Tomorrow, my year begins, and I find myself wanting to stretch out the hours before it a little longer. You see, essentially, for the next six months, I'm going to play at full time writer so that I can finish A Walking Tour of the Dreaming City and the critical component for the phd by the middle of the year. I say play because there's no money anywhere in it, and because I'm not a very disciplined individual. For years I've done my writing in the time I could snatch, force, or fall into. Depending on the week, that time varied. But this year, I've made the promise not to tutor at University, where I was making lovely money, but never able to fully eek out the time to need to do all the work with. I'm still keeping the coaching college job, because I need some, but I've basically managed to free up my week. So, outside the odd bits of work, and workshops, and whatever one of money paying things I can scrape together, it's gnawing on the old bones of everything for six months and writing.
I have no idea how it's going to work, but I figure the key is a schedule.
Like, y'know, one of those daily schedules. Get up at this time. Yawn and scratch here. Eat now. Insert witty line. That kind of schedule. I've never had one of those, but I hear they're really good for getting work done, and I've made one up, of which I will spare you the details. I am calling it, however, Schedule One, because I suspect there will be a Two, and a Three, and a Four, Five, Six, and Nine.
This is what I call realistic optimism.
I'm not sure how it'll impact on the Urban Sprawl Project, but I promise that there won't be any word count updates. I'm fairly sure I'd lie in them, anyhow. There probably won't be any real impact, I guess, since I view this blog here as a recreational thing and I keep it going for that, but who knows. In case you're keeping tabs, btw, the Indian pop music has been turned down, and the night is now cool and empty but for the scores of Ennio Morricone.
Also, to add to this update, I went and saw the Incredibles, possibly to wash that awful bad eighties porn film taste of Blade Trinity from my mouth. I'm sure everyone has heard about it, due to the promotional push going round, and indeed, before the film began, I learnt that I could buy a video game, a happy meal action figure, and some other useless shit that they've marketed for it. Twenty fucking minutes later, the film began with an irritating little short film about a vain sheep. I often find myself asking why Pixar feel the need for these, but I guess it's a medium that isn't often used. Least they could do is something good, however.
The film itself, despite the big advertising slash cross promotional push, is a fine bit of fun. Imagine James Bond music and set pieces with the Fantastic Four powers switched around, and existing as a family in suburbia, while the genius is the villain, and you've pretty much got the make up of it. But it's slick and enjoyable, and I can seriously sit and listen to Holly Hunter read shopping lists, if she so desired. There's a scene where Samuel L. Jackson's voiced character Frozon (name equals power, so he freezes shit) that's a riff on his Pulp Fiction performance, and even though it rings a bit untrue in the film, it's still funny--and possibly the one bit of dialogue that I liked the most.
There's really no need to critique the whole thing. It's a simple film with that whole colourful fun side of superheroes on display, and unlike Blade Trinity, you won't be left with the desire to brutalise cinema staff afterwards.
Well, you might, I guess. Ticket prices are ridiculous.