in my entire life. I'm far too shy, and would end up waiting forever for that right time. It can be like that trying to get a writing gig too. The last thing you want to be as a screenwriter is shy; but, if you're of that disposition, I could see how you could read Olson's article and be scared off. That brings me to my second pang.

Olson says, quite rightly, that you can't dissuade a writer (or else they're not a writer). I agree with this. You need to have that slight mental defect that, no matter what, makes you feel guilty when you don't write. You need that. But you also need other things. You need to be able to forget your shyness sometimes and hustle, network, use any relationships you can to get your work to a wider audience, nothing ventured nothing gained, etc. You might not be able to dissuade a true writer from writing, but you might just be able to persuade him or her to never show anything they write to anyone ever again. I could get all macho here and say that this would be a good thing, as it would cut down on the competition, but I'm a soppy sod and I'd like anyone with the talent and something to say to get their work out there and recognised. And that brings me to my final pang.

How do any of us know we're talented, or that we've got to say is worth saying? It's all very well having self-belief, but deluded idiots have self-belief too. And writers are all - at least in my experience - riddled with doubts about everything. So how can we know? Only by asking someone qualified to answer. And the most qualified person is going to be a professional. So, I don't blame Olson's acquaintance for asking. It wasn't a 'dick move'. (Though it is bewildering to a screenwriter based in the UK to imagine a wannabe who has all their hopes pinned on one movie project - it's like the US have a film industry ferchrissakes; only wannabe novelists can behave like that in my country.)

Olson should have kept to his line and turned him down politely. And, of course, by the end of his tale, he realises this. But the acquaintance was at fault when he rejected the advice that had so carefully and thoughtfully been given. There's no excuse for that.

So, anyway, who wants to read my latest script then? Any takers? Don't all shout at once!