Monday 28 November 2011

The Woodburner, Electricity and the loo will have to wait

All trumped by the need for transport.

Since the family moved over the river the cottage is one to one-and-a-half
walk from the bus
stop/shop/shower/baby-sitting/nice-cup-of-tea-and-recharge-the-laptop-while-sending-email.

And the landrover I borrow from time to time is heading west.

So - the next BIG expense is a road-legal quad bike.

Which (let's face it) is MUCH MORE FUN!

Dear Family: I love you, but...

... if you call me at 7.05am on a monday morning for a "chat", and don't pick
up the "It's lovely but it's not a good time..." hint, while I try to wrangle
my knickers on onehanded, well, then:

I DON'T get to dry my hair - I DO get to travel to work, in November, with wet
hair and the start of a chill headache;

I DON'T get a seat on the 7.15 train - I DO get to stand on the 7.55 train
with my nose in someones armpit;

I DON'T get an hour of writing done before work - I DO get to rush into work 5
minutes late (and with wet hair);

I DON'T get to check my bag before I run out of the house - I DO manage to
leave without my purse, and therefore without breakfast*. Or Lunch. Or Tea.
Or, even (as the fridge is empty after my weekend away) Dinner.

It's my fault. We should talk more often.
I must arrange proper call times for catch up chats.
But not at 7.05am on a Monday morning.
Please.

(Thank you the lovely man in the new coffee shop made me cappuccino anyway. I
love you and I will buy coffee from you every monday for at least a year)

Saturday 26 November 2011

Upgrading the Writers' Cottage

Having finally solved the damp, with the combination of the solar dehumidifier
(still going strong) and an annual ditch clearing party with beer and BBQ (a
new addition to the social whirl that is Easter) it's time to move on to the
next BIG improvement to the cottage.

At the moment it is my (almost) ideal writing spot. No neighbours, no
internet, no 21st century chores. Just a warm bed, a big chair, a small fire
and a pot of coffee sitting on the hearth.

But it is a bit tough on visitors, and almost impossible to imagine lending to
other writers, even those who want to try a "Walden Pond" experience for a
short while.

The biggest issues are-

Electricity: I don't need it for lights, or refrigeration, or entertainment.
But I do need to juggle the laptop batteries,and even then have to take a
recharging break every 2 days. I rely on neighbours who don't mind that I
plug-in while babysitting or drinking tea, but that's not really an option for
the average writer with the average battery time plus mobile phone, etc.

Heat: I have a small open fire, built into the redundant hulk of the 1859
kitchen range, supplemented in the winter but two calor-gar heaters. Most of
the heat generated goes straight up the chimney, and the fire is too small to
heat the whole building or to keep a fire "in" overnight or while taking a
walk. It's an inefficient use of fuel (wood - bought and collected), and I
spend most of the winter with my toes on the grate, wrapped in a shawl.

Plumbing: There is none. I have a spring fed cold water tap in the
larder/scullery. Hot water means a kettle. That I can live with. But the loo
is an issue. If I am in the cottage for less than 24 hours - I dig a hole in
the woods. Longer than that, and I set up the folding composting loo, which
works well, and is perfectly hygienic, but is aesthetically challenging.

So, these are my choices for the next upgrade.

My choices are:

a.) a wind turbine - cost about £400
I've seen a turbine that works like one of those whirling signs you see
outside newsagents - it's compact and can be folded away if the noise is
excessive. I'd need to get cabling, a deep cycle battery and an inverter as
well, and experiment with the best way to set it up - but I confess, the
pleasure of trolling up for a weekend and knowing I'll have always have enough
juice stored up to run the laptop/phone/DVD/radio/charge the LED lights would
be, well, game-changing.

b.) a woodburning stove - cost around £1000
I'm thinking of installing this in the alcove next to the fire (currently a
cupboard with a stone floor) and running a flue up through the bedroom and out
of the roof, rather than trying to squeeze a small stove into the existing
tiny fire space. That way I can have the advantage of economic heat in both
rooms and the option of an occasional small fire for cooking, making toast and
indulging my pyromania from time to time.

c.) a composting loo
This is the big spend: I know the lo-tech version of the "seperett" system
works; as the name suggests it eaily and hygienically separates the, umm,
products, into wet and dry, and then composts them using different methods,
well out of sight. It is easy to use, easy to clean, and while the camping
version is a bit challenging for the casual visitor, the upgraded version,
powered by a solar panel, looks and feels, to all intents and purposes, like a
conventional plumbed in loo.
The loo itself is only £500 - but there is no point in upgrading without
replacing (repairing) the combined outhouse/porch in which it would be
installed, as the original structure is on the point of falling down. And as
the cottage is some distance from the road, that means co-ordinating
materials, builder and transport, in the summer, when the ground is dry enough
to bring up a 4 wheel drive.
And then it would make sense to also upgrade to a tiled floor, and to put in a
small cold water sink.
But that feels like a HUGE undertaking right now.

--
Tanya Lees
Holdfastfilms

--
Mail created using EssentialPIM Free - www.essentialpim.com

Ha! On my way to my sister's for my birthday and she's (sort of) forgotten I'm coming!

