The World Computed Thus

Just to clarify a recent comment on Facebook, I'm talking about a universe where everything that everyone does is completely voluntary and unpredetermined, and is simultaneously and instantly significant to everyone else. For this process to apply to two people is rather mind-bending - i.e. I tell you the dream I had last night at the exact moment when you gain the maximum value (meaningfulness) from hearing about it, and so on. Wouldn't that be astonishing for two people?

But imagine if that applied to everyone on the planet. Every life on Earth being instanteously and profoundly meaningful to every other life on Earth. Possible? No way. The calculations are too vast to comprehend, aren't they?

I reckon they're pretty light-weight calculations in the big scheme of things. I meet you because I have to meet you, even though we both got here freely. I heard that song in the shop because the sales assistant picked it at random, but it's the exact song to make me think of you - because it's the right moment to think about you, yet again. All random. All meaningful. Trillions of precise calculations per second interconnecting five billions freefalling lives.

I think this is my definition of magick.

Scriptin', driftin', cruisin', dreamin'

As you know, I'm no longer in the Neighbours story room. Very maturely, I've re-named a room in my home 'The Story Room'. So I can still say "Hmmm, I'm off to the story room!" and mean it. Such a little thing, but the difference it makes ...

What do I do in my story room? I write speculative scripts, which is truly the best fun in the universe (with clothes on)(note to self: try it without clothes on). One day this activity might even make me money - I CAN DREAM. For now I'm still trying to show Neighbours people that I have useful 'talent' (LOL) and shouldn't be forgotten like the 1,000,000 other trainees who strived for a TV career in the Erinsborough deus-sphere.

"I'm not dead yet!" I cry, despite being thrown on the cart.

In other news, I think Battlestar Galactica has just started screening season 4 in the USA. Damn you, Australian networks!

Facebook is interesting! Who'd a thunk it?

Buffy - The Long Way Home (aka season 8, episodes 1-5) is AWESOME! Are you a Buffy fan? And are you reading it? If not - good grief. Go to a comic store and buy it! This first story arc is written by Joss! This is the show! Profound.

Nothing But Red

Today is the day to remember Du'a Khalil. Please follow this link and hug a woman you love.

Lil' Trinkles

* Just found Amanda the Aspiring TV Writer thanks to Jane Espenson. As always, the net is full of yummy reading. I kinda imagined that this blog might cover my Neighbours experience the same way that Amanda dissects Hollywood, but ... it didn't. I couldn't be objective, therefore I couldn't really share anything useful. And as for the juicy ... maybe another day.
* Portsmouth FC are through to the FA Cup final, for the first time since 1939. I've almost completely forgotten about yesterday's Kangaroos/Hawks debacle.
* I've come across 2 references to Joan Crawford's real name being Lucille LeSueur in the last 24 hours. I never previously knew this. The third is gonna weird me out.

Sunk and countersunk

As you might've guessed, I finished my adventure in Erinsborough last week. I've now had seven days away from the heady world of network TV.

There's been tears. Sorrow. Tinges of despair. And, for a change, wailing.

I lie, I haven't cried once. It was all too weird this time around, and until I figure out an intellectual explanation the emotional disappointment isn't quite so cutting. It just remains a huge WTF hovering in my recent past.

The universe is being kind. Little lessons are appearing everywhere, providing an infrastructure of regrowth and evolution. I don't have a job yet, but I'm feeling better about the current abyss.

I'll try to write here more. The adventure gets good now.

No Joking

I'm now three weeks into my four-week reprise tenure as a trainee storyliner on Neighbours and ... good grief ... I'm awful. Worse than just being bad, I find I'm totally humourless. How does that happen to a person?

I used to be witty and sly and irreverent. Didn't I? Fuck, I hope I did. It seems so difficult to remember the jaunt in my step and the song in my heart. In so many ways my life is wonderfully, gloriously happy, and yet ... I'm just a big dour blob at work. I don't know what to do.

Imagining people naked is not good. I'm imagining some people there naked the whole time and it's not relaxing me.

Being happy there lasts me about ten minutes, 'til that thing (whatever it is) grinds me down again.

I can't really complain about the environment there either. Okay, I lie, of course I could complain. But there's nothing to be gained from that. The Neighbours story community has as many positives as negatives, so it's my fault if I get bogged down by the blues. Blaugh.

So I have one week left to lighten up and be brilliant. Tips welcome.

Found

How awesome is Lost right now? Season 4 is zooming along like a fine automobile after its first three episodes, and - bonus - we're getting them just a few days after the US. The best bit of that is the chance to theorise with world. Lost is all about idle speculation, and the wub is the perfect forum for that kind of fun.

