Once again I've been impressed by what someone else has found... and then stolen it.
Write down twelve of your own characters and then answer the questions - NO LOOKING AT THE QUESTIONS BEFORE ANSWERING!! GOT IT? GOOD!
1- Jack Redgrave
50's P.I, narrator of 'Wild Is The Wind' (which just so happens to be available to read on this blog!)
2- Lady Katherine Ferrers
Heroine of my play 'Stand+Deliver!', a noblewomen who turns to a life of crime. (That's a comedy for me)
3- Charles Bennett
Main character of my play 'Berlin', a young and naive man working for MI5.
4- Roger Waters
Drug addled and psychotic detective from my play 'Within'.
5- Bethany Allen
Femme fatale from 'Wild is the Wind'.
6- Matthew Bellamy
Double crossing CIA from 'Berlin'
7- Thomas Ferrers
Kate's drip of a husband from 'Stand+Deliver!'
8- Samuel Coleridge
Charming con man from 'Within'
9- Gordon Magnus
Veteran MI5 agent and expert chess player from 'Berlin'
10- Satan
Old Lucifer himself from my attempt at radio writing 'In My Dark Life'
11- Russell Faraday
Head of a West End gang from 'Wild is the Wind'
12- James Barker
Scriptwriter and selfish git from an untitled play
#1. Who would make a better college prof.? 6 (Matthew Bellamy) or 11 (Russell Faraday)?
Well, I'd say Bellamy most likely though I think he'd be nervous about speaking before people. Russell just wouldn't see the benefit in education.
#2. Do you think 2 ( Lady Katherine Ferrers) is hot?
Well, actually I've seen her. It' the only character on the list (apart from her husband... and possibly Satan) who was a real life person and there is a painting of her I've seen several times. But as I wrote I imagined her as looking like Diana Rigg circa 1969. So yes indeed- she is hot.
#3. 12 (James Barker) sends 8 (Samuel Coleridge) out on a mission. What is it? Does it succeed?
I don't think James would get involved with any real, important missions. He'd probably ask Coleridge very nicely to get him a cup of tea. Coleridge would probably smile, take James' money and run.
#4. What is or would be 9’s (Gordon Magnus) favorite book?
The complete works of Shakespeare. Magnus has an obsession with the Bard.
#5. Would it make more sense for 2 (Lady Katherine Ferrers) to swear fealty to 6 (Matthew Bellamy), or the other way around?
That's interesting... if it were Kate when she becomes a criminal, she'd make Bellamy swear to her. If before it'd be more likely she'd swear to him, but I think that if the price was right Bellamy would swear to anyone.
#6. For some reason, 5 (Bethany Allen) is looking for a roommate. Should (s)he share a studio apartment with 9 (Gordon Magnus) or with 10 (Satan)?
I must admit that I'm greatly amused by the idea of having the Lord of the Flies for a room mate. Actually Beth probably would move in with Satan and sell her soul to further her career.
#7. 2 (Lady Kathering Ferrers), 7 (Thomas Ferrers), and 12 (James Barker) have dinner together. Where do they go, and what do they discuss?
James would go round to the Ferrers country house (as the Ferrers are married), but it'd be a terribly boring evening. James would be shy, Thomas would be dull and Kate would be dreaming of being somewhere.
#8. 3 (Charles Bennett) challenges 10 (Satan) to a duel. What happens?
For a start only God or Jesus could beat Satan in a duel. Charles would never dream of challenging anyone to a duel!
#9. If 1 (Jack Redgrave) stole 8’s (Samuel Coleridge) most precious possession, how would she/he get it back?
Ooooo that would be a meeting... cocky Jack versus manipulative Coleridge. Coleridge would probably got to Jack asking for help with something, and knock him out while he's not looking.
#10. Suggest a title for a story in which 7 (Thomas) and 12 (James Barker) both attain what they most desire.
'A Quiet Life By Way Of Winning An Oscar'
#11. What kind of plot device would you use if you wanted 4 (Roger Waters) and 1 (Jack Redgrave) to work together?
Well, as Jack used to be a policeman and Waters is one, Waters probably would the antagonist.
#12. If 7 (Thomas Ferrers) visited you for the weekend, how would you get along?
It'd be bloody boring. He'd just sit quietly not waning anything.
#13. If you could command 3 (Charles Bennett) to perform any one task or service for you, what would it be?
Probably spying on people... well he is a spy!
#14. Does anyone on your friends list write or draw 11 (Russell Faraday)?
No...
#15. If 2 (Lady Katherine Ferrers) had to choose sides between 4 (Roger Waters) and 5 (Bethany Allen), which would it be?
I think she'd choose Beth because she leads her own life.
#16. What might 10 (Satan) shout while charging into battle?
A sound that kills people.
#17. If you chose a song to represent 8 (Samuel Coleridge), which song would you choose?
'I Want It All'- Queen
#18. 1 (Jack Redgrave), 6 (Matthew Bellamy), and 12 (James Barker) are having dim sum at a Chinese restaurant. There is only one scallion pancake left, and they all reach for it at the same time. Who gets to eat it?
Jack would only let somebody else eat the last pancake if he got something in return. Bellamy would probably steal it when no one was looking.
#19. What might be a good pick-up line for 2 (Lady Katherine Ferrers) to use on 10 (Satan)?
Quite how one would chat up the Prince of Darkness I don't know.
#20. What would 5 (Bethany Allen) most likely be arrested for?
Murder. But she'd convince the police she was innocent.
#21. What is 6’s (Matthew Bellamy) secret?
That he's selling CIA secrets to the KGB which has jeopardised missions and caused the death of three of his friends.
#22. If 11 (Russell Faraday) and 9 (Gordon Magnus) were racing to a destination, who would get there first?
Magnus would never run, but Faraday would clearly cheat to win anyway.
#23. If you had to walk home through a bad neighborhood late at night, would you feel safer in the company of 7 (Thomas Ferrers) or 8 (Samuel Coleridge)?
Well, Thomas would be an absolute coward and run hearing a cat miaow, and Coleridge would probably be the one to make it a bad neighbour. I'd say Coleridge as people would be scared of him.
#24. 1 (Jack Redgrave) and 9 (Gordon Magnus) reluctantly team up to save the world from the threat posed by 4’s (Roger Waters) sinister secret organization. 11 (Russell Faraday) volunteers to help them, but it is later discovered that he is actually a spy for 4 (Roger Waters). Meanwhile, 4 (Roger Waters) has kidnapped 12 (James Barker) in an attempt to force their surrender. Following the wise advice of 5 (Bethany Allen), they seek out 3 (Charles Bennett), who gives them what they need to complete their quest. What title would you give this fic?
I...have....no....idea....
Monday 26 May 2008
Saturday 24 May 2008
'Wild Is The Wind'- Part 3
The final part of 'Wild Is The Wind'. It's the end of this mystery, but I get the feeling that Jack Redgrave will find another case to solve.
I decided it’d be good manners to go to Bruce Watson’s funeral. I was sure if I paid my condolences and explained my situation, a family member might be willing to cover the bill of my services for him. But as the taxi drove me to the funeral, I realised that they might not be too happy that the person I had been paid to look for actually killed Bruce. As I had dusted down funeral suit and had it dry cleaned for no mere sum and paid for the taxi I decided I‘d have to sit through the funeral..
The funeral was a quiet affair, only about ten or twelve people were in attendance. There was one mourner I was very surprised to see, and that was Russell Faraday. He styled himself as a ‘gentleman gangster’, but he was nothing more than a West End hoodlum. I had run into him on occasion before, and knowing his reputation I was very curious to know what on earth he was doing at this funeral.
I waited till it was over, and I noticed him ducked around the back of the church for a crafty cigarette. His heavies were waiting in the car, so I thought I’d go and say ‘hello’. He was a well dressed man, that could be said. Always in the finest of suits, with his hair slicked over with brylcreem, and probably his moustache too.
“Hello, Russell.” I announced.
He jumped, then grinned. “Jack Redgrave. Still playing Humphrey Bogart?”
“Still playing James Cagney?”
He laughed aloud loud, and carried on talking in a thick London accent, “You’re real funny. You’re a real funny guy, Jack. Anybody ever tell you that?”
“Not as I often as I’d like.” I took out a cigarette, and Russell lit it for me with his silver Zippo lighter.
“What brings you here?” He asked.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m paying my respects. You?”
“Same.” I took a drag of the cigarette, “I did a job for the guy.”
“He pay you?”
I shook my head, “Never did. Said he would, though.”
“Yeah, unreliable git. He owned me money too. Said he’d pay me as soon as he got outta jail. Sod’s law I only learn he’s outta jail when I find out he’s dead.”
“Tough luck.”
“Tell me about it.” He stroked his moustache. “He owned me a lot of money. Buried it before he went to jail.”
“From the robberies?”
“Yeah. Couple years ago now.”
I nodded, “More brawn than brains that guy.”
“Nah, he weren’t like that all the time. You know the only person he said he’d tell where the money was, was the bird he was seeing. Then she went and shot him!” He laughed loudly, a dirty laugh. “I hear you’re friendly with his bird?”
I shook my head, “Not anymore.”
“Shame. Bet Bruce didn’t even get a chance to tell her when the dough was hidden.”
“Don’t think they did much talking.”
He told a drag of his smoke and said, “Yeah. Read about in the paper. They fight, then blam.”
“That’s it in a nutshell.”
He sighed, “All that money, eh?”
“Yeah.”
“Just rotting away somewhere. Think most of the family are hoping it’ll turn up in his will.”
I raised at eyebrow, “And you’re not expecting it too?”
He shook his head, “Nah, ‘course not. No guy would ever put his buried treasure in his will.”
“Maybe he left a treasure map.”
Russell laughed out loud again, “You always make me laugh, I tell ya.” He then asked, “I always wanted to know- are you having fun being a private eye than you were as one of the pigs?”
“Being a pig pays better.”
He finished his cigarette and stubbed it out on a gravestone. “Oh well, see you around, Jackie-boy.”
