50th post!

Do I get a prize? Probably not. So I'm still moving, but spent last night and this morning desperately trying to finish off the script I was working on with my brother, Pete. He wrote the first draft, I was rewriting it and last week I told him it would be done by last Wednesday, a week and a half ago. Then he never heard from me again and thought I must have been completely reworking the whole thing. I wasn't, I've just been lazy. So I was up til 4am working on it last night (or this morning more accurately) which is crazy! And it still wasn't finished, so I got up at 9am (even more crazy!) to finish it. Which I have now done. Amidst calling various utility people about changing address.

Of the slate of six action films we're putting together I've written two and now co-written a third, so hopefully there's a good chance that something I've worked on will get made, or at least get into the hands of someone who can give me more work. Speaking of those first two scripts, the feedback so far has been great considering I wrote each one in two weeks. Yes, I am going to point that out every time I get chance until someone gives me a badge or a hat or something.

Before I move flats, I noticed some other bloggers taking photos of their workspaces so I thought I'd share mine, partly as a reminder for myself of the place I spent many a late night writing about dead men and ninjas:

And finally, here's a photo of the leaky ceiling, now with a hole in it, that is the reason I'm moving flats in the first place:

The reason I'm putting this here is that I find holes in ceilings quite scary. You can't tell from the photo but it's quite a big hole. There's a TV movie called Don't be Afraid of the Dark about these midget creatures who come out of cupboards and stuff to get people, and it kind of reminds me of that. If anyone wants to write a short film or story about things coming out of holes in ceilings I offer this picture as inspiration, because can't be bothered to write one myself.

As further evidence that we need to leave this building, I was interrupted at 10pm the other night by an aggressive banging on the door. This was no gentle rapping at my chamber door, this really sounded like someone trying to break in. So I get up and open the door cautiously, wishing I had one of those chain things and half expecting a masked killer to kick the door in and gut me with a machete. Instead it's the bloke from the flat upstairs holding a fish wrapped in newspaper. 'Do you want a fish?' he said. I was a bit confused so said yes, I did want a fish. He explained he had been fishing and had caught lots of fish that day so had some spare. I didn't thing things like that still happened - suddenly it felt like we were living in some kind of medieval farming community rather than a flat in Hove. I thanked him and took the fish which are now in my freezer as I'm not really sure what to do with them when they have heads and eyes still attached and stuff. Unfortunately I didn't have any dead things to offer him in return but he didn't seem to mind.

So it turned out sort of normal in the end, but it's not every day someone bangs on your door at 10pm and hands you a fish.