Monday 23 February 2009

Complet...

I really thought I had gotten rid of it. But just like the two chicken pox scars on my chest it is probably something that I will carry with me to the grave. It is nothing more than a trait, but it is an awfully annoying one. My inability to complete things I start.

It has been with me since I can remember. When I would think of something it would be with such enthusiasm that I would start with enjoyment and momentum. And then, just like that, the enthusiasm wavers and the enjoyment slowly trickles away and suddenly I’m grinding to a halt. I thought it was mostly because I was lazy and didn’t want to put in too much effort, the ideas were good but my focus was obviously ragged. This self made belief rested well with me for years, it was attaching something to the unknown that enabled me to shrug it off knowing full well that I am just too lazy to finish a difficult job. I think I formed it around about the same time I considered working part time in Blockbusters watching the latest films probably the best job in the world.

But just like the Pulp song “Something changed”. Obviously but completely unexpectedly I started to concentrate in improving my focus. This was fuelled by injustices of the world and closer to home which could not altered unless I took issues more seriously and thus develop the focus to finish mundane but necessary tasks, push through the barrier of uncertainty, when you sort of feel that you are not sure why you are doing this. In fact, I still do this quite a lot but even from doing it a few times I was beginning to finish things that I would have left without even thinking twice knowing full well that my initial belief of ‘it’s because I’m a slacker’ was justification and reason enough not to complete the task. This blog, is a good example. Although cajoled into starting one I soon realised that it was a virtual carte blanc for my ideas and inky fingers to get hold of. However, after a few months the gusto dwindled and ideas dried up faster than my contact lens do that I considered not bothering anymore. But with the morsel of improved focus I was able to push myself to type until the topics to write about retuned in abundance. It felt good writing but also good knowing that in a small way I had self improved. I no longer believed in this ‘well it’s because I’m a slacker’. Truth is I am not, or I am not one anymore and it felt good. I liked pushing myself a bit. But this did not settle my initial fear and loathing of not completing most things I started. In fact it reopened the wound in the same way you dig out an avocado pip, and it left me lost.

It dawned on me last week when I was thinking about the reasons why I shudder at completing things. It never was because I was lazy and ‘too cool to go to school’. That had been addressed, this was a stark realisation which kind of left me slightly cold but I’m pretty sure everyone gets that same feeling. The feeling of failure. Why bother finishing something if it ends up totally rubbish? You might as well cut your losses, call it a day. Consider it a learning experience and move onto something new. There is no point in completing something if you feel it will turn out to be a failure. My mind just wasn’t computing the concept of finishing something that would end as a disaster, so for years this was the true reason why I never finished things I started but managed to submerge it deep down in my subconscious.

I guess the reason for this entry and why I am writing out my thoughts to get to this point and then explain my point to myself (and you of course). I spent last Tuesday morning debating to start on the 3rd draft of my story. The 2nd draft took nearly 8 months to complete and there I found myself sitting in a café musing whether it was worth a 3rd draft. The story is basically done, it could stand alone but it is not finished. Supping on my coffee I realised that the 3rd draft would probably bring it to an end or at the very least bring me closer to being entirely happy with it. But what is stopping me is not the potential 8 months reading, rereading, writing, deleting and then reinserting again. I think I could cope with all that to a certain extent. It is the idea of spending all this time and energy writing something that in turn would end up being rubbish and a failure. It was strange moving my mindset to accept that I had finished my story just like that over a large Americano on a rainy grey Tuesday in February.

It took about thirty seconds before I reversed my decision. I had spent so much time, I mean since July 07 until now, piecing it all together, times where I was knackered but knew it was important to struggle on, times where I had been out drinking all night to come home and fire up the laptop because I thought of something new to add to the story. I would write in the rain, or in the blazing sun always adding to this crazy tapestry that was once a thought. I would write in various locations ranging from, the library, all sorts of cafes, on a toilet, the train, a beach, on grass, in bed, in the park, in the airport. Even at work I would occasionally get an idea and quickly cobble a paragraph together to refine later on that night. And then there are the people that took time out to read my 1st draft and give me feedback so I could write a better 2nd draft. And those that read the 2nd version who did the same to help me refine the next update, surely it is harsh on them and makes all their efforts redundant. And all the tunes I listened to whilst typing away, Sigur Ros, The Album Leaf, Air, Bjork, Babyshambles, Coldplay, Emiliana Torrini, Jamie T, Jose Gonzalez, Kanye West, The Killers, Kula Shaker, Lali Puna, M83, Madeliene Peryroux, Massive Attack, Oasis, Portishead, Psapp, Roni Size, Sebastien Tellier, The Thrills, Tricky, The Cardigans, Cat Power, The Eagles, Libertines, Metro Area… I could go on for ages, but I listened to all their music for help emotionally to write this thing, evoking memories or fuelling my imagination that kind of left me drained and it would be a waste, all of it, if I just considered it finished even though I know full well it is not.

I guess too much of me is involved in this thing now, even if I read it in ten years time and laughed embarrassingly to myself at what I wrote all those years ago. It doesn’t really matter does it? It is, at very least a reminder of just how I was and thought at that time and so it is important I finish it for myself. Correct the misuse of tense (and there are a lot of them), develop the characters and strengthen the main story line. And even if it is a failure and I read it afterwards with my head in my hands, it will have been completed and that in it self is some sort of achievement. Now, when I begin the 3rd draft is another matter.

