Smile or Die

The answer to the question that I set myself is yes, this week at least.  I'm writing for a living.  I got my first commission to write something for a magazine and it pays a weeks wage.  Of course I was happy (its what I've been working towards after all) but I've noticed some strange things about myself as a result of it.  The most significant is a kind of superstitious paranoia.  I thought about naming the magazine on here but then I thought that if I did and the feature ended up getting killed, I'd end up looking really stupid and no one wants that right?   Which means that I've somehow got to the point of thinking what I write here in the blog would have some influence over future events, which is of course plainly ridiculous. I've been reading about a similar sort of thing recently in a book called Smile or Die by Barbara Ehrenreich.  The tagline to the book is 'How Positive Thinking Fooled America & The World'.

As someone who is naturally cynical, I was drawn to it.  Someone suggested I read this book called 'The Secret'.  You might have heard of it.  Its a compilation of various theories of positive thinking from what you might call self help books.  One of the major theories they put forward is 'the law of attraction' which suggests

'that you can have anything you want in life by focusing your mind on it.  The universe exists to do your bidding if only you can learn to harness the power of your desires.  Visualize what you want and it will be attracted to you.'

as Ehrenreich herself summarises it.  The obvious answer to this is that there are an awful lot of people in the world who, for example, probably visualize having access to clean drinking water.  The reason why they don't have it, according to the law of attraction, is that they just don't want it enough.  Rhonda Byrne, the author of 'The Secret' stated that disasters like tsunamis can only happen to people 'who are on the same frequency as the event'.  In other words, they brought it on themselves.  You're probably getting what I think about 'the law of attraction' and 'The Secret' by now.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a positive thinker - I'm definitely the glass half full bloke.  I think like that because I have travelled.  I've seen beggars in India with grotesquely out of proportion limbs through elephantiasis.  In the same country I saw a yellowed corpse surrounded by flies dumped by a river, probably there (I was told) because the family couldn't afford a proper burial. Maybe it was more sinister.  I was told not to go the police in case they tried to pin it on me and extort money.  So I know that I'm lucky by comparison.  Food in the fridge, roof over my head - life is pretty good.

But to get back to the (frankly bizarre now I come to think of it) point, I've had to write the blog this week to convince myself that what I write here does not have an influence over the events of the universe.  Actually last week's blog proves it.  Kimberley Walsh has not been in touch.

Something Kinda Ooh

I've just woken up from a dream where I was having a sneaky kiss with Kimberley Walsh.  Pretty nice dream you might think.  The only problem was that Cheryl Cole and Nicola Roberts knew my fiance and I was terrified they were going to grass.  Guess it was guilt that woke me up.  Any Freudian analysts out there want to offer their thoughts?

Now I'm wondering why it was Kimberley I was fantasising about.  I always thought it would be Cole, despite those bloody awful L'Oreal ads.  Now I come to think about it Cheryl saying 'Weak? Limp? Lifeless?' is a bit too close to the idea of a fantasy going awfully wrong for my liking.  Imagine actually getting the Geordie sexpot to the point where she's up for it and having those words ringing round your cranium.  Not exactly going to fill you with confidence is it? 

But Kimberley, why her?  I think it's because Cole is just too damn showbiz these days.  She's thrown her lot in with Cowell and pretty much elbowed Posh out of regular appearances in the red tops.  It's probably not long before America will fall at her feet, if they can understand her accent.  Kimberley seems a bit more relaxed, not so fame hungry and most important of all, she's got the kind of figure that suggests she doesn't have an eating disorder: she's got hips.  And lips.  Yum.  Coyle's too bony and lets face it, if Jesse Metcalfe's not handsome enough for her, my fizzog ain't going to cut it.  Harding's going to outdrink you and be funnier than you in the pub - no bloke wants that.  And Nicola, well I'm not going to say the thing that everyone else says about her.  I've never been out with a Ginge but I've definitely fancied a few.  Its her accent that does my head in but that's probably down to the fact that I'm mentally scarred by working with the Art Director at Live magazine.

So: lovely Kimberley.  I was going to write something about Valentine's Day this week but we've all played the 'Who Do We Fancy Most out of Girls Aloud' game haven't we (or if you're a girl, 'Which One Would You Have as a Mate?' - its usually Harding)?  I've got a good story about Valentine's which involves me thinking it was alright to meet a female friend of mine on the day as my girlfriend had given me the impression she thought it was all a load of Hallmark rubbish.  Oh how wrong I was.  Boy I learned a lesson that day.  But I'll save that for another time.

ibollocks

So far I've resisted the lure of the iPhone, even with all those sexy apps.  It would just be one more screen that I would be required to look at in the course of a day.  If one good thing has come out of the requirement for modern day workers to perform their daily tasks at computer terminals, it might be, if they're anything like me, that they watch less TV.  Sometimes I just can't face the goggle box after a day in front of several other screens. Its BBC Breakfast for me while I'm spooning porridge or eggs down my gullet, then a monitor for 8 or so hours at work if I'm freelancing for someone.  Then it's the laptop when I get home for a bit to deal with all the emails I swerved during the day, for Facebook and Twitter, for this blog and others.  Depending who is online, it might also be time for a Skype or MSN.   Then there's always the lure of 'Enders or the 9pm movie on Film4 and Family Guy is always hard to resist, right?  Even in the pub I might find myself looking into someone's photos on their phone or a video of them goofing about.  If it's not on screen, does it even exist anymore?

