These blog posts have been desultory to say the least. Though a word like desultory can’t exactly be thought of as the elast. I think I need to rethink the idea of the blog and use it more as a public diary, a blog if you will, rather than anything grander. After all, if I get an idea to write something specific, I like to pitch it to a publication and preferably get paid for it. So consider this paragraph a mission statement for the rest of the blog posts going forward.
This paragraph is going to be about what I’ve been up to in the meantime as a mixture of filling you in and braggadocio. My braggadocio so far has been desultory. This year I’ve hyper-drived on the film festivals. As well as my usual Cannes and Venice, I’ve also done Locarno and Pingyao in China, from whence I’ve just returned. There was also an invitation to Maccao that I had to pass on due to the fact I actually have another job and a family and what not. China reignited my urge to travel. I’ve been to a lot of different places in my life but China made them all seem pretty much the same. Believe it or not there are bits of Barrow-in-Furness almost everywhere you go but sometimes you go far enough and it all changes. I’d like to do more of that kind of travelling. Then I can go back to Barrow-in-Furness suitably refreshed.
As far as the writing has gone, there has been progress. Two film scripts are moving forward, inching snail-like across the snakes and ladders board of development. One novel is almost guaranteed to be published next year, by hook or by crook or by something that might look like vanity publishing but most certainly isn’t. Another is doing the rounds and a third is still mid way between the noggin and my red topped unofficial version of Word 2017. There’s also the Orson Welles play which we performed in August and which will be due a revival sometime next year. The journalism lurches all over the shop. I’ve started publishing in a wider variety of outlets but with freelance budgets shrinking the chase isn’t always worth the ace.
Going into Winter is always tough. It’s a season I find increasingly hard to deal with. I’ve grown resistant to the insistent three month long jolliness of Christmas. It’s like the madness around bacon, it takes something that isn’t bad and turns it into shit by insisting it’s marvellous. Hunter S. Thompson starts his wonderful Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail by talking about the need for fires, big fires in your life, when you’re staring down the barrel of December. I’ve stocked up on several quintals of wood and with my upside down fire technique - learned last year - I’m in pretty good stead for seeing it out.
Okay. I guess that’s it for now. I’m going to try to do this more regularly and it won’t all be about me. I’ll throw in some stuff about you just to keep you interested. Specifically about your nose-picking when you think no one is looking and the way you occasional eat it. I don’t blame you. It’s salty and full of vitamins.
John Bleasdale is a writer. His work has appeared in The Guardian, The Independent, Il Manifesto, as well as CineVue.Com and theStudioExec.com. He has also written a number of plays, screenplays and novels.