Adapting my novel to screen – updated.

Just read this article by Roland Kelts in the Japan Times about Jeff Gomez and I am reminded what a huge influence his story words years ago, have had on my approach to telling.

He changed my thinking and approach to story entirely, whilst supporting, encouraging and validating the purpose of this writer – one of many who listened in wonder in Perth, Western Australia.

I needed a reminder today, because I have (somewhat) lost my way and need a push to get back into writing.  I have spent many words on my novel and it seems such a shame to let it languish in discarded disc heaven…

Perth Words... exploring possibilities.

My novel started life way back  in 1986 as ‘Competing’ then became ‘Kathy’s Clown’ and finally ‘Toy Soldier’.

I’m still not sure what to call it… the story just won’t go away but I have had to adapt working ‘docs’ for each and it’s getting very confusing so I must settle on a name soon!

This 3 para Synopsis will give you an idea of the story and characters:

SYNOPSIS:  ‘Kathy’s Clown’

The Army Reserve is a volunteer group that consists of weekend soldiers.  Peter Watts-Brown is their Colonel.  He has made his hobby his career – his day job with the Department of Agriculture, pays the bills. He enjoys playing games – with the army, with money, with women.

His favorite opponent and total opposite at work and play is Colin Williams.  Colin is in line for promotion which Peter feels he deserves. He also wants Colin’s wife Kath.  Both have…

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In my African Childhood

Today, Rick shared a poem on Write Out Loud called ‘Old Time Religion’ and I was totally inspired.  His words took me straight back to growing up in what was then, Northern Rhodesia.

Mum with Quinten Quinebelle III or Quicksie for short, in the early 1960’s.

In my African childhood.

 

We lived next door to a ‘church’,

could hear their fervent chest-beating,

shouting at all times of the day and night.

So could our prize-winning show-dog.

 

A Beagle barking continuously

can be annoying… but not enough

to warrant throwing an axe

hitting and chopping off her leg.

 

Her Agricultural show career ended

although she enjoyed the breeding…

We moved away to safer neighbours,

our dog limping through her dreams.

 

 

Frances Macaulay Forde © 2019

 

#POEM:InMyAfricanChildhood  #FrancesMacaulayForde  #WriteOutLoud  #Poetry  #Beagles  #Neighbours  #Church

Congratulations Paul! Poem Accepted for Prole Issue 28 — Waringwords

It’s always a great feeling when an editor responds with news that a poem(s) you submitted, usually weeks, but sometimes months, earlier has been accepted. And when it’s a favourite publication like Prole, it’s even better. And when it’s your fourth appearance, it’s hard to put into words how brilliant it feels. It’s a welcome […]

via Poem Accepted for Prole Issue 28 — Waringwords

Renovations

This poem ‘Renovations’ was an homage to my old ‘home’, but doesn’t express just how happy I am with my old/new love.

Perth Words... exploring possibilities.

Reading Vinny’s blog  and his wonderful ‘Wind Chimes’ poem reminded me of a poem I wrote in 2002 when I found my life was suddenly turned upside down, down-under.

I had to pack up the house I’d lived in by myself for 28 years after divorce, while I explored the possibilities of returned love at the age of 52 and learnt to share my sacred space again.

It was not always easy but my reward was a love I didn’t know was possible.

Wiki Photo of Jacarandas.  I had planted one  to remind me of my Zambian home.

. 

house loud

full of colored voices

frequently gathered

while fancy-dressers

danced in yellow

.

purple walled

creative spaces

where words poured

like leaking taps

Bali knick-knacks

.

replaced by exercise

machines marching

across gym-lounge

to a new beat

sparse spare look

.

quiet everyman

wants resale

erasing all memories

of trees – too many

for…

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‘Monday Morning – 9AM’

Just received the OK to share a wonderful poem I found on my preferred poetry blog; Write Out Loud,  ruthlessly lampooning the Corporate World and it’s inherent characters.  I smiled, laughed and giggled all the way through my reading – I am visually stimulated and his visuals were hilarious! 

I’m sure, if you ever inhabited that high-rise enterprise you’ll enjoy it too,  so I’ve copied it below his ‘permission’.  

