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"To take an idea and translate it into something material is a beautiful process."
I’ve been a fan of David Lynch‘s films for a long time. I’m not sure when his work first registered on my consciousness. I think it was probably his TV series Twin Peaks–and I only got into it during the second season. However, it was when a friend of mine showed me Lost Highway years later that Lynch popped up firmly on my radar. It’s a film about psychosis and the slipperiness of identity, and I found it a profoundly disturbing, and scary, film. Despite its flaws, Lost Highway is an extraordinary film and one that the viewer does not forget–even if s/he dislikes it. I should back up at…
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something to read
My short story, “Who Hears our Cries in Forgotten Tongues?” is available to read on Flash Me now. I hope you enjoy it. This month is going to be busy, busy, busy as I’ve had more work heaped upon an already crowded schedule. I may be bald by December.
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why I think writing good fantasy is a difficult task
It’s been a long time since I’ve picked up any fantasy novel without a modicum of suspicion. Actually, let me be specific: I’m referring to what could be termed “high” fantasy in particular. This is because the genre seems particularly influenced by the formulaic. It’s a kind of inertia: the prose is tugged towards the verbose, the plots towards hackneyed yarns, and the characters inevitably wander into the graveyard of the stereotypes. Watch out youngster, the zombie of “youth who is unaware of his special lineage” is shambling towards you! Jeepers girlie, you were nearly impaled by the shade of the “sword-wielding bimbo who is also a magician, and smart”.…
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not quite a Tanka; to remember
Little Boy dropped On Hiroshima, in ’45. Buddha’s heart melted As Enola Gay swept by, Leaving the thunder of apocalypse’s hooves In its wake.
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two poems, via Japan
Today I was in a Haiku mood, so I came up with this: The heart is swallowed By despair’s gravity. The mind orbits mute. I wasn’t in the sweetest of moods when I came up with that one, but that’s why writing is a useful cathartic experience. Even the blackest of humours is fodder for something. Then, I considered writing a Tanka, which is a longer form of a Haiku. I wondered if I could write a micro-fiction–with an SF feel– in Tanka form. This was the result: Shattered, I report. Gore vibrates off matt armour. He listens, eyes bright With data streams; orders. “We remain.” I nod, aghast. I…
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genre and prejudice
There’s been a discussion on a writing list I’m on regarding definitions: what is fantasy, what is horror, what is SF, and this started from a discussion on what makes writing “art”. I stayed out of the arguments, which got heated at times. Ultimately, I think the discussion is self-defeating. Labels are only useful when they are used to promote discussion, and celebrate diversity, but often they are used to exclude, and inherently, to reinforce prejudice. Look at how we label people: black, white, straight, gay, working-class, etc. These terms are often (not always) used when people want to put distance between “us” and “them”. In literature there are many…
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a week passes quickly
I can’t believe a week has passed since I last wrote an entry here. It’s weird how time compresses and before you know it a passel of days have trooped past you towards multiple sunsets. I saw a bunch of cool documentaries at the Film Fleadh: Goat Walker, and Ässhäk, Tales from the Sahara, as well as the Siberian folk story, Bride of the Seventh Heaven. The German animated film, Inspector Derrick was good fun, and Zang Yimou’s emotional operatic vision, Hero, ended up being much better than I first thought. During the week I finished Starfish, by Peter Watts, as well as a short novel by Jonathan Lethem called…
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I always enjoy being in the presence of other creative people
My Name is Joe is a profoundly touching film that exhibits the best of the Loach/Laverty partnership: superior writing, accomlished direction, tremendous characters, and phenomenal acting. Yes, this film does deserve those adverbs and adjective. Combined with seeing Ae Fond Kiss (review here) the previous night, I was looking forward to posing a couple of questions to Mr. Laverty during the screenwriter’s masterclass. The Huston School is a curious white building that sits by the river, just across the bridge from the main site of the NUI Galway campus. When the sun is shining, as it was today, it’s a beautiful location. After class I perched on the steps that…
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words, sentences, and films
There are some words that spring out at you when you’re reading, listening to the radio, or watching TV. The other day I heard the adjective, mendacious, being using in the promotion of a play running in Dublin at the moment. What a meaty word. It comes from the noun mendacity, which is: 1 the tendency to be untruthful, or 2 a falsehood. I think it’s a healthy sign of a culture that uses a word like mendacious in its radio adverts. * I bought the horror anthology, Gathering the Bones, the other day. Partly because it has a story in it by Kim Newman–no surprise since I’ve maintained his…
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spending time with a master…
The Galway Film Fleadh will be on next week, which means I’ll be watching lots of movies and not blogging or writing as much. Each year, the Fleadh hosts a director’s and actor’s masterclass, but this year, in conjunction with the Huston Film School, it’s having a screenwriter’s masterclass. Even though I don’t have any “industry experience” I threw together a CV detailing my film-based education and applied for a place. There were more applications than places so I didn’t rate my chances. But yesterday I got a phone call and was informed I’ve been given a place! The masterclass is with Paul Laverty, who has worked closely with director…