I don't know how I lived before I found Lostpedia, but if you want to see the funny side you've gotta visit Ack. Her recaps are almost as good as the show itself. It's a nice world we've made for ourselves here.

Still here ...

Two weeks until I return to Neighbours. Hello weird other universe.

In this particular universe, I had the pleasure of witnessing the arrival of my daughter Drusilla Selene three weeks ago. Random adjectives both predictable and accurate: gorgeous, divine, sublime, profound.

Other things:
- glad the Writers Strike is over, although I hope the outcome is more in line with Howard Gould and less with Harlan Ellison.
- nice work, Giants, wish it could've been my Seahawks.
- new Malkmus album comes with great offer on-line.
- if you're white, middle-class and open-minded, was it enough to simply applaud Kevin Rudd's monumental apology, or did you actually need to cry too? And carry a supportive sign around town? The criers scare me a little more than the ... okay, no-one scares me as much as the Liberals. But still.
- welcome to a world where you get the pleasure of Freak Angels for free. Bask.
- I trust you're watching Skins (SBS, Monday 10pm), the best show out of the UK in ... oh ... forever.
- heard Prince's Purple Rain in a hardware store the other day and had tingles for the whole seven minutes. Yes, I'm a SAD OLD MAN.
- writing is good ... magickal ... critical. Please remind me when I start to question the point of it all.

Still breathing

I'm on a ten-week break from Neighbours for personal reasons, back in the first week of March. They're giving me one month to prove my worth ... the Ides of March, as it were.

As I won't have interesting TV-world updates until then, I probably won't be adding much here (as you might've noticed). If I think of anything I'll let you know. If you think of anything, pester me through Facebook (or email me ... wow, do I sound like a Luddite or what?!).

If you need something to obsess about, think GO SEAHAWKS!

Confessions on a dunce-floor

Traineeship week 9. This is the last week of the script year, and was looking like my last week too. I found out yesterday they want me back for another month next year, a last chance to prove what I’m capable of. This is a good thing. I’m well aware I haven’t found my voice, both in the story room and in terms of my writing, I can think of a dozen reasons why, and I can address them all over the break. This chance is all I need.

Things got tough in my weeks of no-blogging,. I trusted my abilities, but I knew I was becoming more shy and reserved than I’d ever imagined possible. Whatever energy I had to approach people back on day one had dissipated, and I could barely muster the odd hello. I was all introvert – helpful with some aspects of the writing process, but not a place that engenders confidence. I got heavier and slower, sliding deeper into a morass of fear and denial. Abandoning this blog was part of the descent.

So now I’m back. Block by block, piece by piece, rebuilding, restoring, reawakening. Please allow me to introduce myself ...

No dancing, no ceilings

Been a while, hasn’t it? Ten days. Good grief.

Thinking about it, I’ve been decidedly average the whole time. Maybe the blogging was keeping my brain churning over. Is that possible? Do I need to blog every day just to have my wits about me? Hmmmm. Big long walk into the house of mirrors coming up.

And in news from the breach:
* Election – ha ha ha! Did anyone dare dream a political humiliation so utter and complete?
* Feel like spending over $300 for the complete DVD boxed set of Get Smart? No, me neither, sadly. Ciao, Time/Life.
* How did we live before sushi?
* Seahawks win again, sweeping the hated St.Louis Rams. Such immense glories doth the Lord Sport provide his humble followers.
* Half the population of the world has a mobile phone. Not bad work for just twenty-five years. Possibly the greatest meme since the wheel, maybe?
* Neighbours is going to be really good next year. Really good. I shit you not.
* Harry Redknapp is innocent. I JUST KNOW IT. The rest of the Premier League is totally jealous.
* Whoever thought to divert some of a lawn mower’s power to its wheels was a genius!
* Was there a bit of a breakthrough in the Writers’ Strike this afternoon? Or more bluff? So hard to know. Searching for more info, I came across a poster for a new movie called ‘Timber Falls’. The poster is a terrified woman facing a man armed with a sickle he’s about to rape/kill her with. PLEASE REMIND WHICH WRITERS I’M SUPPOSED TO ROOTING FOR. TA.
* Michael Firrito gets Glenn Archer’s ‘11’ jersey. Good choice, although I could’ve seen it retired like they do in the NFL.
* It’s a good time to succumb to the magnificence of Siouxsie Sioux. Did you all know Jeff Buckley did a cover of Siouxsie’s ‘Killing Time’? I only just found out today.
* GM crops are simply evil, you stupid State Government.
* Battlestar Galactica season 3 is out on DVD ... happy evenings underway.
* Please, don’t anyone talk to me about Lionel fucking Richie. The number of times I have to bite my tongue during the day ...

