The psychology of writing never ceases to amaze me. After a weekend of being unable to concentrate or stay in my seat, this morning I just glued my arse to the chair (not literally - I used semen instead of glue) and got on with it and within an hour or so was at the point where I had three quarters of the script completed and a very clear idea of where I was going with the rest of it.
I don't get why I couldn't do this on Saturday (although maybe my brain was a bit frazzled from the Thursday cocktails still) - I didn't have any massive revelation. Being in the right frame of mind is important, but I think most of being a writer is probably overcoming self-doubt and self-criticism. I get mainly stymied by myself either thinking that what I am doing is not good enough or by my fear of failure or by some self-destructive urge to be unsuccessful. Because if you don't really try then you can pretend to yourself that you'd have been a success if you had. Yeah, it's pathetic. But these are the psychological hurdles you have to jump over to write a cock-obsessed rewrite of history.
I simplified the plot a great deal and cut out quite a few characters and locations. I also bumped the action ahead to 1907 rather than 1904. I had really wanted to make the skellington of the action as historically accurate as possible, even though I would be taking massive liberties within that, but even as I wrote the first two drafts I sensed that this was a mistake. I was starting with the birth of the Tsar's fourth daughter, but in sitcom terms it's probably important to have all the major characters in place at the beginning. So by moving things to 1907 the series can start with the young Tsarevich's haemophilia becoming an issue. But more importantly the family group is all established.
Anyway, I am pleased with what I've got and I think I've done all the things that the executive wanted doing and I hope that this script will now be put forward for consideration. Then there's a few more hurdles to leap and hoops to get through and quicksand waiting to suck the whole idea off to sitcom purgatory. But a glimmer of hope burns inside me. I think this might just get through. It will only have taken me 20+ years to get the idea from my brain to the screen.
And talking of psychology of comedy, some stuff I did for an interview for Psychology magazine formed the basis of
this story on Chortle. It's a website read by all comedians who I am sure will be delighted to see me questioning their sanity. But at least I question my own. And for today at least the Chortle front page looks a bit like a Lee and Herring website with five or six articles directly or indirectly referencing one or both of us and Talking Cock being the podcast of the week and Baconface (whoever he is) being interviewed and talking a lot about Stewart Lee.
Tickets for the third season of Richard Herring's Edinburgh Fringe Podcast are already
on sale. Let's sell this mofo out! It's also worth checking out
the entire line-up at the Stand. Some really fantastic acts that you will definitely need to book now for. Hopefully I can get a few of them on the podcast. Good to see Baconface is on at the Stand too. I wonder if after an hour in a small room, wearing that mask, whether the bacon actually cooks (assuming it's uncooked when it goes on). Perhaps he could serve up breakfast to one lucky audience member if he cracks an egg on his head too.
I felt really excited about the Fringe today. It's ridiculous how quickly I manage to repress the memories of the Hell it can be (especially last year which was a struggle at times). But let's not think too much about the work and stress involved and just rejoice that once again I am part of this incredible arts festival. It will be the 22nd time I have gone up there and my 35th and 36th shows. The real landmark for me this time is that "We're All Going To Die!" will be my tenth different stand-up show in ten consecutive years.
Well today is a day of hope, a day where dreams still play out before being shattered with an ice-pick. Probably the biggest example of that is that tonight I went on line and bought loads of car washing stuff and a car vaccuum cleaner. The intention is for me to keep this new car in a pristine state and wash it once a fortnight. But I bet that most of this car cleaning equipment remains unused.
But without the hope of a better future we are nothing. Let us swim in the lagoon of optimism on such days, because someone will soon pull out the plug and send us whirlpooling into the sewer of despair.