So the release of the iPad is just another gadget that will add to my paranoia about the amount of time I spend looking at a screen.  Sure I want one; if the success of the Pod and the Phone are anything to go by it seems inevitable that in a couple of years you'll find me on a train running my finger over the screen of one more tenderly that I would a new lover.  Damn them if the bods at Apple haven't found another way to eat into some of the rare non-screen time I had left.  Shitty weather makes me happy as it gives me an excuse to forsake my bike and get on the train, which means I can read.  Old fashioned paper with words printed on it: a book, a newspaper, something tangible in my hands.  Even reading a restaurant menu these days provides me with a thrill, albeit relatively minor. How long before I'm tapping on the table to order and the job queues are full of ex-waiters?

And in other news, the answer to the question this blog poses recently was yes - I ended up writing for Shortlist.  Now I'm off to get on the laptop to find out how long it is before they release the iPad in this country...

He Said, She Said

One thing I have never done on this blog is big up another writer that I like so it's about time I addressed that.  If you've never read The He Said She Said Review before you should if only because people, it's January.  The cold breeze of winter is blowing up your trouser leg and you're considering long johns even though you previously thought they were for old people and the very fact that you're considering wearing them has got you worrying that you're middle aged already and you haven't even done anything with your life yet.  That combined with the lack of light in the day and not being able to go out because you're skint after Christmas and because its buggering freezing (did I mention the weather?) is getting you down.  You need a laugh.  Therefore you need to read Chris and Emily's gig reviews.

They shouldn't be funny.  Basically the two of them seem to get pissed, muck about, not really know what to say to the bands and occasionally have a fight.  We've all done that and usually when we relate that sort of thing to our friends, they do a sort of fake guffaw or maybe a nose-blow of a laugh and pretend like its amusing in a supportive kind of way.  Realising your hilarious story probably only seemed hilarious because you were inebriated, you change the subject and move on.  So I don't know why even though most of their posts are pretty similar, I still want to go back and read each new one.  I think its a bit like watching the Royle family - I'm laughing because its holding up a mirror to what is familiar.  Just like I've sat around a telly with my family and, if I 'd thought about it later, it would have made me smile, so hesaidshesaid feels like I've done that or I've seen people doing that and plain and simple, human behaviour can be very funny.  Treat yourself and hit the link.

So This is Christmas...

...and what have you done?

2009 was definitely a year of changes for me and if you'd asked me this time last year if I'd have settled for that it would have been a big, fat, definite YES.  I needed a change.  It feels good to keep moving; if things stay the same too much I get bored.  Most significantly, it was the year that I moved in with my girlfriend after getting some psychotherapy to help me deal with the impulse to bolt.  Not funny at the time, but funny to think of it now.  Happily, co-habiting has worked out like a dream. It's like breathing - no effort and it keeps me alive.  Although I was South London and proud for ten years I have found out that West is best, at least for now.  I'm a terrible one for believing that the assumptions I make about a place or a person are true but I'm trying to change that.  There are probably as many twats in Notting Hill as there are any other part of town, its just that they drive more expensive cars and drink more cocktails.  I've even started drinking them. I know £8 is a lot for a drink, but then I think £3.50 is a lot for a pint of Guinness.  I love both, its just that cocktails work faster on me, are more interesting to drink due to my rare ingestion of them and they don't make me fart as much.  You can't beat a Chocolate Flip from the Electric, I'm telling you. 

I'm coming off the back of 3 days of pre-Christmas boozing in the name of catching up with friends before we all leg it for Christmas.  A Thursday night in a Maida Vale pub complete with a big fire, the smell of mulled wine and big fat flakes whirling around outside was contrasted sharply by a curry and a Friday night in an Islington gay bar.  The set was completed yesterday with a panto, Thai food, good friends, reflection on what has passed in the last 12 months and thoughts about the one ahead.  It's that time of year, right?  I flicked back through my emails and it became obvious that it's time for some thanks.  As usual I never got round to sending Christmas cards and it probably would have been a whole lot more professional to do so, therefore I hope that turning over the blog to being grateful will do.

Although there are countless people that didn't reply to enquiries or pitches (and I now know, that's just how it is), there are numerous people that have given me advice and encouragement.  You are; Emma Powell at Grifco, Matt Hill, Sarah Graham at the Mail, Struan, Rosie and Ellie at Salad Club, Ky at Musio for letting me write for her, Ed and Alex at Wideworld for publishing me, Eva Gizowska, Will Gray, Katy Salter, Jane Graham,Vicky Frost, Rosie Swash, Carla Bevan at Marie Claire online (apologies for fucking up the opportunity Carla), Rosalind Ryan for showing me where I went wrong, Paul Dunn at ES, Liz for helping with the book, Amanda Astill for honest words about my strengths and weaknesses, Jenny for teaching me how to write 'real life' stories, Craig at NFT for being so supportive, Dan Frost at SLP, Nicola at the Observer and Sophie at the Indy for replying .  I'd also like to thank Sian, Jamie, Sharon, Ali, Liz and John for the freelance work this year.  If I've forgotten you, then sorry and thanks!

