Well, well, well. Talk about a seismic shift!
If you've been following my contribution to the indie-publishing debate and my thoughts on the brave new world of the ebook and what it means for writers, that debate took a quantum leap with the news yesterday that JK Rowling has chosen to go indie and will be self-publishing her franchise as interactive ebooks through her own website/channel.
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Today is Bloomsday. The day when James Joyce fans insist on re-reading an unreadable book, eating fried kidney for breakfast and walking around Dublin in Edwardian costumes following the steps of literature's most unlikely hero, Leopold Bloom.
I don't do most of those myself, but it's not out of a lack of desire. I do pick the book off my shelf and read it again, and maybe watch one of the dramatisations, and always find myself saying 'next year in Dublin'. I do this because it's the most important book in my life...
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And so to the third installment of my '11 before 11.11.2011' indie publishing venture.
The Very Thought of You first came to public attention in the Minerva anthology New Writing 3, edited by Andrew Motion and Candace Rodd. Back then it was called Eyes Averted and was a taut 2,500 word literary short about a boy who falls in love with an old man’s dead wife.
Now it's a timeslip ghost story novella and it's out on Amazon and Smashwords.
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And so to the next installment of my utterly crazy '11 before 11.11.2011' indie publishing venture.
Following the launch of The Girl With the Bomb Inside last month, this month sees the release of Train Can't Bring Me Home
I'm particularly thrilled to publish this as it's been a labour of love for the last 18 years: a postmodern campus novel that explores the limits of love, literature and language in a dizzying, intellectual, comic, erotic clash of literary styles. It's experimental but, I hope, a lot of fun.
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In case you haven't noticed, there's a revolution taking place. No, I'm not talking about Egypt or Libya, I'm talking about publishing. Over a year ago, a meteor hit the publishing world in the shape of the Amazon Kindle.
What it means is that writers no longer have to get on their knees every day and pray for a publishing deal. What it means is there are no more gatekeepers guarding entry to the rarified VIP lounge of literature.
What it means is I've just published my first book.
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I know, I know. I've been pretty quiet this last year. Hardly a blog to my name and my hits have plummeted (I'm still amazed so many of you keep coming back to look, if I'm honest).
But there's a reason. And the reason is that, rather than writing about screenwriting, I thought I'd actually do some. And last week something very special happened.
Yes, fifteen years of hard, largely unpaid work finally came to fruition, and my first feature film, BAD BLOOD, went into production...
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The cries go out every week in the filmmaking community: everything is being dumbed down, there's no space for complexity any more, films aren't as demanding as they used to be, we're all going to hell in a flatpack-assembled handcart. It would be a matter for grave concern if it wasn't total bollocks.
Last night I went to see Inception at my local multiplex...
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It was only a matter of time before disgraced 'educational guru' Yolande Beckles hit the headlines yet again for her murky financial dealings. Yes, four years after she disappeared from Britain, the Independent on Sunday have tracked her down to Hollywood, where she's up to the same old tricks. Why should this bother me? Well, me and Yolande go back a long way.
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In the romcom everyone loves to hate, Notting Hill
If they turned that montage into a move all of its own, its name would be (500) Days of Summer
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