The World in Review


Do you ever get the impression you're juggling too many projects at once? Maybe you're the kind of person with a focused mind that knows that the only way to get to Point B from Point A is to not randomly go off on a side-road on the search for Point C.

Yet this seems to be happening to me, like, all the time. Which is why, despite every natural instinct in my body, I'm going ahead with this short film I'm writing, despite something in my brain egging me to ditch it and write a short-form web-sitcom. Because if there's one thing I haven't tried and abandoned yet, it's web sitcoms. I'm also plowing ahead with the webcomic, slowly but surely. I kind of blame the vlogbrothers, especially Hank Green, for this. There's something about their amazingly varied careers and mix of projects - vlogbrothers, Crash Course, SciShow, 2D Glasses, VidCon, that made me want to do everything. I wonder if envy is a good motivator.

But, here, on the horizon, a new project appears! It's called The Asian Cinema Critic, and it's essentially just a review site for films from East Asia. There's not a whole load of content on there yet but I do want it to be a hub for all kinds of films from the region. It sprang up when I was looking for a review of Police Story 2013 and found only one or two. Now that one of my favourite asian cinema review sites, Snowblood Apple, is down (and has been for some time), I thought I'd jump on it. It's a bit barebones at the moment, but I'm hoping in the future to include essays and editorials, if it gets big. Right now, it's just a place for me to put down my thoughts on films as I watch them. It's fun and it's helping keep me writing and analytical with film - two things that I need to keep up to date with.

Oh, that and drawing. Tried my hand at a 100 Days of Drawing thing, but bailed out at around thirty. Not that I couldn't, just more that I was having the hardest time actually finding something to draw, and then drawing it to the point where I liked it enough to upload. Didn't have the highest standards by any means, but a lot of them were awful and never made it online. A few can be found below. Most were either Final Fantasy or Discworld themed.

They say that talking about your goals is the worst thing you can do to achieve them. Only now I've just written a bunch of words about it, and frankly, I don't want to delete them all and write a whole new blog entry. That sounds difficult.