Enjoy your time off and I'll be back in touch in the New Year.

Landlord Joys and Progress Update

The realisation that this blog is not really addressing the question it asks made me finally sit down and think about it in between trying to make some money to pay for Christmas and finding a tenant for my flat.  Both were stressing me out.  It's back to picture research for the time being (at Look magazine) to fund both the present hoard and suddenly having to pay for a mortgage on a place I don't live in. Several years ago I didn't have any sympathy for people like me as home ownership seemed so out of reach.  Little did I know that it would seem even more insurmountable now and thank God I scrimped for two years to make the deposit back in 2006. So: can I write for a living?

Not yet, not by a long chalk.  My contributions to a website are earning me a little bit of money but apparently they're not paying other contributors so I have to keep schtum about who they are.  There's also a good story idea that I've got, complete with good case studies (curious commissioning editors, get in touch now) but I'm finding it hard to make the time to pitch it to people.  Is there a difference between an excuse and a reason?  My reason (ahem) tonight is that I spent 3 hours missing trains and cursing a prospective tenant that never showed.  Karma will do for you, French girl who works at Chelsea FC.  Never mind that your accent felt like silk on my eardrum, only being a gentleman stopped me from venting my frustration when your phone went straight to voicemail as I called to find out where the bloody hell you were.

To get back to the point, I have to take some positives from what has happened so far this year.  Though it needs a lot of work, the first draft of a novel is completed and there have been bylines both online and in print, which is a foundation to build on.  The next quandry will be about turning down freelance picture research work as the redundancy cash has all but run out.  I've learnt a lot from working with people at good titles like Marie Claire, the South London Press and Look magazine but I can't help thinking that I could have done things differently (and better).  That you have to make mistakes in order to learn is some solace.  I'm doing the thing that I always wanted to do but never got around to and when I'm doing it, I find it exciting, which is pretty much all I ever wanted out of a job.  Now all I have to do is get paid for it.

South London MC Skandal

Collecting plaudits almost as fast as he can rhyme, 25 year old Skandal, from New Cross, is one to watch.  Airplay on both Choice and 1Extra has now led to a forthcoming mixtape called   'Hunger Pains' with DJ MK, host of Kiss FM's Hip Hop Show and regular Roots Manuva collaborator.  After twenty minutes we've talked about everything from roast dinners to political activism but he starts off by giving South London Press some props.  'It's the only paper that I will pick up because I want to know what's going on in my area.'  Skandal is South London through and through.  A Millwall fan since he was a boy, he speaks fondly about both the Old and New Den, the Pie n Mash shop in Lewisham and also about an early influence.

'Blak Twang man!  He's from Deptford and he really flew the flag for us.  Rodney P from London Posse early on too.  But when I first got into hip hop it was all about Wu Tang and De La Soul.' In terms of commercial success, the UK hasn't produced a rapper that's achieved the success of Eminem or Jay-Z but Skandal sees a positive future.

 'I think we are going to see that change in the next 5 to 10 years because the majors have now started realising that we can produce talent like Chipmunk, Tinchy and Dizzee.  They've had great success in this country.  UK artists are being embraced over there.  MIA is doing quite well, Jay Shawn, who's gone over there and done his thing so I think once the majors get behind us then the success is going to come.'

Skandal's style can sound very in your face and he's particularly virulent on the track 72 Bars (which kicks, incidentally) but he denies that the aggression in the music translates to the streets. 'I do believe music influences the youth, but not only music - that's a cop-out. We need to look closer to home.  There's a whole lot more that's affecting the streets and I would put the government, schools and parenting way above the music.' 72 Bars' is boast rap, the hip-hop tradition of putting down your peers to prove your rhyming prowess, which he sees as essentially innocuous. 'Its almost down to a playground mentality isn't it?  I'm better than you, my Dads better than your Dad.  Its a way of me holding on to my childhood and being as immature as I can for as long as possible!' he says, laughing.

Being down to earth is very much one of Skandal's qualities.  One of his videos shows him rapping on the toilet ('I was with my mates and it was just a stupid idea I had...') and he reckons that his ability to remember thousands of words for his live performances is just a case of honing his craft like any other occupation. 'Over the years I've got better at remembering my lyrics to the point where now I've finished a rhyme, its in my head.  It's like any skill, it’s like being an electrician or a plumber, its not something that comes to you overnight.  You have the ability to improve like any other man.  It'll take 3, 4 or 5 years to become competent as an electrician and its the same with the music.'  Certainly more than competent, watch out for him. 

See http://www.myspace.com/skumbagskandal 'Hunger Pains' is available on www.ukrecordshop.com, www.suspect-packages.com and from Itunes from 23rd November.