On the writing front, in the midst of another short which is a dark, sexy, part contemporary, part-Victorian love story with a twist. About to start work on an adapted screenplay from a scottish novel I love, and am wading through a proper first draft of a feature I started last year – it has potential but the tone is all over the place.
The short I’m making, has had the pre-greenlight regarding script, so now just to get a good team together and get it made… yeah ‘just’… exciting though!
The Victorian comes from this place:
Perhaps there will be a thunderbolt of calling,
a something impressive that can’t be denied,
because if it isn’t so then it may just quietly slip disappeared into the background where we let it die until we’re breathing our last and we once again wish to recall the fury and burst of that feeling,
that impressive flash of hot and woozy sense, that instant radiating trumpet-call,
that messy disorganised throbbing and beating,
that love, that lust, the undisciplised, uncontrollable thrust from deep down hidden right there beneath the veneer of respectability that coats us,
but chip it away and we’re all seeking that warm, wet place of corruption and satisfaction.
We are meant to be joined, so they say, but gingerly and in an ordered fashion.
My body doesn’t work that way, it’s not programmed to listen to the confines you utter.
It’s following the beat of a heart and the pull of your blood-noise.
It will follow as long as your nerves crack and skin glows.
I will follow and see you out until the last breath.
You are corruptible.
I am unstoppable.