Episode 190: NWA Day 2

Just came back from seeing The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas. Already knew the plot, so this time I was concentrating on other stuff like the soundtrack. That is pretty incredible, in case you're wondering, especially the first sequence when Bruno goes through the woods between his house and the concentration camp. It was just arpeggiated piano chords and strings, but it was wonderfully emotive stuff. New Word Alive has been great so far, although the single beds in the caravan are insanely narrow, while the quilts are still normal-sized, so I keep waking up to find that the quilt's slipped off. I didn't actually attend anything today other than the morning reading, evening celebration and one seminar I hadn't intended to go to but sort of drifted into with my friends. I was going to go to one on medical ethics, but didn't because I ended up at the beach with most of the other guys from my caravan. The weather in the afternoon was brilliant, completely nothing like back on campus, which is somewhat of an irony. Wish I'd brought my camera to the beach though, love taking shots of the water. I think I kind of miss being at the beach now. Anyone want to accompany me to East Coast Park when I get back to Singapore in a couple of months?

Episode 189: NWA Day 1

We're having a really late dinner now because we only started cooking after getting back from the evening celebration. I'm not involved in the cooking, unsurprisingly, hence am typing out this entry in my handphone. Managed to squeeze in a little bit of work for my CM1 portfolio before I left for Wales. Basically, me and any sort of work have this bizarre relationship whereby it only gets done when the pressure of time exceeds the pressure of perfectionism. So that point was temporarily reached in the hours leading up to my departure. So I dashed off a few hundred words for Assignment 3c. Would have done more, but I'm still not quite sure what constitutes a sufficiently reflective piece of writing, so I'm holding off on finishing anything else in the portfolio until I've managed to clear more urgent essays. Will need to be insanely productive for two straight weeks when I get back. I did briefly toy with the idea of taking along books for The Warwick Review essay, but decided to just pack Sir Gawain And The Green Knight instead. Managed to get through two Fitts (the Tolkien translation, not the original) on the way to Wales. The journey itself was very numbing for my bum, but the scenery was lovely. The weather, apparently, was also rather decent, this being Wales and all. We only encountered a slight drizzle along the way, and it's been clear skies ever since. Stuart Townend led worship this evening, and although I've mentioned to Shirley before that I didn't like his CD that she lent me, hearing him live is actually quite good. [I'm being a bit biased because the first song he led tonight was Brenton Brown's 'Hosanna (Praise Is Rising)'.] Haven't quite thought about what seminars I want to attend over the next couple of days. Guess I might just end up drifting along with people, at least for tomorrow.

Episode 188: Checking Out

Watching yet another episode of Doctor Who. Last night, I finally figured out who this Marc Warren is whom Lucy kept mentioning during our Kami Lounge sessions. I must say, not bad, not bad at all. Her mum totally should have stayed with him. Seeing Cybermen duke it out with Daleks is clearly more interesting than writing my radio play though. I've managed to rewrite Scene 1 of it though, bringing it up to around 400+ words, which is what I had in mind to begin with, since from setup to breakdown, I'm planning for five scenes at most. It even has a proper title now! Unfortunately, due to my procrastinating ways, I definitely won't be able to get it done before heading to Wales, although perhaps I could continue it on my handphone, the way I normally compose my poems. Alternatively, I could bulk it up into a single long scene, and round out the portfolio's word count with some performance poetry. I suppose it really depends on whether the rest of the scenes can capture the same level of emotional intensity? We shall see. I seem to procrastinate a lot when it comes to writing, for someone on a creative writing degree, I mean.

Episode 187: Follow Me On Twitter!

