Wipe Out.

It’s been a month to the day since I updated the blog. A lot has happened since I last tried to capture my thoughts.

First and foremost, just to get this on front street…I’ve been stamped, man. Officially marked and recognised as ‘clinically depressed.’

So, yeah…there’s that…

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It’s Not Much To Ask For, Is It?

 

Take solace in the small victories, the tiny accomplishments. Who knows what they could all add up to.

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It’s In The Blood.

I’m sad to say it, and ashamed to admit it, but there has been virtually no progress with Temporary in the time since my last blog post, Pivot – though, if you’re interested, I have been providing minor updates via my podcast, Sweet Story, Bro.

I’m acutely aware that it’s been almost a month of inaction, but it was while providing a brief update to Temporary during the intro for a future episode of my podcast that I realised I had a topic to share that I haven’t blogged about yet, and considering that Write Steve Write is the HQ for all major updates for my writing, Temporary, and, only because I love you (yeah, you, gorgeous), some travel writing, I wanted to provide a further update on what’s going on and why I have yet to shift it into gear the way I’ve been meaning to.

Hell, sticking to that analogy, I’m still obsessively checking mirrors. I haven’t even shifted into first.

So why?

I’ve not been myself recently.

You just know when something isn’t right? When something feels inhereably…wrong. Yeah, that.

Fun, right?

A few weeks ago I felt weak. Incredibly weak. Like, ‘blacking out at BJJ’ weak. ‘Couldn’t do the warm up’ weak. Something was up. So, I’ve been trying to figure out what, exactly, caused me to feel so fatigued. So drained.

It’s because of this that the past few weeks have revolved around beautiful (grey), warm (raining), British Summer days as I traipse to the Doctor’s for scans, prodding, and (multiple) blood tests.

It’s a good thing I don’t mind needles and like post-jab lollipops.

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It’s About Time (And Space)

You know what’s not fun? Breaking down on the ride home after picking up your, supposedly, fixed car from the garage. This isn’t the first time this year that I’ve had issues with my car failing horribly on me, but at least the front suspension didn’t decide to fall apart around me this time.

This time? The replaced clutch, costing me a few hundred £’s because, y’know, cars are expensive and I’m a struggling writer, hadn’t been reassembled properly, leading me to lose any sort of acceleration of the car.

Thankfully I was able to get to the side of the road (which, in another stroke of relative luck, was only down the street from the flat), hit the hazards, and call for help whilst the gear box oil of my faithful Fiesta spilled onto the ground, pooling in a slick blackness.

I don’t normally do this, but I want to give a major shout out to my girlfriend, Thea, for being absolutely amazing during the whole fracas. She came back around after I got through to her on the phone, went back to find my lost friends, who were coming over for the day, and then waited with us until the AA arrived. She then went solo with the car back to the garage, who promptly prioritised my car, and didn’t complain once about how it had impeded her day off, knowing what my amigos and I had planned for the day.

She is an absolute angel.

Hey, do you know what is fun? Spending the day revelling in uninhibited mutual geekiness with a few fellow Whovians in preparation for the Season 9 premiere.

Having had this organised for months (since the SDCC announcement) we used the chance to spend the entire day rewatching old episodes as we counted down to 7:40PM and the The Magician’s Apprentice.

So what did three Whovians decide to watch; what episodes resonated with us, and why?

L-R: Sean, Johnny Mac, Steve

Click the jump, and find out…I promise you, it’s bigger on the inside.

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A Year And Change.

It’s hard to believe that just over a year ago, last August, to be precise, Nick and I were over in Indianapolis (hit the jump to scope the first blog on my Indy Adventure!), supporting my short film, First Date.

Flights, hotels, overbearing custom control (oh, the memories…), sitting on panels, fighting, food (so much food!) and a cavalcade of films and board games all blended together to make a hopeful trip a memorable one. Not only that, it made it an important one.

It was a trip that forced me to reflect on who I am, and what I want. It had me reassessing a number of elements in my life.

It was the first time that I had been a part of a festival to any degree; it was also the first time I was able to support a piece of art that I had helmed, with the help of many artistic friends throwing in to make sure it came to life. The panels were a lot of fun to do, and I got to meet and interact with a bunch of interesting filmmakers. I’ll also be the first to put my hands up and admit two sad truths:

  1. I didn’t belong on those panels, given the wealth of experience that I was flanked by.
  2. First Date didn’t make any sort of indelible impact, and has failed to segue into anything else since it was filmed, oh so long ago.

And that is a particularly sad, and harsh truth for me. I put a lot of myself into First Date; time, effort, money, and faith (blind, blind faith), but unfortunately all it kind of amounted to was experience.

I relished being on a set, and having actors come in and bring to life characters I had written, speak words I had crafted, was a special feeling, one I will hopefully experience again some day – but ultimately it was all an experiment that can be chalked up to experience.

This trip opened my eyes, however, to a different path that interested me. A total refocus on what I wanted to creatively explore; a new world that I wanted to be a part of.

Writing.

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Feedback Monster; A Glimmer of Hope.

I’ve been getting dribs and drabs of feedback from the beta readers who currently have a copy of my manuscript, Temporary. Some of it has been delivered in a cordial, friendly, manner, other parts were provided in a very straight forward, direct, way.

Sure, a lot of it (the majority, in truth) have felt like numerous sucker punches to the gut; or, to make it more relatable to what I know: a choke finally being sinked in under my throat, after having been fought off so valiantly for so long.

Its had me feeling like this, captured so perfectly by my man, The Doctor:

Crucially though, whether the beta readers were providing positives or negatives all of it has been given constructively.

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