It took me a while to figure it out. It was after the funeral, I was back in my office, drinking a cup of tea and doing the cryptic crossword when it all began to make sense. Something Sylvester had said had stuck in my mind, I thought nothing of it at first, but the more I sat and thought the more it made sense. It was just like one of the cryptic clues in the crossword, of course I hadn’t understood it at first, you never do, but once I did… I leaped out of my chair, grabbed my hat and my coat and went out.
I knew who would hold all the answers, so I tailed them for a while. I began to doubt myself and what I’d worked out, but as soon as night time came it all began to fall into place. The one I was tailing hailed a taxi, so I got one as well, and in true Hollywood style I told the driver to “Follow that car!” He had a laugh, then realised I was serious. The taxi drove out of London to a wood. When the other taxi stopped, so did ours. The person I was tailing got out and the taxi went. I paid the driver and he went off. I began to walk through the woods, I could see they knew were they were going. Once they found what they were looking for I stopped and lurked in the shadows of the trees.
When they got what they wanted, I thought it would be time to show myself. I strolled along as casually as I could, but they didn’t notice me. Loudly I said, “Of all the gin joints in all the world…” They turned around and shone a torch into my face, “You had to walk into mine.” I grinned. “Hello, Bethany.”
“Jack? What the hell are you doing here?” She said in her familiar drawl.
“Oh, you know, just taking a stroll.” On the floor before her was a spade, a large hole in the earth, and a brown, dirt covered suitcase. “So, what brings you here?”
“Jack, I…”
I waved my hand, “It was clever. I’ve got to admit that, Beth. Real clever. Would have been perfect if I didn’t get in the way, right?”
As she spoke, her right hand was reaching into her coat pocket, “Jack, I have no idea what…”
“Beth, please. I know you’ve got that gun in your pocket.” Her eyes widened, I knew I was right. She took her hand out of her pocket. I continued- “You wanted Bruce Watson to find you, didn’t you? Because you knew he’d tell you were the money from the robberies was. It was you who sent the letter tipping him off.”
“And I knew you’d never tell Bruce where I was.” Her lip curled, “Guess you did like me.”
“So,” I said, “You knew he’d got a temper on him. You knew he’d cause a fuss. So, nobody’s going to doubt that a violent criminal would be carrying a gun on him. It was only today I realised that it was a .22, which gets called a ‘woman’s gun’. So no self-respecting criminal would be caught dead carrying one.” I paused and then added, “But poor Bruce was caught dead with one. After all, does a man that size really need to carry a gun to be threatening? So, you waited for him to show, and when he does you get him to tell you where the money is. I don’t know how you got him to tell you, but maybe he did love you. But as soon as he did…” I turned my fingers into a gun shape and made a popping noise. “Exit Bruce.”
She licked her lips and said, “Do you know how long I’ve waited to get this money? All the years I spent waiting for him to get out of jail…” She started to get louder, “I gave up on it, that’s why I stopped writing to him. Then you go and tell me that he’s out and he’s looking for me! It was my chance to get the money, Jack! Thousand of pounds!”
I put my hands up in defence, “Ok, ok! I just came to talk to you, Beth… because you do know that Bruce owes me money?”
“What?”
“He never paid me to look for you.”
“But you didn’t look for me!”
“That’s not the point, Beth. I’d like my pay, if that’s alright with you.” I took a step towards the suitcase and she quickly pulled out the .22 from her coat pocket.
“And what makes you think I’m just going to hand the money over?”
I raised my hands again, “Whoa, I’m not asking for all of it! Just 50-50!” The gun clicked as she took the safety off, “Ok, just as much as Bruce owned me…”
“I could just kill you.” She snarled.
I grinned, “After all the fun times we had together?”
“I’m warning you, Jack…”
“And I’m warning you- I‘ve got friends.”
Her brow furrowed, “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“That in the event of my death, a couple letters will be sent. First to my old mate Sylvester Hartnell, you remember him, don’t you? The proper detective who questioned you? It’ll tell him all about you killing Bruce and me… he’ll be able to match the bullets from the gun.” She looked nervously down at her gun. Of course there was no letter. It’s just a good thing to say when somebody’s pointing a gun at you. I carried on, “And they’ll be another one sent to Russell Faraday.”
Puzzled, she asked, “Russell Faraday?”
“Yeah. He’s looking for Bruce’s money as well. The money Bruce owes him from the robberies.”
She shook her head, “Bruce wasn’t working for Russell Faraday.”
“I spoke to Faraday…”
“No, Bruce told me everything. He didn’t say a word about Faraday.”
I began to lower my hands, “Then how did Russell Faraday know Bruce had buried the money?” There was a pause, and at the same time we both looked down the suitcase. I made a step towards it, but she made a ‘Ah!’ noise and I stopped. “Ok, ok!” I said. Still, keeping one eye on me, she kneeled down and began to open the suitcase. With her free hand, she opened first the left catch, then the right one and lifted the lid.
There was money alright. Lots of it. Only trouble was it was money from the board game Monopoly. I dropped my hands and let out a loud laugh. Got to hand it to the guy for having a good sense of humour. There was a note on top of the coloured paper money, Beth picked it up, stood up and read it out loud in a disdaining voice, “I got to Bruce first- ha ha ha, love Russell.”
I chuckled, “Oh that crafty devil.” Beth glared at me. “Come on, you’ve got to admit it’s quite funny.” She just shook her head. Russell Faraday had probably heard the rumour that Bruce had hidden some money, waited till he got out, got the information off him by hook or by crook. It explained why he probably turned up to the funeral- see who else was interested in the money. Crafty devil. “We’ve both been had.” I nodded my head towards the way out of the woods, “Come on, let’s get going, I’ll get you a cup of tea, my shout.” Beth just said nothing. “Something stronger instead?”
She began to shake her head, then walked up to me and hissed, “Go to hell, Jack.” She turned and began to walk away from me. I watched her go. I took off my hat and scratched my head.
“Women.” I sighed.
FIN
David Bowie- 'Wild Is The Wind'
I decided it’d be good manners to go to Bruce Watson’s funeral. I was sure if I paid my condolences and explained my situation, a family member might be willing to cover the bill of my services for him. But as the taxi drove me to the funeral, I realised that they might not be too happy that the person I had been paid to look for actually killed Bruce. As I had dusted down funeral suit and had it dry cleaned for no mere sum and paid for the taxi I decided I‘d have to sit through the funeral..
The funeral was a quiet affair, only about ten or twelve people were in attendance. There was one mourner I was very surprised to see, and that was Russell Faraday. He styled himself as a ‘gentleman gangster’, but he was nothing more than a West End hoodlum. I had run into him on occasion before, and knowing his reputation I was very curious to know what on earth he was doing at this funeral.
I waited till it was over, and I noticed him ducked around the back of the church for a crafty cigarette. His heavies were waiting in the car, so I thought I’d go and say ‘hello’. He was a well dressed man, that could be said. Always in the finest of suits, with his hair slicked over with brylcreem, and probably his moustache too.
“Hello, Russell.” I announced.
He jumped, then grinned. “Jack Redgrave. Still playing Humphrey Bogart?”
“Still playing James Cagney?”
He laughed aloud loud, and carried on talking in a thick London accent, “You’re real funny. You’re a real funny guy, Jack. Anybody ever tell you that?”
“Not as I often as I’d like.” I took out a cigarette, and Russell lit it for me with his silver Zippo lighter.
“What brings you here?” He asked.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m paying my respects. You?”
“Same.” I took a drag of the cigarette, “I did a job for the guy.”
“He pay you?”
I shook my head, “Never did. Said he would, though.”
“Yeah, unreliable git. He owned me money too. Said he’d pay me as soon as he got outta jail. Sod’s law I only learn he’s outta jail when I find out he’s dead.”
“Tough luck.”
“Tell me about it.” He stroked his moustache. “He owned me a lot of money. Buried it before he went to jail.”
“From the robberies?”
“Yeah. Couple years ago now.”
I nodded, “More brawn than brains that guy.”
“Nah, he weren’t like that all the time. You know the only person he said he’d tell where the money was, was the bird he was seeing. Then she went and shot him!” He laughed loudly, a dirty laugh. “I hear you’re friendly with his bird?”
I shook my head, “Not anymore.”
“Shame. Bet Bruce didn’t even get a chance to tell her when the dough was hidden.”
“Don’t think they did much talking.”
He told a drag of his smoke and said, “Yeah. Read about in the paper. They fight, then blam.”
“That’s it in a nutshell.”
He sighed, “All that money, eh?”
“Yeah.”
“Just rotting away somewhere. Think most of the family are hoping it’ll turn up in his will.”
I raised at eyebrow, “And you’re not expecting it too?”
He shook his head, “Nah, ‘course not. No guy would ever put his buried treasure in his will.”
“Maybe he left a treasure map.”
Russell laughed out loud again, “You always make me laugh, I tell ya.” He then asked, “I always wanted to know- are you having fun being a private eye than you were as one of the pigs?”
“Being a pig pays better.”
He finished his cigarette and stubbed it out on a gravestone. “Oh well, see you around, Jackie-boy.”
It took me a while to figure it out. It was after the funeral, I was back in my office, drinking a cup of tea and doing the cryptic crossword when it all began to make sense. Something Sylvester had said had stuck in my mind, I thought nothing of it at first, but the more I sat and thought the more it made sense. It was just like one of the cryptic clues in the crossword, of course I hadn’t understood it at first, you never do, but once I did… I leaped out of my chair, grabbed my hat and my coat and went out.
I knew who would hold all the answers, so I tailed them for a while. I began to doubt myself and what I’d worked out, but as soon as night time came it all began to fall into place. The one I was tailing hailed a taxi, so I got one as well, and in true Hollywood style I told the driver to “Follow that car!” He had a laugh, then realised I was serious. The taxi drove out of London to a wood. When the other taxi stopped, so did ours. The person I was tailing got out and the taxi went. I paid the driver and he went off. I began to walk through the woods, I could see they knew were they were going. Once they found what they were looking for I stopped and lurked in the shadows of the trees.
