The Dodgy Second Act

I'm back at uni for my second year and so far I am under-whelmed. We have lots to do, don't get me wrong; a tv series to develop, a theoretical essay on authorship, a script editing exercise followed by the real thing plus various other stuff. But I feel incredibly unexcited about it all.

My trip to Australia was great and made me think in a way I had not thought before. Not to say I had a 'profound' experience or anything, it was just enlightening and eye opening. We rented a dilapidated van and drove across South Australia from the mountains of Jindabyne to the deserts of the fabled Australian outback, getting into a series of mishaps and unexpected detours. What it did, in a lasting sense, was make me want to move on from where I've been standing still for so long. I have been in Bournemouth way too many years now, and this course is another thing, another reason, to stay in a place I'm really starting to resent. And the work is just not holding my interest enough to compensate this feeling of lethargy. It feels as if I am losing my faith in scriptwriting. Like I have known for years the reality of the industry but refused to wake up to it. These days I'm more inclined to accept reality rather than reimagine it through rose tinted spectacles.

Just to clarify - the only thing I have ever wanted to do for a living is write. I'm not one of these fresh faced 18 yr olds who decided at the last minute to be a writer because their English teacher once told them they wrote a good short story about some shit no one cares about. I know that makes me sound like a total arsehole, but it is true. Half of these people don't have a real long term investment in writing, its just an option they took because a) they thought it'd be easy, b) they couldn't get onto BATV production or c) they wanted to be involved in a predominantly creative course as opposed to an academic one. I am not one of these guys or girls who made a choice at the last minute. I have always written and told stories. It's my only skill worth developing. I used to be an idealistic dreamer, these days I'm more of a dickheaded realist. But for some reason I am losing focus with this course because I have itchy feet and want to move on from a town that I no longer want and that no longer wants me.

The three years of uni abides by the three act structure we have been taught. Act One is the set-up and introduction to the characters, arena and plot, Act Two is the meat of the story where the decisions and major events play out a and the third year falls into the climatic Act Three where everything comes to a head. Let's just say I'm getting bored of Act Two and I want to just skip to the end so I can leave the cinema and hop the fastest train the hell outta of there. That said, I have no ill will toward the actual work on the course itself. It may be incredibly disorganised in general but it has its merits. This is about Bournemouth, the wretched shit hole that I have spent too many years festering in. This place is driving me crazy and the fatigue of living in such a small, same old shit, different day type of town is affecting the enjoyment of the course which admittedly diminished long ago.

Travelling in Oz taught me a few things - always consider your options carefully before you get behind a decision, never drive down a sandy mud hill and then try to turn around, never be afraid to ask for help, read A LOT, your closest friends are like gold dust (treasure them) and make sure to be honest with yourself even if you can' be honest with other people. Ha, maybe I should write the sequel lyrics to Baz Lurhman's Class of 99 Wear Sunscreen song. Jesus, I'm turning into a pretentious, piss ant student more and more everyday. Look at this blog. Read some of the crap I’ve written about. Blah, blah this and blah, blah that. I hate students. Hate them. they represent all that is naive and moronic and arrogant in this country. They party hard, pissing their precious pounds down the toilet and into their gullets in the form of wine, vodka and beer (before throwing it back up again) and then spend their days acting like their shit don’t stink and how much smarter, or better they are at talking about bullshit than anyone else. Now I am one of them, and I feel ashamed. I take a cold shower once a month to wash away the dirty feeling I get after a day at uni.

I guess this makes me a snob. I guess I should suck up my snooty observations and just do the bloody work which I am paying 3+ grand a year to do. I am more confident about how I am going to be a writer and avoid the pitfalls I have always feared I may trip over and disappear down. Australia gave me the direction I was hoping it would give me, it's just that it happened to point me in a direction I was not entirely expecting. This dodgy second act will continue to be reported for PDP purposes so that when this is all over this blog will show an evolution and development of my thoughts. From day one, entry one I was a cynical twat, when this course finishes by the final entry I will still be a cynical twat, only hopefully with a degree.