Yummy gold

One of the nice things about the Neighbours story room is the endless supply of nibbles. Chocolate bars, chip packets, biscuits and yes, even fruit. It’s snackland – which, unsurprisingly, it needs to be. Even bad ideas require a vast amount of energy. And those brilliant ideas ... eeek, pump in the sugar, nurse.

Today had some brilliant moments, both in the room and in the stories we plotted. There’s nothing like disparate story threads suddenly tying themselves together into a coherant and inspired plot. Our word du jour for success is ‘gold’, which perfectly describes what a sublime inspiration is worth in the room.

Sadly, I was off-form until about 3pm. All my ideas were crap, not the point or utterly misguided. In my first week I would’ve died after the first talk-turkey, but these days I feel better about forging forward. It’s humbling to watch your plausible idea get rejected then see the replacement become utterly brilliant. You have to just jump off your train of thought and hop everyone else’s carriage. Then, once you’re firmly on board, start again with the big visions. Much easier said than done, but that was how it played out this afternoon, culminating in another storyliner and I fighting for a scene which turned out to be brilliant. Yay. Relief.

Engraved in history

Okay, it’s been a while. I can explain.

Last Thursday I got to stay home and write half of the fifth. By the ‘fifth’ I mean the Friday episode for the week we were plotting. If you watch Neighbours on Friday, 28 May 2008 that first half of the episode is mine. By that, I mean half the action. None of the dialogue. Or the directing. Or the acting. But all the things that happen are mine. Except for the bits that’ll inevitably get changed. YAY I’M FAMOUS!!

Writing out half an episode should take about half-a-day to a day, tops - but it was my first time, and my son’s birthday, and I live in fucking pollenland, so it took until 2am Friday morning and again from 6:30am to 2:30pm Friday morning. I got a bit exhausted.

But now it’s Monday again, time to write another whole week’s worth of stories. This morning began with my usual two hours of commuting, where I tried to brainstorm ideas for the week ahead. To get my brain to a more creative place I pulled up some Brian Eno. Neighbours and Brian Eno – not an obvious coupling, but there is a link. If you’ve ever seen Richard Lowenstein’s Dogs In Space you might recall the scene where the happily drugged-out kiddies root to Eno’s Sky Saw. Well, Dogs In Space was set in Richmond, and the house used in the film is write around the corner from where we write Neighbours. Therefore neighbours = Richmond = rooting kiddies = Dogs In Space = Brian Eno. Simple! And yes, Michael Hutchence would also do the trick. I really don’t think anything says young love better than INXS’ Never Tear Us Apart, anyway.

OMFG

We got yelled at today! I haven’t been yelled at in years! Hang on, let me qualify that. I haven’t been yelled at by professionals in years. No no, that’s not it. I mean I haven’t been yelled at by professionals who I respect in years. That’s it.

It was weird. Totally weird! I’m no spring chicken, I get the need to lay down some law. But ouch, in a group context it’s so hard to know what to take personally. If I had more experience in team sports I might be able to process this better. “You were all total shit today!” means that most of you underperformed, some of you were okay and a couple of you just played your last match. “But which bits were me!”

I felt that a lot of today’s criticism was aimed at me, but in a group setting I couldn’t talk it through. That killed me! There was no excuses for our transgression (inappropriate silence, if you must know), but there were extenuating circumstances that haven’t changed. So I can’t see how I can guarantee non-naughtiness in future. Argh. Grrr.

In better news, we’re storylining really great stuff. Watch Neighbours. In May 2008. Or now, if you want. You could do worse. Like watching a CSI.

And the Seahawks won 24-0 over the rather inept San Francisco 49ers. YAY! And I got to watch some of it in our tearoom, live from Seattle. Seattle to Richmond, the USA into Neighbours. It felt good in my soul.

Leaping lizards

Today was the last day of my first three weeks, meaning probation period #1 is over. I’m back for another four weeks - yay and hooray.

Have I mentioned I like it? That there’s nothing better in the whole freakin’ world than getting paid to do what you love? And to be challenged to get better and better at what you love ... totally golden.

I know it’s not easy. It took me until I was 37 to realise I had to do something, and that was only because I felt tortured by the parts of the world I hated. I was almost 39 when I defined my goal and took the leap of faith to grab it. I don’t know how to make it easy for you. It’s probably the same process as finding a lover – get out, meet lots and lots of people, and feel a lot of love in your heart.

I might sound naïve to mention ‘love’, but without it you’re fucked. Or, if you’re looking for a lover, not fucked, if you’ll pardon the vulgarity. Love – openness, optimism, faith, belief ... you’ve got to find something.