When they got what they wanted, I thought it would be time to show myself. I strolled along as casually as I could, but they didn’t notice me. Loudly I said, “Of all the gin joints in all the world…” They turned around and shone a torch into my face, “You had to walk into mine.” I grinned. “Hello, Bethany.”
“Jack? What the hell are you doing here?” She said in her familiar drawl.
“Oh, you know, just taking a stroll.” On the floor before her was a spade, a large hole in the earth, and a brown, dirt covered suitcase. “So, what brings you here?”
“Jack, I…”
I waved my hand, “It was clever. I’ve got to admit that, Beth. Real clever. Would have been perfect if I didn’t get in the way, right?”
As she spoke, her right hand was reaching into her coat pocket, “Jack, I have no idea what…”
“Beth, please. I know you’ve got that gun in your pocket.” Her eyes widened, I knew I was right. She took her hand out of her pocket. I continued- “You wanted Bruce Watson to find you, didn’t you? Because you knew he’d tell you were the money from the robberies was. It was you who sent the letter tipping him off.”
“And I knew you’d never tell Bruce where I was.” Her lip curled, “Guess you did like me.”
“So,” I said, “You knew he’d got a temper on him. You knew he’d cause a fuss. So, nobody’s going to doubt that a violent criminal would be carrying a gun on him. It was only today I realised that it was a .22, which gets called a ‘woman’s gun’. So no self-respecting criminal would be caught dead carrying one.” I paused and then added, “But poor Bruce was caught dead with one. After all, does a man that size really need to carry a gun to be threatening? So, you waited for him to show, and when he does you get him to tell you where the money is. I don’t know how you got him to tell you, but maybe he did love you. But as soon as he did…” I turned my fingers into a gun shape and made a popping noise. “Exit Bruce.”
She licked her lips and said, “Do you know how long I’ve waited to get this money? All the years I spent waiting for him to get out of jail…” She started to get louder, “I gave up on it, that’s why I stopped writing to him. Then you go and tell me that he’s out and he’s looking for me! It was my chance to get the money, Jack! Thousand of pounds!”
I put my hands up in defence, “Ok, ok! I just came to talk to you, Beth… because you do know that Bruce owes me money?”
“What?”
“He never paid me to look for you.”
“But you didn’t look for me!”
“That’s not the point, Beth. I’d like my pay, if that’s alright with you.” I took a step towards the suitcase and she quickly pulled out the .22 from her coat pocket.
“And what makes you think I’m just going to hand the money over?”
I raised my hands again, “Whoa, I’m not asking for all of it! Just 50-50!” The gun clicked as she took the safety off, “Ok, just as much as Bruce owned me…”
“I could just kill you.” She snarled.
I grinned, “After all the fun times we had together?”
“I’m warning you, Jack…”
“And I’m warning you- I‘ve got friends.”
Her brow furrowed, “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“That in the event of my death, a couple letters will be sent. First to my old mate Sylvester Hartnell, you remember him, don’t you? The proper detective who questioned you? It’ll tell him all about you killing Bruce and me… he’ll be able to match the bullets from the gun.” She looked nervously down at her gun. Of course there was no letter. It’s just a good thing to say when somebody’s pointing a gun at you. I carried on, “And they’ll be another one sent to Russell Faraday.”
Puzzled, she asked, “Russell Faraday?”
“Yeah. He’s looking for Bruce’s money as well. The money Bruce owes him from the robberies.”
She shook her head, “Bruce wasn’t working for Russell Faraday.”
“I spoke to Faraday…”
“No, Bruce told me everything. He didn’t say a word about Faraday.”
I began to lower my hands, “Then how did Russell Faraday know Bruce had buried the money?” There was a pause, and at the same time we both looked down the suitcase. I made a step towards it, but she made a ‘Ah!’ noise and I stopped. “Ok, ok!” I said. Still, keeping one eye on me, she kneeled down and began to open the suitcase. With her free hand, she opened first the left catch, then the right one and lifted the lid.
There was money alright. Lots of it. Only trouble was it was money from the board game Monopoly. I dropped my hands and let out a loud laugh. Got to hand it to the guy for having a good sense of humour. There was a note on top of the coloured paper money, Beth picked it up, stood up and read it out loud in a disdaining voice, “I got to Bruce first- ha ha ha, love Russell.”
I chuckled, “Oh that crafty devil.” Beth glared at me. “Come on, you’ve got to admit it’s quite funny.” She just shook her head. Russell Faraday had probably heard the rumour that Bruce had hidden some money, waited till he got out, got the information off him by hook or by crook. It explained why he probably turned up to the funeral- see who else was interested in the money. Crafty devil. “We’ve both been had.” I nodded my head towards the way out of the woods, “Come on, let’s get going, I’ll get you a cup of tea, my shout.” Beth just said nothing. “Something stronger instead?”
She began to shake her head, then walked up to me and hissed, “Go to hell, Jack.” She turned and began to walk away from me. I watched her go. I took off my hat and scratched my head.
“Women.” I sighed.
FIN
David Bowie- 'Wild Is The Wind'
Tuesday 20 May 2008
'Wild Is The Wind'- Part 2
As I started to write the conclusion to 'Wild Is The Wind' I realized that it wouldn't be just this part, there'd have to be one more to get everything in. I'll wait either a couple of days before putting the final part up.
I spent the next two weeks doing The Times cryptic crossword each day. By the end of two weeks, I was getting pretty good at it. You eventually learn how the guy who writes the questions thinks, you can see the methods he uses. So, as I was doing 19 across there was a loud knock on my door, and I guessed that it could only belong to one person.
“Come on in.” I called, and as expected Bruce Watson came in, ducking to avoid hitting his head. I stood up and shook his hand.
“Hello, Bruce. Drink?”
“No. I don’t want one.” He spoke quickly, as if he had somewhere more important to be.
“Well…” I motioned for him to sit down, which he promptly did. I took a deep breathe and got my act ready. “You must understand, Bruce, looking for someone who’s been gone out of your life for a long time is a difficult task. She isn’t fresh in people‘s minds. Anything could have happened, right?” I was met with stony silence. Not a muscle of his face moved. He just sat, holding his cap in his hands. I cleared my throat and continued, “I think there’s the possibility of a trail in Scotland, but I can’t be too sure. If you want me to find out, you’ll have to hire my services for another week. Or, you could go up there and investigate yourself.”
There was a long silence. He just sat, staring at me as if I’d just come out of a flying saucer. “Bruce?” I asked, “Everything alright?”
Again there was a long silence and he said, “You’re lying.”
I froze, then smiled and said, “Pardon?”
“She’s here in London.”
I did a fake laugh and said, “If she was I would know.”
“I got a letter.” He said. His giant hand reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a yellowish envelope. He opened it and took out a piece of paper.
“What does it say, Bruce?” I asked.
He began to read it aloud, slowly, being very careful with the words, “Kiki is alive and well and in London. Go to the Victory Club tonight.”
I shook my head, “The Victory Club is only down the road, I’ve been there a couple times. I’ve never seen or heard of the girl you’re looking for. When did you get the letter?”
“This morning.”
“Do you know who sent it?”
“Of course I don’t.”
“So it hasn’t been signed or…”
He cut in, “I’m not thick, you know.”
“Ok. Ok. Just… let me look at the envelope.”
He looked at me strangely, and reluctantly passed it over to me. I checked the postmark- it was London. Somebody had to know about Beth and Bruce other than me. And if Bruce knew that she was in London… I had to tell her somehow.
I smiled as best as I could and passed in back to Bruce, “Don’t get your hopes up. It looks like a fake.”
“It does?” He said
“Sure. I can spot them a mile off. I mean, whoever sent it gives no evidence, and if your… Kiki was working at the Victory Club down the road I would have known about it!”
Just by looking at the great brute you could see the cogs in his heads working. “So… they’re probably lying to me?”
“Absolutely. Now, about payments for my services…”
“I can pay you.” He said quickly.
“Well that’s great. Cheque or cash would be wonderful.” I leaned back on my chair, and when he failed to respond I became worried. “You can pay me, Bruce?”
“Sure. Just give me a week.”
I groaned. There’s always a catch, “I generally do expect money up front…”
“I’ll get it too you, ok?” He almost shouted.
I raised my hands in defence. “Fine. Fine. I’ll give you a week, ok? But if I don’t get my money… I’ll have to go to the police.” That got him.
“I’ll get your money, I will. I swear.”
I stood up. “Be sure you do, Mr. Watson.” It felt good to have power over such a big guy. I said my goodbyes and opened the door for him. As soon as he had gone I returned to my desk. I had to let Beth know that somebody knew about her, but I had no idea where she lived. Some flat somewhere, but I couldn’t be sure, she never invited me around there. The only place I knew she’d be would be the Victory Club. It was only a matter of time before it opened. I decided to carry on with the crossword until the time came.
At half 9 I turned up at the stage door of the Victory Club, but I was too late. It looked as though somebody knocked it down with a battering ram. I went through the gap where the door used to be, and I saw Bill, sprawled on the floor. I kneeled down to check on him. He was still alive, which was a good thing, but he’d been knocked out for the count. He’d have a nasty bruise where he’d been thumped when he woke up tomorrow morning. There was a shriek, and then that awful sound of a gun going off. It was like a small crack of thunder. I ran down the corridor, knowing exactly where the sound had come from.
I went into Beth’s dressing room, unsurprised at the sight before me. Beth stood shaking on one side of the room and on the other Bruce Watson sat on the floor, with a bullet shot just below his right eye. He was as dead as Hitler. The gun was in the middle, a little .22. Beth turned and looked at me, her eyes welling with tears. She ran to me, and I held her as tightly as I could.
It didn’t take too long for the police to turn up. The manager had rung them. Thankfully the patrons of the Club hadn’t heard the gunshot over the noise of the jazz band, so they had no idea that the body with a bullet in it’s brain was lying only a few feet away. The manager, Jenkins, had gotten me and Beth some stiff drinks which we downed in silence. We worked our way through a pack of cigarettes until the police turned up. It was lucky as Sylvester Hartnell was in charge of the case, he was a guy I used to work with. I went outside when they questioned Beth. As soon as it was finished, Sylvester came outside and joined me. He was a small man, and his hair was going a bit grey now, but he had much life in him.