Slow progress on the radio play. May have to do a radical rethink of where it's going in order to get any progress. Still hope to have it done before I leave for Wales though. Or at least make significant headway. Compromise is a slippery slope, as you can see. Twitter is a little more addictive now that Vodafone supports mobile updates to UK users, although its equivalent of spam is quite annoying. May need to unsubscribe to updates for particular users soon. I wish more of my friends used Twitter, so that I could receive updates from people I actually know rather than know of. It is kind of unreal to be receiving Twitter updates from the likes of Gareth Emery and Leighton Meester. I've started packing my bag for Wales, mostly just clothes because stuff like toiletries can't go in until Monday. Have mixed feelings about going for New Word Alive. I'm sure it's going to be great, but once it's over, my nose is going to be put to the grind for a solid fortnight. Would have a lot more peace of mind if I could just get this radio play done, but so far, all I've turned out are 200+ words, of which only the first couple of lines are any good. Ah well. Sleep first.

Episode 186: Questionable Musical Tastes?

It should disturb me how I will listen to songs with inane lyrics as long as the beat is appealing. It doesn't though. Latest example: Thor Gudjonsson's 'The Wiggle Wiggle Song'. The lyrics are completely pointless, the singing isn't all that great, but the beat is trashily perfect and that's all that matters to me. Måns Zelmerlöw released his second album two days ago, and initially, I didn't think much of it, apart from the opening track, 'Hope & Glory'. Having had a chance to give the album a couple of spins though, including while I was travelling to and from London yesterday, I think it's a step forward, musically, edging the sound closer to say, M. Pokora's MP3. Unfortunately though, it also means the music is completely disposable and is unlikely to achieve any sort of widespread international success, given how the market is already saturated by the likes of Britney Spears, Lady Gaga, The Pussycat Dolls, etc. What is it with these Europeans and their cheesy music though? Gudjonsson's Icelandic, Zelmerlöw's Swedish. Oh well. Went up to Coventry with Bella to grab lunch and buy a backpack for Wales next week. Bought something for £29.99 on Shen Ting's recommendation. Shall watch a couple of episodes of The Bedford Diaries and then continue with my radio play...

Episode 185: There And Back Again

Am zooming along highways in the dark, listening to Chris Tomlin and rediscovering why he's my favourite Christian artiste. Good times. A lot of his appeal, I suspect, has to do with Ed Cash's production, which creates a very unified sound across his three most recent studio albums, effectively creating a musical triptych that is tailored for Christian radio success. Not criticising the music though, just pointing out there's a very good reason why it's so popular. Anyway, was in London with a couple of the other creative writers at the Poetry Cafe. We didn't actually write anything, right until just before we were going to leave, and then we did that exercise where you count backwards from 100 and just write whatever comes to mind. I might actually be able to edit bits of what I came up with into something for the final 4000-word portfolio. Or it could just end up as one of those fragments I publish on my other blog and then leave to gather dust. We wandered over to the Tate Modern after that. Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster's TH.2058, currently on exhibit in the Turbine Hall, was interesting, and at least made more sense than most modern art that I've seen. You could actually become part of the artwork, as David pointed out that the flyer shows people walking around the exhibit, as well as lying on the bunk beds and reading the books. We should totally have done that, I think. We ended the day at The Hole In The Wall in Waterloo, with trains rumbling over the ceiling. Like I was telling Jemma on Facebook, the next time we're in London, we should totally follow Nick's original suggestion of getting on the Tube and getting off at a random station! Could prove to be pretty interesting...

Episode 184: Playwright Blues

Progress on the work front has been slow, although it is still pretty early in the night, and I may get my writing act together yet. Have been surfing around looking for new music, but so far, only Frankmusik sounds interesting. The charity single from The Saturdays is pretty nice though, especially The Wideboys' remix. I'm suddenly very sleepy, which may or may not be a consequence of squinting at my laptop with my glasses off. My attention span is completely shot to hell, so I'm hoping that hopping down to London tomorrow to be around fellow creative writers will help to jumpstart my mental processes again. I really, really want to start on the radio play tonight, otherwise I know I'll just put it off until I get back from Wales, which is not ideal at all! I have a few basic ideas in my head at the moment, including a killer ending for the first scene, but I'm sort of hung up about getting the opening right, and I can't decide on an opening. Argh. I hate this part, the whole trying to get stuff right from the beginning. The problem is that I can't abide the concept of drafting, at least not in any substantial form. It's stupid, and I should really reconcile myself to the idea, but the fact is that most of my writing is done in fits and bursts without much editing, so whatever's in my head just gets batted around until it feels right, and then it gets typed out and pretty much stays that way. It explains why I require a long time to get started on any written work, but once I'm on a roll, it usually doesn't take too long for the final product to emerge. I need someone to lock me up in a room with no Internet connection, just pen and paper. Drastic measures may be called for after I get back from Wales. Any volunteers to lock me up and throw away the key? Metaphorically or literally as you please...