Hi Frances
Thanks very much for your kind and thoughtful comments re: ‘Monday Morning – 9AM’  I really appreciate you taking the time to comment.
Of course you can use it on your blog – maybe just put a reference on there to my website www.thecrowsofalbion.com so folk might head over and take a look/listen at more stuff 😃
I’ve left those days of meetings behind – thank god. took early retirement and never looked back. I certainly don’t miss any of the characters in this poem I can tell you 😉
Thanks once again – glad you liked it
Ian

Just in case you haven’t clicked over to Write Out Loud to read the poem, here it is:

Monday Morning – 9AM

He calls the meeting to order

The alligator with the human skin briefcase

Teeth like buzz-saw blades

She raises the first objection

The girl with butterfly wings

Muddy puddles for eyes

The maggot takes the minutes

Slowly chewing the page

Drizzling ink-blood on paper

Smudging ideas

 

A firefly drifts aimlessly

From subject to subject

Saying nothing

Words like gossamer cobwebs

And the hyena

Stares out of the window

And smiles

While playing a fountain pen

Round and round

His finger claws

 

Interrupted

By a slow spider

Who distributes

Croissants and coffee

To break up the tedium

A cat licks the cream pot

A dog chews an idea bone

A parrot with golden plumage

Mimics the boar who is speaking

In riddles and rhymes

 

The clock runs counter clockwise

Seconds stretch into minutes

Minutes to hours

Like clouds across a mountain

Slowly the objectives unwind

Leaving snapping dragons

And mewling little demons

Clicking and clacking

Digging up bones

Long buried and forgotten

 

When the gavel comes down

The corporate menagerie

Dust of their crisp suits

From a century of dust

Adjust their positions

Raise to their full height

Of not much or nothing at all

And leave through the door

Of shimmering dreams

And rose coloured glass

 

Come on down you pretenders

You hoary old men

You power dressed bitches

You meek being led

By faceless monstrosities

Sitting in caves

At the end of an oak paneled corridor.

This is the Company

Grinding up lives

In its mincing gears

 

The time and the date

Placed in the diary

Along with the doodles

And pertinent points

From a thousand

Monday morning meetings

Where caffeine and ambition

Pump screaming adrenaline

Into the veins of the smiling

Ruthless devourers of souls

 

Ian Whiteley © 2019

Don’t forget to check out his website too. 

 

#IanWhiteley  #thecrowsofalbion  #poem  #MondayMorning-9AM  #CorporateWorld  #WhiteCollar  #Lampooning

Footprints in the dust…

This poem ‘An Easter Tragedy’ deserves another reading.

Perth Words... exploring possibilities.

Today, I’m watching The State Memorial for Nelson Mandela.  The camera pans across all the international attendees as the representative of the A.N.C. reads out a list of those dignitaries.  As she reads ‘President Robert Mugabe’ a huge roar erupts and I am astounded!  Don’t they know how many of his own people he has slaughtered, starved, beaten to within an inch of their lives and stolen from – and continues to do so?

Here Mugabe sits in a now free and democratic South Africa where everyone has a vote.  I wonder how the people around him feel?  Surely the UK and USA PM and President will not shake his hand… I find his presence insulting and wonder if Mandela would have felt the same way.

There must be more of Africa in me than I thought, because I seem to have the memory of an elephant.  How can…

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Shattered Windows

Filmed in 1985 around Northbridge, inside the burnt-out Swan Brewery, at MidWestTV studios and a very different Perth Railway Station, was another video called: ‘Shattered Windows’ .

My daughter was 8 – thought being there was great watching Pete and I do our thing.

It was the 1st Music Video film-partners Peter A. and I did when we started SPHINX Productions back in 1985.  Totally scripted, directed and produced by yours truly, the video won Best Cinematography for Peter in the WA Young Filmmakers Awards at the Film & TV Institute in Fremantle.

The original song was written by a break-dancing duo who won the Talent Competition I ran at the Riverton & Kelmscott Hotels in 1983.  Wonder where they are now?

Apart from $1,000, their prize included this video clip made by Sphinx Productions, the little production company a young but very talented Peter and I set up in 1985.

#FTIYoungFilmakersAward   #ShatteredWindows  #SwanBrewery  #Northbridge  #PerthRailwayStn  #Mid-WesternTV  #MusicVideo  #SphinxProductions