“Hello, Jack.” He said.
“Hello, Syl. How’s things?”
“Not too bad, Jack. Not too bad. Me and Doreen are expecting another little one.”
“Congratulations. It’ll be your third, right?”
“Yeah.”
I asked, “How old’s your eldest now? 5?
“Six.” He replied.
“Time flies, hey?”
“It sure does, Jack. You know I should be asking you official questions right now?”
I offered him a cigarette, which he took. “That what I always liked about you, Syl. You’ve always got time for an old friend.”
He laughed and said, “Well I can take a good guess why you were here tonight. It’s was always the blondes with you wasn’t it?”
I smirked, “Not always.”
“Ah, I know you too well, Jack. So- you and her?”
I shook my head, “Oh, no. No.” I then added, “Well, we did once, but that was a while ago now. I was flavour of the month of all of five minutes.”
“And yet you still never gave up?”
I shrugged, “Flavours of the month can come back in fashion.”
He smiled, “You never change.” He sighed, “Well, Bruce Watson’s dead as anything.”
“Let me guess,” I said, “He stormed in, argued, they fought, she got the gun and fired a shot off.”
“Got it in one.”
“The gun was a .22, right?”
He smiled. “Your eyes are as sharp as ever. Yeah, it was a .22, a woman’s gun really, but it as probably all the poor bugger could afford.”
“What‘s going to happen to Beth?”
“If a bull like Bruce Watson stormed in with a gun, I’d probably want to shoot him as well” He paused and added, “But what I’d like to know, Jack, is why you told him where she was?”
“I didn’t. He got an anonymous letter telling him where to find her. I did my best to convince him it was a fake.”
He shook his head. “Not good enough though.”
“Clearly.” I took my final drag on the cigarette and tossed it to the floor. “What was Bruce Watson in jail for?”
“Armed robbery. He was in a gang, they robbed 5 or 6 Post Offices in a week. He’s the first of the gang to be let out, only because he snitched on the others.”
“Couldn’t imagine him planning a robbery.”
“He was just the muscle.”
“No surprise there.” I said.
Sylvester gave me a funny look and asked, “Did you know that Bruce Watson didn’t have a penny to his name when he came out of jail?”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
I said glumly, “I wondered why he didn’t pay me.”
“Well, the money from the robberies was never recovered. Rumour was that only Bruce knew where it was.”
“And now nobody’ll ever know.”
“Exactly.” A police offer called something to Sylvester, so he patted me on the back and said “Guess I’ll be seeing you around, Jack.”
“Sure, Syl.”
“Stay out of trouble!”
I smirked, “When have I ever got in trouble?”
“Goodbye, Jack. You ought to visit sometime.”
“Maybe I will.” I said. I watched him walk away to confer with the other police officers, then turned around and went back inside of the Victory Club. I went to Beth’s dressing room, and saw her sitting on the sofa, staring into space, a drink in her hand. I stuck my head around the door and said, “You want me to call you a taxi?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s alright.”
I took a couple of steps into the room, and took off my fedora. “I’m sorry, Beth.”
“I just can’t believe you told him I was here.”
“No! I wouldn’t! I didn’t!”
She never once looked up at me. She just stared at the wall. “Well, how come he turned up here?”
“He got a letter from somebody.”
She raise her eyebrows and said quietly, “You really expect me to believe that, Jack?”
I kneeled down next to her and tried to take hold of her hand, but she moved it away. “Beth, I would never do anything to harm you.”
“Go away, Jack.”
“Bethany, please…”
She shook her head, “No. I just hope the money he gave you was worth it.”
“I wouldn’t put money before you.”
“Just get out, Jack. Before I call somebody to get rid of you.”
I bowed my head in defeat. There would be no convincing her. I stood up and hung there for a few moments, “Well… be seeing you, then.”
She responded by taking a sip from her glass. I put my hat on and left her alone.
I spent the next two weeks doing The Times cryptic crossword each day. By the end of two weeks, I was getting pretty good at it. You eventually learn how the guy who writes the questions thinks, you can see the methods he uses. So, as I was doing 19 across there was a loud knock on my door, and I guessed that it could only belong to one person.
“Come on in.” I called, and as expected Bruce Watson came in, ducking to avoid hitting his head. I stood up and shook his hand.
“Hello, Bruce. Drink?”
“No. I don’t want one.” He spoke quickly, as if he had somewhere more important to be.
“Well…” I motioned for him to sit down, which he promptly did. I took a deep breathe and got my act ready. “You must understand, Bruce, looking for someone who’s been gone out of your life for a long time is a difficult task. She isn’t fresh in people‘s minds. Anything could have happened, right?” I was met with stony silence. Not a muscle of his face moved. He just sat, holding his cap in his hands. I cleared my throat and continued, “I think there’s the possibility of a trail in Scotland, but I can’t be too sure. If you want me to find out, you’ll have to hire my services for another week. Or, you could go up there and investigate yourself.”
There was a long silence. He just sat, staring at me as if I’d just come out of a flying saucer. “Bruce?” I asked, “Everything alright?”
Again there was a long silence and he said, “You’re lying.”
I froze, then smiled and said, “Pardon?”
“She’s here in London.”
I did a fake laugh and said, “If she was I would know.”
“I got a letter.” He said. His giant hand reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a yellowish envelope. He opened it and took out a piece of paper.
“What does it say, Bruce?” I asked.
He began to read it aloud, slowly, being very careful with the words, “Kiki is alive and well and in London. Go to the Victory Club tonight.”
I shook my head, “The Victory Club is only down the road, I’ve been there a couple times. I’ve never seen or heard of the girl you’re looking for. When did you get the letter?”
“This morning.”
“Do you know who sent it?”
“Of course I don’t.”
“So it hasn’t been signed or…”
He cut in, “I’m not thick, you know.”
“Ok. Ok. Just… let me look at the envelope.”
He looked at me strangely, and reluctantly passed it over to me. I checked the postmark- it was London. Somebody had to know about Beth and Bruce other than me. And if Bruce knew that she was in London… I had to tell her somehow.
I smiled as best as I could and passed in back to Bruce, “Don’t get your hopes up. It looks like a fake.”
“It does?” He said
“Sure. I can spot them a mile off. I mean, whoever sent it gives no evidence, and if your… Kiki was working at the Victory Club down the road I would have known about it!”
Just by looking at the great brute you could see the cogs in his heads working. “So… they’re probably lying to me?”
“Absolutely. Now, about payments for my services…”
“I can pay you.” He said quickly.
“Well that’s great. Cheque or cash would be wonderful.” I leaned back on my chair, and when he failed to respond I became worried. “You can pay me, Bruce?”
“Sure. Just give me a week.”
I groaned. There’s always a catch, “I generally do expect money up front…”
“I’ll get it too you, ok?” He almost shouted.
I raised my hands in defence. “Fine. Fine. I’ll give you a week, ok? But if I don’t get my money… I’ll have to go to the police.” That got him.
“I’ll get your money, I will. I swear.”
I stood up. “Be sure you do, Mr. Watson.” It felt good to have power over such a big guy. I said my goodbyes and opened the door for him. As soon as he had gone I returned to my desk. I had to let Beth know that somebody knew about her, but I had no idea where she lived. Some flat somewhere, but I couldn’t be sure, she never invited me around there. The only place I knew she’d be would be the Victory Club. It was only a matter of time before it opened. I decided to carry on with the crossword until the time came.
At half 9 I turned up at the stage door of the Victory Club, but I was too late. It looked as though somebody knocked it down with a battering ram. I went through the gap where the door used to be, and I saw Bill, sprawled on the floor. I kneeled down to check on him. He was still alive, which was a good thing, but he’d been knocked out for the count. He’d have a nasty bruise where he’d been thumped when he woke up tomorrow morning. There was a shriek, and then that awful sound of a gun going off. It was like a small crack of thunder. I ran down the corridor, knowing exactly where the sound had come from.
I went into Beth’s dressing room, unsurprised at the sight before me. Beth stood shaking on one side of the room and on the other Bruce Watson sat on the floor, with a bullet shot just below his right eye. He was as dead as Hitler. The gun was in the middle, a little .22. Beth turned and looked at me, her eyes welling with tears. She ran to me, and I held her as tightly as I could.
It didn’t take too long for the police to turn up. The manager had rung them. Thankfully the patrons of the Club hadn’t heard the gunshot over the noise of the jazz band, so they had no idea that the body with a bullet in it’s brain was lying only a few feet away. The manager, Jenkins, had gotten me and Beth some stiff drinks which we downed in silence. We worked our way through a pack of cigarettes until the police turned up. It was lucky as Sylvester Hartnell was in charge of the case, he was a guy I used to work with. I went outside when they questioned Beth. As soon as it was finished, Sylvester came outside and joined me. He was a small man, and his hair was going a bit grey now, but he had much life in him.
“Hello, Jack.” He said.
“Hello, Syl. How’s things?”
“Not too bad, Jack. Not too bad. Me and Doreen are expecting another little one.”
“Congratulations. It’ll be your third, right?”
“Yeah.”
I asked, “How old’s your eldest now? 5?
“Six.” He replied.
“Time flies, hey?”
“It sure does, Jack. You know I should be asking you official questions right now?”
I offered him a cigarette, which he took. “That what I always liked about you, Syl. You’ve always got time for an old friend.”
He laughed and said, “Well I can take a good guess why you were here tonight. It’s was always the blondes with you wasn’t it?”
I smirked, “Not always.”
“Ah, I know you too well, Jack. So- you and her?”
I shook my head, “Oh, no. No.” I then added, “Well, we did once, but that was a while ago now. I was flavour of the month of all of five minutes.”
“And yet you still never gave up?”
I shrugged, “Flavours of the month can come back in fashion.”
He smiled, “You never change.” He sighed, “Well, Bruce Watson’s dead as anything.”
“Let me guess,” I said, “He stormed in, argued, they fought, she got the gun and fired a shot off.”
“Got it in one.”
“The gun was a .22, right?”