All about air

Great, but late, day of storylining. I left home at 6:15am and got home at 9:05pm. Just a little fucking mental.

It’s dawning on me I’ve been ill virtually the whole time I’ve been on the show – stupid hayfever, stupid blocked nose! I’m at a stage now where I can feel my brain cloud-up as the oxygen flow to my brain decreases. I have to keep remembering to breathe, I kid you not. There’s times when I find myself being vague or argumentative and I realise I’m barely breathing at all. You need air to live, kids! Just in case you weren’t sure.

And got to see my name in print for the first time today! I’m right there on the coversheet of Neighbours Scene Breakdown Block No. 1091 ... Trainee Storyliners: Trent Griffiths and Mark Dickenson. In case I haven’t mentioned it, Trent is also from my RMIT Professional Screenwriting course. Three months ago we were sitting in the same ‘Writing for TV’ class. Now we’re plotting the fate of Ramsay St. World = wonderful.

Joss Whedon fans please note the great man has blogged twice in the last two days about the Writers Guild strike. Check out Whedonesque and follow the appropriate headlines. Ah, the strike. Every great writer in Hollywood is on the pickets. How I wish I was there ... it’s the social gathering of the millenium! And the actors too, good grief. Joss bumped into Alyson Hannigan and Alexis Denisof in the street handing out donuts. FEED ME DONUTS, WILLOW! *SOB*

Choose your handicap

Melbourne Cup Day is not a holiday in Erinsborough. Another day, another forty scenes - it’s an amazing process. Today was a plotting out another first and second (ie. Monday and Tuesday episodes). I haven’t been assigned an episode write-up yet, which is fine – my attempt last week was so lame I can’t bring myself to hand it over. Crazy, I know, but the more I look at it the less I know how to improve it. What kind of cruel phenomenon is that?

Aside from Pakistan devolving into anti-chaos, the planet’s big news for me at the moment is the Writers Guild of America strike. I don’t get to see TV news very often so I don’t know how (or even if) it’s being reported. Is it being reported? In general, it’s a great and noble struggle against the shallowest greediest heart of darkness in corporate America. I’m hugely proud of everything these writers are doing. If you have a few moments, maybe check out the blogs of people like Alex Epstein, Brian K Vaughn, John Rogers and the usual suspects (Ken, Jane, Tim, anyone). I hear the best overview is at United Hollywood, but I haven’t seen for myself yet.

At this point it’d probably be appropriate to add a plug for our own Australian Writers Guild, a similarly fine and worthy organisation ... However, I’m not too thrilled with their decision to put an evil misogynistic scumbag on the cover of their latest mag, so fuck ‘em. Fuck ‘em and the horses they rode in on.

Happy Cup Day!

Blah blah look at me look at me blah blah

So Week 3 begins. I did another unnecessarily long pitch to the room this afternoon, but that seems to be unavoidable now. I tried to be brief, and I was a nightmare. At least I don’t stammer or drone any more.

Amusingly, Ken Levine’s blog last Friday had a list of all things you can say when your pitch to a room full of writers falls flat. Damn me for not printing it out and taping it in my folder.

The big news at the moment is the birth of a new Joss Whedon TV series. If you don’t know about The Dollhouse, get reading. The love is pure.

You've been poked? Really?

It seems people in TV use FaceBook. Writer, producers, executive producers ... what does it all mean? Layer after layer, I find myself slipping into this new world.

Today was wonderful. Frenetic disagreement over story that remained respectful and constructive. This is heaven.

Recommended: go buy 'Preparations' by Prefuse 73.

Yeah, I'm cool ... totally cool

I enjoyed today. I did a lot of talking and I think most of it was useful. I’m feeling ill (sore throat and general fuckedupedness), so I can’t be 100% sure I’m reading the situation right. But in the universe inside my brain it was all good. Yay inside universe.

Back when I was a Team Leader in the finance industry (1,000 years ago), sometimes my new staff would furtively inquire how I thought they were going. Most times I blurted out “You’re going great!” which they were, and “I’d let you know if you weren’t” which I would’ve. But I remember being puzzled that they were so worried. That joke’s on me now. What I’d give for a rating from ten every time I open my mouth. It turns out I’m the neediest fucking trainee in the world. I hope the irony amuses some of you.

Aside from this characteristic self-consciousness (OMFG, no-one laughed at that magnificent witticism – I am a TOTL LOSR!), I think I’m also in a weird situation professionally. There are currently four jobs and four people happily doing those four jobs. There are also three of us trainees. TRAINEES FOR WHAT? you might ask. This is what I’m asking. In my inside universe. Yay inside universe. I like your answers.

And sorry about the split infinitives. Stupid writing.