As I write this, I am less than 100 yards away from the sublime heights of Mont Blanc, Chamonix. The apartment I am sharing with my sister and two friends has floor to ceiling windows on one side, looking out at a snowy winterland that changes in unexpected ways throughout the day. I’ve been here since Monday, and adjusting to the Alpine way of life is becoming easier with every flurry of snow – which is very consistent at present. Chamonix is a bit like a surreal bubble of perfection; there are beautiful, well-dressed people (and many pooches), idyllic apartments and a rocky terrain peppered with fur trees and lift stations. I couldn’t have come to a more outlandish place – in comparison to gentle, subtle Somerset.
Why have I chosen to up sticks to this part of Europe? Well, first and foremost, I want to master skiing, which in equal measures scares and thrills me. I am not too good with heights, and the first time I got in a bubble up to Les Grands Montets in March, I have to admit that my stomach was doing more than just somersaults. I will be starting on the much more suitable incline of Le Tour baby slopes – as soon as I have forked out for the kit. The second reason (and more sensible option) is to develop a number of screenplay ideas that I have been intending on starting for some time. I have two feature ideas and a few shorts, including a mixture of comedy and drama.
A few of these ideas came to me after a rather over-indulgent weekend spent at the Cornwall Film Festival, where Pernickety was screened and short listed for an audience award. We didn’t get the award, but I made friends with the winning filmmakers, who I then stayed with a few weeks ago whilst networking and volunteering at the Encounters Short Film Festival in Bristol. I find festivals fascinating, and observing them from the inside, is so much more interesting. I think there is a story in the pretentiousness hierarchy and fakery within such a bizarre environment, it would be fun to play with a character based on a young volunteer set in this environment for the first time.
I feel quite at home in the hectic flow of such events, having partaken in volunteer work at Glastonbury, Cheltenham Screenwriters Festival and Encounters this year alone. Such a great way to meet people in the industry, suss out the gossip, go to screenings and seminars for free and attend the oh-so-important networking events. I will certainly continue to make myself known at more festivals next year… maybe expanding to the London Short Film Fest and some over-seas events. They are also the perfect ground for pimping films, so Pernickety has of course been distributed accordingly. Most impressively, I think I deserve brownie points for placing Pernickety in the hands of a script editor at Working Title and Dawn Sharpless at Dazzle Films.
I also placed a number of copies on the information desk at Encounters, so there is a chance that they may have made their way into a few important people’s hands… though I have no way of knowing unless they email me with feedback. I was lucky enough to read a draft of a new Julien Temple feature script earlier in the summer, and I recently sent him a letter thanking him for letting me read it, along with a copy of Pernickety.
I am beginning to run out of steam in the distribution department though, as it’s just me doing all the promotional stuff, it’s difficult to get excited about filling in info on Withoutabox and shelling out submission fee money when some of the festivals don’t even have the courtesy to let you know if your film hasn’t made the cut. Now I’m in France, it will be even more expensive to send things off, but I will persevere, as the film should have at least another six-month’s shelf life ahead of it. I am very excited about beginning my next script, though obviously I am already stalling my progress by writing this long blog. But hey, I’m a writer and it’s all about the double-edged sword of self-doubt and procrastination!
As for the long winter months ahead, I am so very excited about après ski, observing Chamonix’s characters and spending time with friends on the slopes, and writing of course. Just last night I witnessed a crazy scene that is begging to be used in a film.
Picture this: all my new friends smoke, and so as not to appear like a complete loner in the bar when they all went out for a fag, I reluctantly donned my coat and followed suit. There was already some kind of commotion going on outside, but things became pretty clear when we heard a man barking at a snarling dog just in front of the bar’s forecourt.
The man, obviously deranged, or drunk or both would not stop barking, circling the dog, provoking it, testing its authority. The owner of the dog pleaded with him to stop, but to no avail. The Frenchman now started shouting obscenities at the dog owner, his scraggly hair shaking violently around his bony face. Other people were now getting involved, trying to calm the Frenchman down, and ushering him away from the dog. The commotion upset not only the crowd that had congregated, but the other dogs in the area were all cowering away, accept for the one that the Frenchman was venting his anger at.
Eventually the Frenchman backed off and staggered off with his friend, still murmuring and flailing his arms around as he went. It was such a strange situation, and a visually arresting scene to witness. Obviously it was pretty horrific to see a man challenging a big snarling dog, but very cinematic non-the-less. I will try and write it into something, for sure.
Right, now I must get on with some real writing, fire up Final Draft for the first time since Pernickety, which was about four months ago, but first, I must eat the remains of a delicious celeriac soup that I made yesterday. Bon appetite!