- Blog. I haven't spoken to you in a while. I have, instead, been posting up pictures or stories or silly videos. And I'm going to continue doing so, cos it's fun. Spring Heeled Jack is now on hold, and might not be go for my project next year. I came to the conclusion when I tried to render a relatively-completed scene, with two light sources but no difficult texturing that it took about ten minutes for a single frame to finish. I probably can't afford all that time. That and I don't know enough about anything to get to the level of quality it should be. Either way, it's on hiatus and I'm working on something more Pixar-esque without any dialgoue. In more positive news, the writing for my still untitled story is going well, midway through my third chapter. I do need to pick up the pace though if I wanna finish by the end of the year, with enough time to proof read and edit anything I have to. More and more things are piling up for me to do, I'm starting to miss not doing anything. I'm going to leave you with another extract from the story, this time introducing some of the characters which will kick into gear the main action of the story: -------------- The team consisted of three members. They had set out from their city a week ago, as soon as word of the bombings had reached them. There would have been no sense in going out in the world if the plan hadn’t worked out. They didn’t have a great deal of ways of communicating, but recently the government had managed to, as they said, “hitch a lift” on a few satellites, allowing them to communicate long distance. Radio waves only worked so far it seemed. They had set off in a black GMC van which was much too big for only three people. They didn’t have any equipment, or at least not nearly enough to fill a GMC truck with, but they felt it fit better than a car. Besides, there was more room in here in case they needed to bring Richard or anyone else back. They drove on for hours, which led to days, switching driving duties every so often and passing country borders all the time. No one stopped them, or asked them for ID. Even if they saw the van they didn’t give it a second thought. It was there, then gone a second later. If asked, they probably couldn’t even recall a single number on the registration. They stopped for food, but nobody even noticed them take anything. Nonetheless, when they had to, they parked where they would not be seen, and slept in the van. So far, they hadn’t done anything which would cause them to be seen, or noticed, and things were better that way. They had heard of what had happened to Kall and Salli. Guedal had been captured by the police, fair and square. Hopefully if he kept his head down they might forget about him and he could escape. But Kall and Salli. The team had been informed that there was someone after them, someone who knew they were there. Whoever it was knew the team, and Kall, Salli and Guedal, and were a threat. They’d probably try anything to keep things the way they were. They sometimes regretted that they hadn’t taken a vehicle with more windows. They didn’t just pass through towns, villages and countries, but through cultures, customs and folklore. Through Eastern Europe, where the roads got thin, small and sometimes even took them through forests, they would see things they had never before. As they crossed the Kranja forest, they saw, between the thick-set trees, an old rickety cottage standing on enormous chicken legs, swaying back and forth. As they drove deeper into the woodland, the driver pointed out a tall, thin man running alongside the van, a trail of vines flowing behind him, accompanied by silver wolves. Before they could get another look at him, he vanished into the trees. When conversation began to lull in the van, someone would always recap the mission briefing as if they would, somehow forget all about it and think they were just on the way to Big Ben for the week. It was pretty straightforward. No one said it though, no one even thought it. After all, the last thing you want to do, just before something as important as this, is say “what can go wrong?” because it seems there’s always someone with an answer to it. When they got to Brittany things got a little more complicated. It seemed getting on a ferry with a massive GMC van wasn’t going to be as easy as the rest of the trip. It took them almost a day to find a ferry they could get on without being spotted. They had taken the only night ferry, which left at nine. It was by far the emptiest ferry, with only four or five travellers aboard. They spent the trip on the deck, admiring the sea and the breeze, and the little bit of freedom they had before they’d have to be stuck in the van again. Once in England, though, it was a short trip from the small fishing town of Dover to the massive buzzing metropolis of London. The roads were relatively decent, too, they found, compared to most of what they had been driving on this whole time. But eventually, a whole week after having received the initial report, they arrived in London. It was the early hours of the morning when they made it to the heart of the city and had seen the city transform from the pulsing beast illuminated by blue and orange at night to the somewhat quieter, brighter place it became in the day. --------

This blog entry contains ....... lyrics

I'm going to open with LYRICS, people
In the queue for lunch they take the piss, you've got no appetite And the rumour is you never go with boys and you are tight So they jab you with a fork, you drop the tray and go berserk While your cleaning up the mess the teacher's looking up your skirt ... Tell Veronica the secrets of the boy you never kissed She's got everything to gain because she's a fat girl with a lisp She sticks up for you when you get aggravation from the snobs Because you can't afford a blazer, girl, you're always wearing clogs
It's Expectations by Belle & Sebastian. It's only two of the verses. 6 of them, I think there are. They've been stuck in my head all day. The whole song has, in fact, and I thought I'd share them so everyone else would get that in their heads. I've listened to barrage and barrage of songs to get them out of my head. Nothing works. Right now, I have Meat Loaf blaring in my ears. Up next, Mr Children. All this is making me somewhat drowsy and unproductive. Perhaps today will be one of those days when ... *shudder* I do nothing? This blog entry's taken me like four hours to do so far. I wrote about a sentence before doing something else, then going back to this, then went to Tesco for the sole reason that it was outside, then wrote a bit more, and now I've just come back from my dinner and am typing more than I have done today. It's also going nowhere. I'm certain i had a good reason for clicking on the "add post" button, but I can't for the life of me think of why. Oh well. It's Saint Patrick's Day today, and people seem to embrace it as an excuse to get drunk. Since when have people needed that? I am not going out, which is probably a good thing cos I can barely stand this medium volume Mr Children tonight. I wish it wasn't 9. If I go to bed now I'll wake up at 3 in the morning. In more positive news, I have figured out my steps to being a writer. It involves doing it for free first. See THIS or THIS (the first one is still unfinished, about a year since I started writing it). They're sketches I wrote for Gang Show (for those not street enough, it's an amatuer non-profit stage production of debatebly funny sketche and song-and-dance numbers done by the scouting association). Having been in two myself, I thought I'd try my hand at writing sketches which is surprisingly tough, especially the first premise bit. My plan (although plans never work. Ever.) is to give these sketches to the GS, thus making me "semi-published"(a performed playwright, though, technically, as people will be paying to see it) and thus have a sort of "background" in writing, which will look good when I start doing that stuff I'm not going to do for years. I think a night-walk is required here. It shall clear my head. I shall clean my room first a bit, so that it's all nice when I come back. If this doesn't work, I'll head to bed with my copy of The Jungle Book, which is a really damn good book I have to admit. I reccomend people go read it now if they're only familiar with the Disney version (although prepare to read something completely different).