Episode 183: I Need The Pressure Of A Deadline

The title says it all. It was so cold in the afternoon, I ended up crawling back into bed with Women Editing Modernism, and then I fell asleep before I got to the end of the first chapter. Not because it was boring, but with the actual deadline for this still a month away, it was very hard to be self-motivated about reading. I swear that I produce my best work these days under the pressure of a ticking clock, and while I could get away with it previously, there are too many things due within days of each other for me to try this. Technically, only the portfolio for Peter Blegvad and the essay for Michael Hulse are due after this break on Monday. The essay for Sarah Poynting and the portfolio for Mary Sage are due later the same week, on Friday. The essay for Adam is for the following Monday, while the essay for Jim is a distant thing, as well as the final essay and portfolio for EN124. Add miscellaneous short French essays, and that's all the work I've got to cover. Oh, and actually study for the EN121 examination at some point. Sigh. This would be less taxing if I had mastered the art of doing a little work each day, instead of a sleepless night every so often.

Episode 182: I Should Be Reading/Writing (But I'm Not)

I'm watching a Doctor Who special before getting down to work for tonight. It's mostly going to be reading for the essay I've got to do for The Warwick Review. I'm not quite certain what I'm going to be writing about yet, but it'll be something to do with the relation between women editors of literary magazines and modernism, as I managed to find a copy of Jayne Marek's Women Editing Modernism in the Library. Will need to read good-sized chunks of that before I can start writing anything, but I am fairly certain this will be the piece of work I'm going to finish off by the end of this week. Ideally, of course, I would like to at least get started on the EN122 essay before leaving for New Word Alive, perhaps even finish it? It all depends on how disciplined I am, which for the past week, has been practically not at all. Although I did manage to finish the review this morning at 2 am, and was quite pleased with myself for that! Randomly, in the middle of the afternoon, I tidied up my table a little, which escalated into a complete reorganisation of my drawers and tabletop. I messed up the latter a bit to begin with, so that I could do a before and after snapshot for my CM1 portfolio. Goodness. It's really Project Work all over again, this wholesale pretence. Still, I am very pleased with how neat my table looks, for now anyway.

Episode 181: Short People

Got together with Hui Lin, Sarah and Shen Ting to practise the song. Ended up harmonising random songs in the practice room. Worked rather well, especially given the acoustics of an enclosed space. We went back to Hui Lin's place in Tocil to make dinner, which again proves my theory that I eat far better when I'm eating at other people's places. Joanna came over too, and as is usual for Singaporeans, we talked all through dinner and for an hour or so after it. The back door to my hall of residence has had its lock changed, and I have no idea why. I've been spending a fair bit of time since I got back to my room writing my brief review of The Reality Street Book Of Sonnets. I've decided that I like individual poets within the anthology, but as a whole, it doesn't work for me because I'm unconvinced that it's more than 'just another modern sonnet anthology' that 'delves more thoroughly than ever before into the myriad ways poets have stretched, deconstructed and re-composed the venerable form' of the sonnet. So I've cheekily hidden three bastardised sonnets within my review, one each of Petrarchan, Shakespearean and curtal. The last is a form invented by Gerard Manley Hopkins, who only wrote three documented examples of it, one being 'Pied Beauty', which Mr Purvis once showed my class in JC. A curtal sonnet, according to Hopkins, is three-quarters of a Petrarchan sonnet. I'm hoping that my review still reads sensibly as prose, so I'll probably show it to a few people first before sending it off to Michael Hulse.