He smiled. “Your eyes are as sharp as ever. Yeah, it was a .22, a woman’s gun really, but it as probably all the poor bugger could afford.”
“What‘s going to happen to Beth?”
“If a bull like Bruce Watson stormed in with a gun, I’d probably want to shoot him as well” He paused and added, “But what I’d like to know, Jack, is why you told him where she was?”
“I didn’t. He got an anonymous letter telling him where to find her. I did my best to convince him it was a fake.”
He shook his head. “Not good enough though.”
“Clearly.” I took my final drag on the cigarette and tossed it to the floor. “What was Bruce Watson in jail for?”
“Armed robbery. He was in a gang, they robbed 5 or 6 Post Offices in a week. He’s the first of the gang to be let out, only because he snitched on the others.”
“Couldn’t imagine him planning a robbery.”
“He was just the muscle.”
“No surprise there.” I said.
Sylvester gave me a funny look and asked, “Did you know that Bruce Watson didn’t have a penny to his name when he came out of jail?”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
I said glumly, “I wondered why he didn’t pay me.”
“Well, the money from the robberies was never recovered. Rumour was that only Bruce knew where it was.”
“And now nobody’ll ever know.”
“Exactly.” A police offer called something to Sylvester, so he patted me on the back and said “Guess I’ll be seeing you around, Jack.”
“Sure, Syl.”
“Stay out of trouble!”
I smirked, “When have I ever got in trouble?”
“Goodbye, Jack. You ought to visit sometime.”
“Maybe I will.” I said. I watched him walk away to confer with the other police officers, then turned around and went back inside of the Victory Club. I went to Beth’s dressing room, and saw her sitting on the sofa, staring into space, a drink in her hand. I stuck my head around the door and said, “You want me to call you a taxi?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s alright.”
I took a couple of steps into the room, and took off my fedora. “I’m sorry, Beth.”
“I just can’t believe you told him I was here.”
“No! I wouldn’t! I didn’t!”
She never once looked up at me. She just stared at the wall. “Well, how come he turned up here?”
“He got a letter from somebody.”
She raise her eyebrows and said quietly, “You really expect me to believe that, Jack?”
I kneeled down next to her and tried to take hold of her hand, but she moved it away. “Beth, I would never do anything to harm you.”
“Go away, Jack.”
“Bethany, please…”
She shook her head, “No. I just hope the money he gave you was worth it.”
“I wouldn’t put money before you.”
“Just get out, Jack. Before I call somebody to get rid of you.”
I bowed my head in defeat. There would be no convincing her. I stood up and hung there for a few moments, “Well… be seeing you, then.”
She responded by taking a sip from her glass. I put my hat on and left her alone.
Monday 19 May 2008
Writing And Other Such Forms Of Insanity
I mercilessly stole these question, mainly as I found them very interesting and I love to ramble about writing.
1. Do you outline?
Not on paper, I used to, but I normally keep it all in my head.
2. Do you write straight through a book, or do you sometimes tackle the scenes out of order?
I have to write them straight through, I think I work better when I'm following the characters through their journey.
3. Do you prefer writing with a pen or using a computer?
Mostly computer for stories, scripts and some poems. I write on paper only for my journal and personal poems, I just think writing on paper is more intimate and immediate.
4. Do you prefer writing in first person or third?
I'm not sure, it varies depending on the story. I do love all the fun you can have with first person narrators, especially unreliable ones. I did have a phase where anytime I used a narrator they would either be lying or insane.
5. Do you listen to music while you write?
Absolutely! It's a very important factor to me to help me write! I try to listen to music that fits the mood of the piece, like for out-and-out horror I like to some fast rock and bombastic pieces of classical music (like 'O Fortuna'), and then for my play 'Stand+Deliver!' I listened to lots of punk rock to go with the rebellion theme. For the short 'Wild Is The Wind' (which, coincidentally, is just below this post- so why not read it???) I listened to lots of Nina Simone to get a jazzy 50's mood.
6. How do you come up with the perfect names for your characters?
With great difficulty! Naming characters is as important as naming children! I try to draw on mixing of names, for example in 'Wild Is The Wind' (shameless plug because I'm going to post the second part of it soon) I named the narrator Jack Redgrave because on the day I started writing I saw the film version of 'The Importance of Being Ernest' (of which I once was in a production of), in which Michael Redgrave played Jack Worthing... thus Jack Redgrave! In my play 'Berlin' I named the double-crossing CIA agent Matthew Bellamy after a certain rock star I have a great disdain for.
7. When you’re writing, do you ever imagine your book as a television show or movie?
Well, we all see stories in our head, so I imagine it like that.
8. Have you ever had a character insist on doing something you really didn’t want him/her to do?
Sometimes. I think it's good when they do, it proves they're alive. I once have a character escape death when they were fated to die. The Grim Reaper caught up with them 3 chapters later to punish them with eye-gorging.
9. Do you know how a book is going to end when you start it?
Most of the time. I think it's important to have an idea of an end point, but sometimes I purposely don't think about the end until I come to write as it's more surprising.
10. Where do you write?
At my desk primarily. Though sometimes I like just to take my notebook out and do some jottings in the park.
11. What do you do when you get writer’s block?
get annoyed and grumble to myself a lot.
12. What size increments do you write in (either in terms of word count, or as a percentage of the book as a whole)?
13. How many different drafts did you write for your last project?
I'm an awful editor of my own work. I'm lucky if I see a second draft completed, let alone a third one!
14. Have you ever changed a character’s name midway through a draft?
Yes. In 'Berlin' after five scene Charles Franklin decided to become Charles Bennett.
15. Do you let anyone read your book while you’re working on it, or do you wait until you’ve completed a draft before letting someone else see it?
I try to wait till I'm finished with the first draft.
16. What do you do to celebrate when you finish a draft?
I generally just feel very contented and tip a glass of coke to my laptop.
17. One project at a time, or multiple projects at once?
I try to stick to one at a time, but I become easily distracted by other idea.
18. Do your books grow or shrink in revision?
Generally grow when I do revise.
19. Do you have any writing or critique partners?
Not really, unfortunately. I worry that people aren't really interested in what I've written.
20. Do you prefer drafting or revising?
Revising.
1. Do you outline?
Not on paper, I used to, but I normally keep it all in my head.
2. Do you write straight through a book, or do you sometimes tackle the scenes out of order?
I have to write them straight through, I think I work better when I'm following the characters through their journey.
3. Do you prefer writing with a pen or using a computer?
Mostly computer for stories, scripts and some poems. I write on paper only for my journal and personal poems, I just think writing on paper is more intimate and immediate.
4. Do you prefer writing in first person or third?
I'm not sure, it varies depending on the story. I do love all the fun you can have with first person narrators, especially unreliable ones. I did have a phase where anytime I used a narrator they would either be lying or insane.
5. Do you listen to music while you write?
Absolutely! It's a very important factor to me to help me write! I try to listen to music that fits the mood of the piece, like for out-and-out horror I like to some fast rock and bombastic pieces of classical music (like 'O Fortuna'), and then for my play 'Stand+Deliver!' I listened to lots of punk rock to go with the rebellion theme. For the short 'Wild Is The Wind' (which, coincidentally, is just below this post- so why not read it???) I listened to lots of Nina Simone to get a jazzy 50's mood.
6. How do you come up with the perfect names for your characters?
With great difficulty! Naming characters is as important as naming children! I try to draw on mixing of names, for example in 'Wild Is The Wind' (shameless plug because I'm going to post the second part of it soon) I named the narrator Jack Redgrave because on the day I started writing I saw the film version of 'The Importance of Being Ernest' (of which I once was in a production of), in which Michael Redgrave played Jack Worthing... thus Jack Redgrave! In my play 'Berlin' I named the double-crossing CIA agent Matthew Bellamy after a certain rock star I have a great disdain for.
7. When you’re writing, do you ever imagine your book as a television show or movie?
Well, we all see stories in our head, so I imagine it like that.
8. Have you ever had a character insist on doing something you really didn’t want him/her to do?
Sometimes. I think it's good when they do, it proves they're alive. I once have a character escape death when they were fated to die. The Grim Reaper caught up with them 3 chapters later to punish them with eye-gorging.
9. Do you know how a book is going to end when you start it?
Most of the time. I think it's important to have an idea of an end point, but sometimes I purposely don't think about the end until I come to write as it's more surprising.
10. Where do you write?
At my desk primarily. Though sometimes I like just to take my notebook out and do some jottings in the park.
11. What do you do when you get writer’s block?
get annoyed and grumble to myself a lot.
12. What size increments do you write in (either in terms of word count, or as a percentage of the book as a whole)?
13. How many different drafts did you write for your last project?
I'm an awful editor of my own work. I'm lucky if I see a second draft completed, let alone a third one!
14. Have you ever changed a character’s name midway through a draft?
Yes. In 'Berlin' after five scene Charles Franklin decided to become Charles Bennett.
15. Do you let anyone read your book while you’re working on it, or do you wait until you’ve completed a draft before letting someone else see it?
I try to wait till I'm finished with the first draft.
16. What do you do to celebrate when you finish a draft?
I generally just feel very contented and tip a glass of coke to my laptop.
17. One project at a time, or multiple projects at once?
I try to stick to one at a time, but I become easily distracted by other idea.
18. Do your books grow or shrink in revision?
Generally grow when I do revise.
19. Do you have any writing or critique partners?
Not really, unfortunately. I worry that people aren't really interested in what I've written.
20. Do you prefer drafting or revising?
Revising.
Saturday 17 May 2008
'Wild Is The Wind'
I wrote this short today due to the combination of these factors- boredom, copious amounts of tea, the painting 'Nighthawks at the Diner' as my desktop background, love of film noir and private detective characters and listening to lots of Nina Simone.
The suit was too small for the man. I don’t know how he had managed to squeeze into it, and how it had managed not to tear apart at any second. He must have been about 6 foot 7, he had to duck to avoid hitting the door frame when he came into my office. His hair was a little wavy, and his ape like face clean shaven.
“Please,” I said, “Sit down.” But I was a bit worried that the chair might break under his bulk.