Last of the Heroes

There's a story, which came to me in 2005. It featured a lot of gods, a powerful wizard, some less powerful wizards and few wizards that were more powerful than the first one mentioned. The heroes of the story weren't wizards though and were perfectly ordinary. Althougb two of them had a magic power, and one was a "mage" (not to be confused with a wizard though, mind you) and then there was in fact a wizard in the team. But he wasn't a full wizard. Whoever was left over I'm fairly certain were ordinary human beings with no magical abilities whatsoever, but it's so hard to be sure in my head. Oh yes, I had a point. The story was formed slowly from doodle after doodle. The two main characters (the ones with the magical powers but aren't wizards. Try to follow) had been created in a half-delusional state whilst catching up with some Media Studies work and being made to sit in a tiny room with two of my friends watching the Matrix, the year before. They had ridiculous names (Gord Marann and Shara [last name forgotten]) but somehow they stuck. The main villain evolved, and then devolved and then disappeared for a while, but returned shortly after and nothing much had changed from when I had first created him. But aside from all that I created a story about the world possibly being destroyed if someone didn't stop the NINE TITANS, the great big evil elements, from returning and making a mess all over the place.There's a back story, see, where these nine elements are all siblings but they fight and the world goes all awry and then they eventually kill each other one way or another. It was a good story, at the time, and it is a good story now. But they are, in one way or another, completely different. The first story was one I set out to write cos I was bored and wanted to put this thought down somewhere, and then it evolved (but didn't devolve. not much anyway) and I finished it in 2006 sometime. But by that time, I thought that the first part of the story sucked because I couldn't write to save my life at the time, so I rewrote it, then I rewrote the second part and now I look at it and think damn, this needs some rewriting. I changed the title from something that looked ToA:LotBR (when abbreviated) to Onslaught of Darkbishop to Onslaught and now it's become Last of the Heroes. The second part is still called One Tin Soldier. I don't plan on changing that just yet. So will I ever be happy with this piece? Probably. I have thought of a few changes here and there to make the idea less like Lord of the Rings meets a weekly trip to Fantasy Cliches 101 and more like Something Original By Basil Baradaran. I'll get it right one day. Hopefully soon. I have an entire armoury of ideas (completely original, this time) I want to throw onto this world and it doesn't feel right starting the series with something other than this.

On, and on, and on

So many ideas, so little time to write them all in. Critical analysis today gave me an awesome Avargado (that's the setting for such stories as Under Her Wing, and full novels Last of the Heroes, One Tin Soldier and Vaeun) involving the creation of the camera. John Berger's crazy-ass show Ways of Seeing gave me the idea, so thanks John for that. That's one more idea to the ever-increasing project list. So far they include: rewriting/editing Last of the Heroes and One Tin Soldier, finishing up Dial M 2, getting to work with Maze, and finishing, hopefully, this Scroogical (a poem based on A Christmas Carol) which I've been working on for two years. I also bought graphic novel Death: Time of Your Life, and although I love Gaiman's work, I can't believe I just spent so much on something with less than a hundred pages... It'll definitely be a damn good read in any case. Now time to continue writing, as these words aren't going to make themselves.