Actually she forgot that she arranged to take the family out all day, so she's
left a key and instructions to buy a chicken.

So - no excuse for not writing this afternoon!

Wednesday 23 November 2011

Procrastinatin' in Caffe Nero....

It's not as if I have a script to write or anyfink like that, is it? Oh,
wait....

I'll stick it out for a while longer, then go an procrastinate at home. It's
warmer there.

Tuesday 22 November 2011

Despicable me and Berlin

I just love being mean to my poor characters.

I just sat down for an hour in Somerset House - skaters zooming past the
window - and brainstormed another 50 things that could go wrong for my lead.

Before I even started he was orphaned, impoverished, exiled, alone and hanging
from his fingertips over a snake-infested haunted listening to the lions roar
in the desert.

And then I made it even worse for the poor sod. Fifty thing, including
Typhoid and/or the day of Judgement and all the fire of hell.

Job well done.

Now I have start concentrating on accreditation for the Berlin Film Festival.
Confession: I've never actually bothered to accredit before, just turned up
and blagged my way into parties. There is public access to so much of the
festival, to the shuttles, to the hotels, to the screenings, to the QandAs, to
the bars. Only the market building itself is off limits, and that has limited
appeal anyway, as long as you have contacts inside to score the party tickets.

Sunday 20 November 2011

Ugly writing is a beautiful thing

I've just spent the afternoon powering through the 2nd Act of the script in as
deliberately ugly and awkward a way as possible, in preparation for a 4th
draft

The temptation to write beautifully is a terrible curse. You get instant
acclaim, and it certainly helps to sell an idea,but its all to easy use the
elegant handwaving to obscure grotty holes in the structure.

It reminds me of the life-classes I did in the art room at school; I always
got high marks despite appalling draftsmanship because I polished the product
up so nicely that who cared the models elbow was in the wrong place.

Now I am resisting all my instincts to make the prose I am writing atractive.
It's just bits of old words flung together and held up with string and gaffer
tape. Without the glamour and the polish and the handwaving only one thing
will make the story still stay up.

The truth.

If it's true, then it will still be standing tomorrow.

If not - well, I just have to pull it apart and stick it together again, until
it does stand up.

And that will, belatedly, be far more satisfying.

+++++

In other news - I just slid past the bread department at Waitrose and scored
£13.00 worth of poilane for - wait for it - £1.16.

Sourdough, walnut, rye - It will all go in the freezer and come out a slice at
a time for toasting.

I love Sunday nights at Waitrose.

Saturday 19 November 2011

Woah!

How did I get to 7pm in one fell swoop!

That day just zippppppppppped past.

S by S East



Europe - 1955

Harry Martin has been set up.

An innocent aboard, a loud, but charming American tourist, is approached in a restaurant by a young woman in distress. By dawn he is on the run, carrying a package of nuclear secrets that at least five different people wish to kill him for.

But Harry is not quite what he seems: to survive he is forced to draw on memories of past he hoped he had escaped for ever - as a teenage grifter and runner for the mob. The hard won skills of his childhood - and an unlikely alliance with a KGB assassin - are the only things keeping him alive.

Drama - 90 minutes.



Friday 18 November 2011

At BAFTA last night to see a screening of As If I am Not Here followed by Q&A with director Juanita Wilson

Screening half full, which surprised me. The subject matter is harrowing (the film is a dramtisation of Slavenka Drakulic's novel set in a women's prison camp in Bosnia in 1992) but the film itself is both beautiful and terrible (in the original sense of the word), without a single duff choice in script, casting or direction.

It was good to be reminded that there is nothing so horrific in human experience that we can not look at it, if - and it is a big 'if@ - we are guided to the right vantage point.

Wilson's achievement is all the greater in that she was working in Macedonia, with Macedonian crew and extras and Serbian and Bosnian leads, with very little in the way of shared language.

As If I Am Not Here already has a slew of well-deserved awards, and will undoubtedly collect more in the months to come.

Thursday 10 November 2011

T'sion


T'sion - the Ark of the Covenant, palpable evidence of a God's promise to Man - and gift to Ethiopia.

In Berlin, 1947, Mikael Desta, an African war hero, battles the ingrained racism of his European allies to win the extradition of Paul Arendt, who seven years earlier, in occupied Ethiopia, tortured and killed Mikael's lover. 

His goal is not only justice for the murdered woman, but the possession of evidence which he hopes will document other fascist atrocities in his home land.

The unexpected reappearance of a woman claiming to be Paul's victim, Lily, throws an uncomfortable new light on events in Ethiopia in 1939-40 and Mikael's own complicity in the massacre which brought these three individuals together and led to Lily's disappearance from History..

"When I was cast in the pit I pondered over the folly of the Kings of the World, and I asked, ,in what doth the greatness of kings consist? Is it in the multitude of soldiers, or in the splendour of worldly possessions, or in extent of rule over cities and towns? 


In development with Corazon Films UK and 27 Films, Berlin


For more information: tanya.lees@holdfastfilms.com