“Thanks.” He said, but his voice didn’t match his looks, it was a little on the high pitched side.
“So, Mr…” I took a quick glance at the appointment note I’d made, “Watson. How can I help you.”“Well,” he started to play with his cotton cap, rolling it around his palms, “I’m looking for somebody… do you… look for people?”
“Congratulations, you’ve come to the right place.”
His eyes narrowed, “You being funny?”
Bad mistake to be sarcastic to him. He looked as if he’d knock me unconscious before I could stand up. “No.” I said hurriedly, “Who is it you want me to look for?”
He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a photograph. He looked at it for a few seconds, as if he had forgotten that he had intended to pass it over to me. Then realizing, he passed the photograph over the desk. It was of a girl, maybe 20, with blonde hair in a bathing suit. “She’s gone missing.” He said glumly.
“Right.” I said. “And when did you last she her?”
He tugged at an earlobe. “She used to write to me.”
“Well, when did she last write to you?”
He shrugged, “’Bout… three years ago…”
“You haven’t seen her in three years?”
“No.”
I leaned forward on the desk, “When did you start looking for her?”
“Last week.”
I nodded, “So why look for her now?”
“I’ve been away. Working.” He refused to make eye contact. He didn’t have to tell me the truth, he might as well had it stamped on his forehead- he’d been in jail. Big, tough guy like that, the suit he had might have fit him several years ago. Yes, he’d been in jail alright.
“Ok then. Where was she living when she last wrote to you?”
“Here. In London.”
“And in her last letter, did she perhaps, give an indication she might be moving, or not writing to you anymore?”
“No.” He said sharply. “She would’ve said if she didn’t want to speak to me anymore.”
“Ok. Tell me about her. Anything. I could use to find her.”
“Her name’s Bethany. I call her Kiki.” How he got ‘Kiki’ from ‘Bethany’ I couldn’t figure out. I thought it not best to question the logic. “She’s from Texas.”
“An American…”
“All Texans are American. I’m not thick.”
“No,” I said, “That’s a good thing. Yanks over here stick out like a sore thumb.”
“You think you can find her?”
I shrugged, “I’m not sure. It’s been three years. She could have gone back to America.”
“She wouldn’t have. She loves England.”
I nodded. “Fine. I’ll take it.”
His eyes lit up. “You’ll find her?”
“I’ll look. No promises.” For missing people I normally had the rule that after two weeks without a sign of them I gave up. I let him know the costs that my service would demand.
“I can pay.” He said firmly, “I have money.”
“Good.” I stood up and offered my hand.
“Thank you.” He said crushing my hand within an inch of its life.
“Come back in two weeks, Mr. Watson.”
“Just call me Bruce.”
I manoeuvred around my desk and got to the door and opened it for him. “Well… Bruce, good afternoon.”
“Goodbye.” He said and left. I went back to my desk and collapsed into my chair. This was going to be difficult.
“Please,” I said, “Sit down.” But I was a bit worried that the chair might break under his bulk.
“Thanks.” He said, but his voice didn’t match his looks, it was a little on the high pitched side.
“So, Mr…” I took a quick glance at the appointment note I’d made, “Watson. How can I help you.”“Well,” he started to play with his cotton cap, rolling it around his palms, “I’m looking for somebody… do you… look for people?”
“Congratulations, you’ve come to the right place.”
His eyes narrowed, “You being funny?”
Bad mistake to be sarcastic to him. He looked as if he’d knock me unconscious before I could stand up. “No.” I said hurriedly, “Who is it you want me to look for?”
He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a photograph. He looked at it for a few seconds, as if he had forgotten that he had intended to pass it over to me. Then realizing, he passed the photograph over the desk. It was of a girl, maybe 20, with blonde hair in a bathing suit. “She’s gone missing.” He said glumly.
“Right.” I said. “And when did you last she her?”
He tugged at an earlobe. “She used to write to me.”
“Well, when did she last write to you?”
He shrugged, “’Bout… three years ago…”
“You haven’t seen her in three years?”
“No.”
I leaned forward on the desk, “When did you start looking for her?”
“Last week.”
I nodded, “So why look for her now?”
“I’ve been away. Working.” He refused to make eye contact. He didn’t have to tell me the truth, he might as well had it stamped on his forehead- he’d been in jail. Big, tough guy like that, the suit he had might have fit him several years ago. Yes, he’d been in jail alright.
“Ok then. Where was she living when she last wrote to you?”
“Here. In London.”
“And in her last letter, did she perhaps, give an indication she might be moving, or not writing to you anymore?”
“No.” He said sharply. “She would’ve said if she didn’t want to speak to me anymore.”
“Ok. Tell me about her. Anything. I could use to find her.”
“Her name’s Bethany. I call her Kiki.” How he got ‘Kiki’ from ‘Bethany’ I couldn’t figure out. I thought it not best to question the logic. “She’s from Texas.”
“An American…”
“All Texans are American. I’m not thick.”
“No,” I said, “That’s a good thing. Yanks over here stick out like a sore thumb.”
“You think you can find her?”
I shrugged, “I’m not sure. It’s been three years. She could have gone back to America.”
“She wouldn’t have. She loves England.”
I nodded. “Fine. I’ll take it.”
His eyes lit up. “You’ll find her?”
“I’ll look. No promises.” For missing people I normally had the rule that after two weeks without a sign of them I gave up. I let him know the costs that my service would demand.
“I can pay.” He said firmly, “I have money.”
“Good.” I stood up and offered my hand.
“Thank you.” He said crushing my hand within an inch of its life.
“Come back in two weeks, Mr. Watson.”
“Just call me Bruce.”
I manoeuvred around my desk and got to the door and opened it for him. “Well… Bruce, good afternoon.”
“Goodbye.” He said and left. I went back to my desk and collapsed into my chair. This was going to be difficult.
I waited till it was late and I went down the road to the Victory Club. I went around the back and knocked at the door till Bill turned up. “Alright.” He said.
“Is she in?” I asked.
“Yeah, she’s not on till ten, but she’ll be in her dressing room.”
“Cheers, Bill.” I normally slipped him a fiver, but tonight I was a little low on funds. I went down the corridor till I reached the right door. I opened it and just walked right on in.
The woman inside turned around on her chair, but upon seeing me gave me a small smile. “Oh, it’s only you.”
I sat myself on the sofa in the corner of the dressing room, “Don’t sound so disappointed.” I took my fedora off and put it down next to me.
She turned around so she was looking into the mirror. She was applying her face before she went on stage. She was looking very good tonight. She had her blonde hair draped around her shoulders. She asked, “How’s work?”
“Not too bad,” I said. “I’ve got a new case to work on.”
“Anything exciting?”
“Not really. Just a missing persons.”
In a dry voice she said, “Positively thrilling.”
“It really is, Kiki.”
She spun around on her chair to face me, “What did you just call me?”
“Oh, nothing. Just a nickname I heard somewhere.” I leaned forward and rested my hands on my chin. “Now what part of America did you say you were from?”
She flashed me a wide smile, “You should know that one.”
“Indulge me.”
She turned back to the mirror. “Texas.”
“And if I ever asked you if you knew Bruce Watson you would say…”
In the mirror’s reflection I saw her smile falter. “Never heard of him.”
“That’s funny. This Bruce, he’s a big guy. Looks like he got stolen from the zoo as a child. Anyway, he turned up in my office today, says he’s looking for his ex.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He gave me a photo of her. Must have been about, say, 5 years old, but I’d recognize your face anywhere, Beth.”
“I told you, Jack. I’ve never heard of… what did you say his name was?”
“Bruce Watson. He’s really desperate to see his Kiki again. Am I right in thinking he just got out of jail?”
Her smile flashed bright in the mirrors reflection, “I have no idea what you are on about, you strange man.”
“Now, Beth, I don’t like turning away clients. It’s not exactly as if they’re battering down my door. Bruce really wants me to find his girl.”
“And will you?” She said in a quieter voice.
I shrugged and grinned at her, “Can’t say I’ve decided yet.”
“Well, when you do, just let me know.”
“He doesn’t seem like a nice sort of bloke at all. Bit rough. Not your type at all.”
She raised her eyebrows and said, “Oh yeah? And what is my type? Penniless detectives?”
“Private detective. And I’m not penniless.” I folded my arms, “I’m low on funds.”
“Same difference.”
“The question is, my dear, what do you want me to do about him?”
“Oh, let me guess, I pay you to get rid of him?”
“Now why should I suggest such a thing?”
She stood up and began to pace the room, “Because you’re low on funds?”
“Now, I could see Bruce in two weeks and tell him I haven’t found you. But, he’s most likely to hang around London, and, well, sod’s law dictates he‘ll probably see your show or something.”
“Or?” She said.
“Or, I could just tell him that I picked up a little bit of a trail in Scotland, but I’m not willing to touch it.”
She stood still, “Why Scotland?”
“Because if he thinks about looking for you it’s far enough away from here.”
“And if he doesn’t go?” In response to her question I could only shrug. So, she moaned. “Oh, you’re a great help.”
“Hey, I could have not told you and had Bruce turn up here instead!”
“How come you didn’t?”
I stood up, and said, “Guess I must like you. Why did you finish with him anyway?”
“Jail relationships aren’t my idea of fun.” She said.
“When you on tonight?”
“I go on at ten. You going to stick around?”
“Maybe. Depends. What you doing after you’ve performed?”
She returned to her make-up chair. “I’m going home.”
“Need an escort?”
“And how much would that cost me?”
“A cup of tea, maybe?”
She smiled, “What a shame- I have no money on me.”
I picked up my hat off the sofa. “Do I get a cup of tea if I get Bruce Watson out of the way?”
“Sure, Jack.”
I put my hat on and opened the door. “Goodnight, Beth.”
Without turning she said sweetly, “Goodnight, Jack.” I took that as my cue and left the same way I came in.
“Is she in?” I asked.
“Yeah, she’s not on till ten, but she’ll be in her dressing room.”
“Cheers, Bill.” I normally slipped him a fiver, but tonight I was a little low on funds. I went down the corridor till I reached the right door. I opened it and just walked right on in.