Thursday 12 February 2009

The last stand of the early 90’s

I was lying on my bed aimlessly flicking through the television channels when something made me shake my head and lean my head forward (as if this was going to unveil more). There in front of me was an advert for Beverly Hills 902010. Surely, this was some kind of mistake I thought turning up the volume so I could hear the deep voiced man from E4 give his synopsis. And there it all became apparent, Beverly Hills 90210 had be remade for 2009. 90210, as it is now called will have its work cut out to achieve the success of its predecessor. I mean, for a start in the early nineties they were all donning white t-shirts with waist coats and ripped jeans (perhaps a symbolic gesture to the 80s). Would this new show revolve around twins and their honest family, only for the female twin to embroil herself with the local bad boy who looked 30 when he was supposed to look 18? The male twin who was the grounded down to earth one would spend his time pursuing his journalism career with the geek (but secretly well fit when she took of her glasses and dropped her hair) Andrea who was constantly searching for some travesty to uncover at the local high school. Surely this new version cannot compete, I thought. Or was I just being nostalgic and forgetting that sometimes when things are remade they are actually better. But then I remembered David Silver, the guy who was a year younger than the ‘cool lot’ and even though he tried always failed to get in with the gang. That was until he ‘allegedly’ spent one summer taking extra lessons for extra credit and found himself in their year a few seasons later. From then on he became accepted by the cool gang, neglected his best friend who subsequently shot himself, and epitomised ‘cool’ which was typified by his keyboard playing skills. Now, how about that for a story line! There is no doubt that 902109 for 2009 has its work cut out but this isn’t just the reason why I’m writing this now.

What I then began to realise was just how much things come full circle. When the original 90210 came out on TV Great Britain was in a receding economic environment and as we are in one now a revamped version of the American high school drama has made its way on to our screens. OK, it’s a tenuous link but then Gladiators was remade last year and I think that was launched way back in the early nineties. They even recruited an ex-footballer just like they did with John Fashanu way back in the day. Could it be that television reacts to the repetitive economic climates by regurgitating old shows from when we were all in a trough? I tired to think about the relationship about music and the recession and during that time Nirvana seemed to typify the current mood but I can’t think of anyone right now that is doing the same. But still music is a good way of discovering the general feeling. When the recession in the early nineties ended we entered a new era in full steam with indie band Oasis spearheading the ‘Britpop’ scene where it seemed everyone loved this type of music (well apart from America). It then moulded into ‘Cool Britannia’ and then the country was on a high for some apparent reason.

So this leaves me musing that in a couple of years time, say 2012, indie will make a come back and the forever young Jarvis Cocker will rise once again to take his throne as Britain comes out of the gloom. By 2014 everyone will be feeling great about living in ol’ blighty. Although I doubt it’ll be dubbed ‘Cool Britannia’ but am sure someone else will find a term to capture the moment. And a few years on from that when the economy begins to creak once more and the recession looms I’ll keep and eye out for 90210 Generation X Style but how I wish they would remake Rising Damp.

In other news, this snow is pretty intense. I tried to take the laid back approach but since the snow has turned into ice and I fell over I don’t like it anymore. Here are some pics before it all turned to slush.




Thursday 5 February 2009

Nothing Much

Thinking about it recently and particularly today, there’s nothing much been happening. Perhaps my life is nothing more than a bore or that I have lost the ability to remember things. Or maybe I’m just knackered. Ok, currently the snow has affected me by preventing a journey to work today but that didn’t give me the bug to scribble something down. What I had noticed about the white stuff was that it has managed to wrestle top spot on all the news agendas from the ever present ‘credit crunch’ saga. In fact I found myself sitting on my bottom step thinking who invented this term ‘credit crunch’. Was it said nonchalantly by an economist during a Channel 4 news interview? Or perhaps it was Nick Robinson the politics man for ITV (I’m sure he used to be on the BBC) who mentioned it one day in a broadcast. Or perhaps The Sun or The Mail paid someone to spend all day thinking of buzz words to encapsulate something so intricate and complicated that by saying the term everyone else will understand what they mean without knowing what they actually mean. If you know what I mean!

Have been ignoring television recently and I don’t know why. Seems like anything I want to watch is never on during a time I feel like watching television. Instead I have started to listen to some Radio 4. Some of it is boring (actually I find it hard to understand) but the good stuff is good. Currently I have been getting into listening to some Parliament show that’s on in the night. It’s just a recap of what happened in Parliament that day with clips of people debating with one another. I smirk every time I hear them say ‘My right honourable gentleman’ and then proceed to tear his/her argument apart by insinuating the party they belong to are nothing more than corrupt aristocrats who spend money at the same rate Jimmy Carr delivers controversial jokes. Still, I often find myself trying to put the faces to the voices and almost all the time there’s a vision of a fat balding man in a smart suit and if they are female it’s always a focussed power suited woman with intelligent eyes. I then sigh and realise that I truly have let my impressions be led by the ever enticing stereotype.

What I have been getting into recently are audio books. How I wished I discovered them earlier as this has become my favourite way to imbibe knowledge (by not actually concentrating and letting my subconscious do all the work). So far I have listened to the galvanising voice of Barack Obama talking about his experiences within the senate in The Audacity of Hope. Then there’s some narrator I have never heard of tell me the tale of A Tale of Two Cities. I have been listening to some Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix too. Ok, I’m not going to learn much from Harry Potter but it’s still entertaining. If you ever find yourself not sure what to bung on your iPod, go do a search for ‘audio books’ on iTunes and you’ll be in for a treat.

I’m going now, my tea bag has seemed to have dried up and want to wash it before it sticks to the base.