Taking a comic turn in pursuit of the write stuff

Let me share a little secret with you.

Many journalists on newspapers secretly fancy themselves as writers of fiction or non-fiction.

The fact that we are, in effect, paid to write makes many of us believe that this obviously proves there is an important book or TV series lurking within us that one day simply must be unleashed on the wider world.

I realised this fact once when I was interviewing an author who told me that he used to work on The Sun.

He said he had handed his notice in when the novel he had written in his spare time was snapped up by a publisher and he decided to devote all his time to writing more books.

When he told his colleagues about this they were all amazed that he had found time to even write a book alongside his “real” work with many also saying they couldn’t understand why he would want to waste his time “messing about” with books anyway.

But then, within the space of a few days, half-a-dozen people, including a couple who had loudly decried him, came up alongside and quietly offered their own manuscripts to pass on to his new-found publisher.

The Sun “Secret Writers Group” was clearly a thriving one.

Seriously funny comedies   

Well, I make no secret of the fact that I would one day love to see a book of mine on the shelves and the fact that a former PA of mine – the lovely Moira Young, author of award-winning Blood Red Road – has already done so merely whets my literary appetite even more.

But could I actually write a novel or do something for TV or radio?

Well, I’m not sure so on Saturday I took advantage (as I said I would in this blog many moons ago) of the fact that the City of Bath College was hosting a one-day course in how to write a TV sitcom to go and find out a bit more about the “write stuff”.

There were only a handful of us on the course but as one woman had travelled all the way up from Plymouth to be there it showed me how lucky we were to have such an unusual seminar on our doorstep.

Top tips - our tutor David Lassman

We were also very lucky to have an excellent tutor – David Lassman, a key player in the Bath Writers’ Group – who stoked all the writing fires within us as he talked about what made a good sitcom, how to develop ideas into making one and what we can learn from the successful shows that have already defined the genre.

All of us on the course came away, I think, feeling encouraged that this is something that we could possibly do and that is why I really admire the college for putting on these kind of courses as part of their excellent Love2Learn programme which give you a taste for something that could readily develop into a full-on craving.

Of course, I’m often reminded that just because everyone can write a book doesn’t mean they should and to the old adage “there’s a book in everyone” I always say the phrase “yes, but it’s probably a bad book”. However, I do think if I did get to the end of my mortal coil having not at least had a go at writing something that could be on the WH Smith book shelves rather than its paper stand then I will be disappointed. Wether it will be a comedy or not I'm not sure - after all how funny we are is like how good we are at driving or how talented we are in more 'intimate' circumstances we probably don't see it as others do! - but I know I will write someday and Saturday may well be the first step in the 'write' direction.  

  

So, thanks to Bath College and Mr Lassman I will now spend more time thinking about the writing game. And, yep, you read it here first.

Here comes the sun.....Zzzzzzzzz

At the risk of people shouting ‘baah-humbug’ at me can I be the first (?) to complain about the sun?

And no, I don’t mean the paper of that name but that ‘burning ball of gas’ that was much in evidence earlier this week.

Now I realise straight away that criticising the sun is a dangerous game – indeed it is somewhat blasphemous to many. I often think that it is virtually a criminal offence in the UK to say you don’t like The Beatles or Shakespeare and for many people not enjoying a full-on heat wave is considered equally unacceptable. Indeed, I can imagine pseudo-orange people tutting away as we speak . . .

Now don’t get me wrong, I love the theory of the sun. When you’re driving home from work in the pouring rain on a November evening, you dream of days such as we experienced this week but, just as you occasionally desire a cream cake and then feel sick five minutes after eating it, I often feel let down when it all really hots up.

Maybe it’s because I’m a pasty-faced Englishman who would need six months in the Caribbean to even go a tiny bit Caramac-coloured but I just don’t get other people’s obsession with wanting to be as baked as possible.

It is a bit like going into an Indian restaurant and hearing macho people say “I want the hottest thing on the menu”. I’m the kind of guy that just looks at them, shakes my head and asks for a Korma (left).

The main problem is that when it is really hot, I find I can’t bear to be inside but then I can’t bear to be outside either.

I’ve been lucky enough to have a number of nice exotic holidays abroad in the past and for me, the real luxury is to have my face covered in a book, my body covered in cream and preferably an umbrella covering me completely. As I sit there on my safe and secure perch, I look at men and women sizzling and just think: why, oh why?

Personally, if I was ever asked the question by Mother Nature, I would on your behalf (although I suspect you wouldn’t thank me) gladly exchange a pleasant, warm climate throughout the whole year for our crazy weather with its occasional heatwave which we saw at the weekend (and which apparently is coming back in burn-making spades in the summer).

However, as I’m a glass half-full type of person I admit I can see some advantages that the sun brings.

Firstly, it seems to be the only weather that allows you to be as lazy as you want at home because, frankly, no-one can be bothered to do anything and so they can’t even be bothered to moan at you for not lifting a sweaty finger either.

Secondly, and this is not a sexist point (honest), I really liked what Paul Merton said last week on Have I Got News For You that it seems that the women of Britain are ‘solar powered’ because when the sun comes out, they all look far more attractive. And to prove it’s not sexist, I think the same could be said of many men (although frankly some of those who happily take off their shirts at the first opportunity could do with some advice about that).

The sun makes the beautiful people (male and female) look even more beautiful and wandering round the streets of Bath on Tuesday looked like an open air audition for Britain’s Next Top Model.

So yes, the sun does have some advantages but on balance I think am one of those Brits who just don’t cope with the extremes very well.

I’m moaning on here about being too hot but fear not, I’m sure in December I’ll moan about being far too cold as well.

It’s called being British. And in my case pasty-faced British.