The woman inside turned around on her chair, but upon seeing me gave me a small smile. “Oh, it’s only you.”
I sat myself on the sofa in the corner of the dressing room, “Don’t sound so disappointed.” I took my fedora off and put it down next to me.
She turned around so she was looking into the mirror. She was applying her face before she went on stage. She was looking very good tonight. She had her blonde hair draped around her shoulders. She asked, “How’s work?”
“Not too bad,” I said. “I’ve got a new case to work on.”
“Anything exciting?”
“Not really. Just a missing persons.”
In a dry voice she said, “Positively thrilling.”
“It really is, Kiki.”
She spun around on her chair to face me, “What did you just call me?”
“Oh, nothing. Just a nickname I heard somewhere.” I leaned forward and rested my hands on my chin. “Now what part of America did you say you were from?”
She flashed me a wide smile, “You should know that one.”
“Indulge me.”
She turned back to the mirror. “Texas.”
“And if I ever asked you if you knew Bruce Watson you would say…”
In the mirror’s reflection I saw her smile falter. “Never heard of him.”
“That’s funny. This Bruce, he’s a big guy. Looks like he got stolen from the zoo as a child. Anyway, he turned up in my office today, says he’s looking for his ex.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He gave me a photo of her. Must have been about, say, 5 years old, but I’d recognize your face anywhere, Beth.”
“I told you, Jack. I’ve never heard of… what did you say his name was?”
“Bruce Watson. He’s really desperate to see his Kiki again. Am I right in thinking he just got out of jail?”
Her smile flashed bright in the mirrors reflection, “I have no idea what you are on about, you strange man.”
“Now, Beth, I don’t like turning away clients. It’s not exactly as if they’re battering down my door. Bruce really wants me to find his girl.”
“And will you?” She said in a quieter voice.
I shrugged and grinned at her, “Can’t say I’ve decided yet.”
“Well, when you do, just let me know.”
“He doesn’t seem like a nice sort of bloke at all. Bit rough. Not your type at all.”
She raised her eyebrows and said, “Oh yeah? And what is my type? Penniless detectives?”
“Private detective. And I’m not penniless.” I folded my arms, “I’m low on funds.”
“Same difference.”
“The question is, my dear, what do you want me to do about him?”
“Oh, let me guess, I pay you to get rid of him?”
“Now why should I suggest such a thing?”
She stood up and began to pace the room, “Because you’re low on funds?”
“Now, I could see Bruce in two weeks and tell him I haven’t found you. But, he’s most likely to hang around London, and, well, sod’s law dictates he‘ll probably see your show or something.”
“Or?” She said.
“Or, I could just tell him that I picked up a little bit of a trail in Scotland, but I’m not willing to touch it.”
She stood still, “Why Scotland?”
“Because if he thinks about looking for you it’s far enough away from here.”
“And if he doesn’t go?” In response to her question I could only shrug. So, she moaned. “Oh, you’re a great help.”
“Hey, I could have not told you and had Bruce turn up here instead!”
“How come you didn’t?”
I stood up, and said, “Guess I must like you. Why did you finish with him anyway?”
“Jail relationships aren’t my idea of fun.” She said.
“When you on tonight?”
“I go on at ten. You going to stick around?”
“Maybe. Depends. What you doing after you’ve performed?”
She returned to her make-up chair. “I’m going home.”
“Need an escort?”
“And how much would that cost me?”
“A cup of tea, maybe?”
She smiled, “What a shame- I have no money on me.”
I picked up my hat off the sofa. “Do I get a cup of tea if I get Bruce Watson out of the way?”
“Sure, Jack.”
I put my hat on and opened the door. “Goodnight, Beth.”
Without turning she said sweetly, “Goodnight, Jack.” I took that as my cue and left the same way I came in.
Wednesday 14 May 2008
Madness, Egos and One Big Inflatable Pig
Since lessons are over, here is your chance to learn something new. I present 'A Brief History of Pink Floyd'.
The band was started by four boys from Cambridge- Syd Barrett (vocals and guitar), Roger Waters (bass), Rick Wright (keyboards) and Nick Mason (drums). It all started in the late 60's, with the band quickly joining up with the psychedelic music scene. The band initially performed under the name 'The Pink Floyd Sound', but elected to drop the 'the' and the 'sound'. The principal song writer was Syd Barrett, who became renowned for his strange, psychedelic lyrics.
In 1967 the band released two hit singles 'Arnold Layne' and 'See Emily Play', with the latter one reaching the Top Ten. In the same year they released their album 'Piper At The Gates of Dawn', which is now viewed as a prime example of psychedelic music.
See Emily Play-
But with the psychedelic music scene came danger in the form of mind-altering drugs. Syd Barrett is known to have taken much LSD and weed during this time, and it became to have severe effects on his mental health. Barrett became increasingly erratic and unreliable, he would often go on stage and either play a completely different song, play only one note for the entire show, or just lie down and not play at all. It was decided to help Syd out to hire another guitarist, and after auditioning they chose David Gilmour. Sadly, even with the addition of Gilmour, Barrett was far too unreliable, so he was fired from the band. They released a second album, using as much workable material they had from Barrett.
1968-1972 was a period of experimentation for the new Pink Floyd. During Barrett's decline, the other band members began to try and write their own songs, often in the style of Syd Barrett. It was only after he was fired from the band the others began to really try and come into their own as songwriters. Vocal duties were primarily passed to David Gilmour, but Roger Waters and Rick Wright also began to sing tracks. They released three albums which were successful, but not exactly very big hits. The band were beginning to lose faith in what they were doing. It was under these pressures that Roger Waters came up with an idea.
Roger Waters wanted to write an album about the pressures of modern life, and he presented this idea for the band as 'Eclipse- A Piece For Assorted Lunatics'. The band allowed Waters to become the lyricist for this album, the first time there was one lyricist since Syd Barrett's era. The band began to put music to his words and performing in live. In 1973 they recorded the songs onto an album, and changed the title from 'Eclipse- A Piece For Assorted Lunatics' to 'Dark Side of the Moon'.
'Dark Side of the Moon' was a phenomenal success that the band could never have even imagined. It was a hit all around the world, a real first for the band. The single 'Money' was a huge hit in America, opening up the market for them across the water. So the band began touring across the world with their famous light shows.
Money-
In 1975 they came to record the follow up to 'Dark Side of the Moon'. Due to the success of that album, Waters elected to once again write all the lyrics. This album was born out of guilt- that Pink Floyd had become a success only with the departure of the founding member and guiding influence. The album 'Wish You Were Here' is an ode to their fallen band mate. But as members have commented later on it was with this album the cracks in the band began to show, as Waters began to take control and the other members just giving in. One member remarked years later "The album's title summed up how we felt- we wished we were there!"
Once again they began touring across the world, and in 1977 produced the album 'Animals', which is more famous for the iconic cover of the inflatable pig over Battersea Power Station. Having an inflatable pig over the audience became a staple of their live shows. All the touring was beginning to take it's toll, as the band in the early 70's were used to quiet, intimate venues were the audience would listen to the music, but now selling out stadiums and began screamed at to play their hits became to much for Waters. In a well documented event, a fan tried to climb on stage and Waters spat in his face. It was this that made Waters wonder how all these people had made him perform such an act. It was this incident that sparked the idea for the next album.
'The Wall' is a concept album which is told from the point of view of Pink, a troubled rock star sitting in an isolated hotel looking back over his life. Once again the lyrics were all Waters and almost all the music was as well. All the other band members have said this was Waters album through and through. There is much argument over Nick Mason, the drummer, as Waters claims it was a group decision to fire Mason, whilst the others claim Waters bullied them into it. Either, the drummer was sacked.
The album was huge success and spawned the Christmas No.1 'Another Brick In The Wall (Part 2)'. The band performed the album live, literally building a wall between themselves and the audience as Waters wished.
Another Brick In The Wall (Part Two)
In 1983 they recorded 'The Final Cut', which Gilmour describes as being "A Roger Waters solo album featuring Pink Floyd". The album used a familiar theme for Waters- war and loss, something that had affected him in his life. It was after this album, Roger Waters declared Pink Floyd defunct and left. David Gilmour and Rick Wright were not so sure, and decided to carry on the band. But Waters wasn't so pleased, he took the other to court, claiming that they couldn't carry on the Pink Floyd name without him. Gilmour and Wright refused this, so waters decided to sue them. Then what was brought into the equation was who came up with what, a main example being the big inflatable pig. Waters said they couldn't use it. They said fine. So instead they had a big inflatable pig, with a penis, just to make it different to Waters' big inflatable pig.
Five years after the previous album 'A Momentary Lapse of Reason' was released. Waters called in 'A fair forgery of Pink Floyd'. Then in 1994 Nick Mason rejoined the band and performed on the lasty album 'The Division Bell', which spawned the single 'High Hopes'. They band had finished it's run.
High Hopes
Then in 2005- there was Live 8, and the original members of Waters, Gilmour, Mason and Wright were asked to regroup for one nigh only. Reluctantly all four agreed, and on 2nd July they took to the stage once more a played a selection of their classics hits. Many have described their performance one of the highlights of the show.
Comfortably Numb (Live 8)
But, a Pink Floyd reunion is not on the cards, Gilmour described their Live 8 appearance akin to "sleeping with my ex-wife". Any reunion is highly unlike. In 2006, Syd Barrett passed away after many years of mental illness.
Pink Floyd's legacy still lives on today, with millions upon millions of copies of their albums sold.
The band was started by four boys from Cambridge- Syd Barrett (vocals and guitar), Roger Waters (bass), Rick Wright (keyboards) and Nick Mason (drums). It all started in the late 60's, with the band quickly joining up with the psychedelic music scene. The band initially performed under the name 'The Pink Floyd Sound', but elected to drop the 'the' and the 'sound'. The principal song writer was Syd Barrett, who became renowned for his strange, psychedelic lyrics.
In 1967 the band released two hit singles 'Arnold Layne' and 'See Emily Play', with the latter one reaching the Top Ten. In the same year they released their album 'Piper At The Gates of Dawn', which is now viewed as a prime example of psychedelic music.
See Emily Play-
But with the psychedelic music scene came danger in the form of mind-altering drugs. Syd Barrett is known to have taken much LSD and weed during this time, and it became to have severe effects on his mental health. Barrett became increasingly erratic and unreliable, he would often go on stage and either play a completely different song, play only one note for the entire show, or just lie down and not play at all. It was decided to help Syd out to hire another guitarist, and after auditioning they chose David Gilmour. Sadly, even with the addition of Gilmour, Barrett was far too unreliable, so he was fired from the band. They released a second album, using as much workable material they had from Barrett.
1968-1972 was a period of experimentation for the new Pink Floyd. During Barrett's decline, the other band members began to try and write their own songs, often in the style of Syd Barrett. It was only after he was fired from the band the others began to really try and come into their own as songwriters. Vocal duties were primarily passed to David Gilmour, but Roger Waters and Rick Wright also began to sing tracks. They released three albums which were successful, but not exactly very big hits. The band were beginning to lose faith in what they were doing. It was under these pressures that Roger Waters came up with an idea.
Roger Waters wanted to write an album about the pressures of modern life, and he presented this idea for the band as 'Eclipse- A Piece For Assorted Lunatics'. The band allowed Waters to become the lyricist for this album, the first time there was one lyricist since Syd Barrett's era. The band began to put music to his words and performing in live. In 1973 they recorded the songs onto an album, and changed the title from 'Eclipse- A Piece For Assorted Lunatics' to 'Dark Side of the Moon'.
'Dark Side of the Moon' was a phenomenal success that the band could never have even imagined. It was a hit all around the world, a real first for the band. The single 'Money' was a huge hit in America, opening up the market for them across the water. So the band began touring across the world with their famous light shows.
Money-
In 1975 they came to record the follow up to 'Dark Side of the Moon'. Due to the success of that album, Waters elected to once again write all the lyrics. This album was born out of guilt- that Pink Floyd had become a success only with the departure of the founding member and guiding influence. The album 'Wish You Were Here' is an ode to their fallen band mate. But as members have commented later on it was with this album the cracks in the band began to show, as Waters began to take control and the other members just giving in. One member remarked years later "The album's title summed up how we felt- we wished we were there!"
Once again they began touring across the world, and in 1977 produced the album 'Animals', which is more famous for the iconic cover of the inflatable pig over Battersea Power Station. Having an inflatable pig over the audience became a staple of their live shows. All the touring was beginning to take it's toll, as the band in the early 70's were used to quiet, intimate venues were the audience would listen to the music, but now selling out stadiums and began screamed at to play their hits became to much for Waters. In a well documented event, a fan tried to climb on stage and Waters spat in his face. It was this that made Waters wonder how all these people had made him perform such an act. It was this incident that sparked the idea for the next album.
'The Wall' is a concept album which is told from the point of view of Pink, a troubled rock star sitting in an isolated hotel looking back over his life. Once again the lyrics were all Waters and almost all the music was as well. All the other band members have said this was Waters album through and through. There is much argument over Nick Mason, the drummer, as Waters claims it was a group decision to fire Mason, whilst the others claim Waters bullied them into it. Either, the drummer was sacked.
The album was huge success and spawned the Christmas No.1 'Another Brick In The Wall (Part 2)'. The band performed the album live, literally building a wall between themselves and the audience as Waters wished.
Another Brick In The Wall (Part Two)
In 1983 they recorded 'The Final Cut', which Gilmour describes as being "A Roger Waters solo album featuring Pink Floyd". The album used a familiar theme for Waters- war and loss, something that had affected him in his life. It was after this album, Roger Waters declared Pink Floyd defunct and left. David Gilmour and Rick Wright were not so sure, and decided to carry on the band. But Waters wasn't so pleased, he took the other to court, claiming that they couldn't carry on the Pink Floyd name without him. Gilmour and Wright refused this, so waters decided to sue them. Then what was brought into the equation was who came up with what, a main example being the big inflatable pig. Waters said they couldn't use it. They said fine. So instead they had a big inflatable pig, with a penis, just to make it different to Waters' big inflatable pig.
Five years after the previous album 'A Momentary Lapse of Reason' was released. Waters called in 'A fair forgery of Pink Floyd'. Then in 1994 Nick Mason rejoined the band and performed on the lasty album 'The Division Bell', which spawned the single 'High Hopes'. They band had finished it's run.
High Hopes
Then in 2005- there was Live 8, and the original members of Waters, Gilmour, Mason and Wright were asked to regroup for one nigh only. Reluctantly all four agreed, and on 2nd July they took to the stage once more a played a selection of their classics hits. Many have described their performance one of the highlights of the show.
Comfortably Numb (Live 8)
But, a Pink Floyd reunion is not on the cards, Gilmour described their Live 8 appearance akin to "sleeping with my ex-wife". Any reunion is highly unlike. In 2006, Syd Barrett passed away after many years of mental illness.
Pink Floyd's legacy still lives on today, with millions upon millions of copies of their albums sold.
Tuesday 13 May 2008
10 Random Things I'd Like To Do Before I Die
Play Hamlet.
Lay flowers outside of the Dakota building
Meet David Bowie
Sing 'Fairytale of New York' for karaoke
Visit Berlin again
Listen to my vinyl of 'Dark Side of the Moon' by Pink Floyd on a proper record player
Publish something I've written
Cry at a movie
Watch all of 'The Seven Samurai'
See 'The Phantom of the Opera' on stage
Lay flowers outside of the Dakota building
Meet David Bowie
Sing 'Fairytale of New York' for karaoke
Visit Berlin again
Listen to my vinyl of 'Dark Side of the Moon' by Pink Floyd on a proper record player
Publish something I've written
Cry at a movie
Watch all of 'The Seven Samurai'
See 'The Phantom of the Opera' on stage
Tuesday 6 May 2008
"I Started At The Top And Worked My Way Down"
"I started at the top and worked my way down" is how Orson Welles describes his career in the movies, and today (6Th May) would have been his 93rd birthday if he were still alive today. I wanted to do this as a tribute to him as he is my hero.
There are many people I call 'heroes' and 'influences' and I probably used the two words far too much, but in the case of Orson Welles I mean every syllable of it. My first encounter with Welles was watching 'the Transformers' movie in which Welles does one of the voices, and ironically, it was his final performance that I should see first. I am too young to remember what the film was about (other than robots in disguise) but I do remember watching it. I only really became aware of Orson Welles as my deep passion for movies started up in my early teens, and of course Welles and 'Citizen Kane' is hard to avoid if you're a fan of films. But my curiosity really got started when I was compared to Welles, because I had acted in, written and directed a play for school, and I of course was immensely proud and still riding on my sense of pride years on (it was only last year I dsicoverd that at the age I had done that play was the same age Welles acted, directed and wrote his school play). I watched the great film 'The Third Man; which Welles only appears for 10 minutes but walks away with the film in the pocket. The (arguably) most memorable moment of the film is where Welles's character Harry Lime gives, and his performance is made all the more impressive when it is know that Welles wrote the speech himself-
Welles's name was always in the background, as I said for a classic film fan it's hard to ignore. Then when i was 16 I watched 'Citizen Kane'. To say how it felt is to borrow what Bruce Springsteen said about Bob Dylan's 'Like A Rolling Stone': "Somebody kicked the door open to your kind." Even though I couldn't view it as 1941 audiences would have viewed it, I knew this film was special It wasn't special it was.... 'Citizen Kane'. For me every myth and rumour about that film's greatest was true. Every time I see it I still find something new in it. What Welles did in 1941 was take the rulebook on how direct a film then tear it up and rewrite it. It's only when you see 'Citizen Kane' you can see how all the Spielberg's and Scorsese's have been influenced. For me there will never be any movie like 'Citizen Kane' that has had such resonance and impact, but still be a damn watchable film.
There are many people I call 'heroes' and 'influences' and I probably used the two words far too much, but in the case of Orson Welles I mean every syllable of it. My first encounter with Welles was watching 'the Transformers' movie in which Welles does one of the voices, and ironically, it was his final performance that I should see first. I am too young to remember what the film was about (other than robots in disguise) but I do remember watching it. I only really became aware of Orson Welles as my deep passion for movies started up in my early teens, and of course Welles and 'Citizen Kane' is hard to avoid if you're a fan of films. But my curiosity really got started when I was compared to Welles, because I had acted in, written and directed a play for school, and I of course was immensely proud and still riding on my sense of pride years on (it was only last year I dsicoverd that at the age I had done that play was the same age Welles acted, directed and wrote his school play). I watched the great film 'The Third Man; which Welles only appears for 10 minutes but walks away with the film in the pocket. The (arguably) most memorable moment of the film is where Welles's character Harry Lime gives, and his performance is made all the more impressive when it is know that Welles wrote the speech himself-
Welles's name was always in the background, as I said for a classic film fan it's hard to ignore. Then when i was 16 I watched 'Citizen Kane'. To say how it felt is to borrow what Bruce Springsteen said about Bob Dylan's 'Like A Rolling Stone': "Somebody kicked the door open to your kind." Even though I couldn't view it as 1941 audiences would have viewed it, I knew this film was special It wasn't special it was.... 'Citizen Kane'. For me every myth and rumour about that film's greatest was true. Every time I see it I still find something new in it. What Welles did in 1941 was take the rulebook on how direct a film then tear it up and rewrite it. It's only when you see 'Citizen Kane' you can see how all the Spielberg's and Scorsese's have been influenced. For me there will never be any movie like 'Citizen Kane' that has had such resonance and impact, but still be a damn watchable film.
It cannot be avoided that Orson Welles had the voice. Perfectly suited to radio and theatre, it was a tragedy that as his career slided his voice was reduced to advertising frozen peas. It was distinctive andlistenable. The only other vocie that comes close to it is Richard Burton (but that's another debate for another day.)
It would be a lie to say I would be nothing without Orson Welles and 'Citizen Kane', but it's true to say that I certainly wouldn't be the same person.
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