Writersbloc.co.uk

After the bluster and introspection of the last post, I think I’ll return to normal writersbloc service by posting some links and stuff.

First of all we have Kevin Smith, writer extraordinaire and um, average director.  There’s a series of videos of him on Youtube where he’s asked about a wide range of topics; his creative process, how he views his own work and what he thinks about the internet.  Smith is a compelling speaker, so I’d highly recommend you taking the time to watch.  The language is NSFW and he’s funny as hell.

Where the Wild Things Are is apparently a pretty famous kids book.  I’m never going to read it, but I’m really, really excited about the movie that they’re making about it.  Why?  Because it’s directed by Spike Jonze, who is awesome.  And the screenplay is by Dave Eggers, who is awesome.  And the soundtrack features a kick-ass version of Wake Up by Arcade Fire, which is also awesome.  Join me in my geeky droolfest by watching the trailer here. The Guardian also wrote a little bit about it.

While we’re talking about  Mr Eggers, he’s also written another movie with his wife that’s being directed by Sam Mendes (who directed American Beauty) called Away We Go.  It also looks amazing - check out the trailer for yourself here.

Some bands that you should listen to:  Russian Red, Great Bloomers, Howie Beck, Joel Plaskett, White Denim, The Lisps, The Antlers,  The Naked Hearts and La Strada.  Some of the bands are Canadian and a bit average (Joel Plaskett, Great Bloomers and Howie Beck) but all are good enough to be worth checking out.

That’ll do for now.  It’s a beautiful day here in Toronto and I’ve got my first day off in a while.  This afternoon will be spent working on the screenplay and kicking a ball around the park.  If you liked some of these links, I’ll be tagging stuff and adding them to my delicious account on a nearly daily basis.  You can subscribe to the RSS feed here, or check out the page directly here.

[A warning before you begin reading: this post is introspective, honest and generally rambles on a fair bit. That’s because I’m really writing this for my own benefit, rather than for any value that you, the reader, might gain. I’m not saying that you won’t find it interesting or useful, but if you get through the 1200+ words and wish you hadn’t, don’t say you weren’t warned. Anyway, let’s get started, shall we?]

Of all my supposed strengths, I’d say that I have a particular knack for helping other people unblock themselves and truly believe that they’re capable of achieving what they want in life.  I can talk all day about how you don’t need anyone’s permission to do what you want, and detailing how the internet is allowing people to thrive in ways that my parents couldn’t even imagine 25 years ago.

That said, if my last post is proof of anything, it’s that I can be too idealistic at times, and not sympathetic enough to how ridiculously hard it can be to truly believe that you’re as awesome as you really are.  It breaks my heart when Lis is down on herself and kicking her own ass because I truly believe she’s a great writer.  I don’t say that just because she links to here every now and again and I met her once for a coffee.  Read her stuff.  She’s waaay better than I’ll ever be.  But simply saying that she should just get herself out there and kick ass isn’t enough - it’s too simplistic.  I don’t know what it’ll take for Lis to get to where she wants to be, but I’m glad she’s writing more blog posts now than she did a few months ago.

Of course, my advice is by and large useless.  I’m what is commonly known as an armchair quarterback.  I sit back and tell people how to do stuff better without actually getting my hands dirty.  I talk about how tv shows and newspapers and books and music sucks, without creating anything myself.  No-one should really listen to anything I have to say for anything more than entertainment value.  I tell writers and artists how they can get their work seen and appreciated without doing any of it myself.

As you might have guessed, I’ve been thinking about this a lot.  Given the name of the site, the fact that I’ve been blocked for months now is frighteningly appropriate.

I can’t write because I don’t have an apartment.  I can’t write because I’ve just moved into an apartment.  I can’t write because I don’t have a job.  I can’t write because I’m working too much.  I can’t write because I don’t have a desk.  I can’t write because my computer isn’t hooked up to the internet.  I can’t write because my computer is hooked up to the internet and I keep getting distracted.  All of these are bullshit excuses that I tell myself to make me feel better about the simple fact that I’m a writer that doesn’t write.

I’ve never hid my respect for  Charlie Hoehn.  It’s because he writes stuff like this:

“You will become known for doing what you do. This may sound obvious, but it is a useful thing to realize. Many people seem to think they must endure a “rite of passage” which, once passed, will allow them to do the kind of work they want to do. Then they end up disappointed that this day never comes. Find a way to do the work you want to do, even if it means working nights and weekends. Once you’ve done a handful of excellent things in a given way, you will become known as the person who does excellent things in that given way. And that’s the person you want to be, because then people will hire you to be that person.”

It’s a pretty simple point but I forget it too often.  When people ask what I do, I tell them that I write about music, because that’s what I did 6 months ago.  To put it in perspective, I wrote two articles for NME, about 10 news stories and 20 blog posts.  I made a grand total of £110 from NME over the course of my time with them.  I’m not a music journalist - I’m barely a music blogger (although it is making me laugh that in the space of a year, the job that I was doing for them is now only available if you win a contest) so telling people that I write about music is simply dishonest.

So if I’m not a music writer, what am I?

I’m a blogger - I can say that with relative authority.  This site has been up for years, and I’ve written hundreds of posts (more than 640, apparently).  That ain’t gonna pay the bills or impress the ladies, though.

I’m an internet marketer.  Maybe.  I’ve worked for Strathclyde Union and King of Shaves, so I guess I could call myself that.  I don’t work for either of those companies now, so maybe not.

I’m a bartender.  Yeah, I’ve done that for 9 years, so I can call myself a bartender.  I also work in Starbucks as a barista.  So I’m a 27 year old bartender/barista.  With two university degrees.  Remember when I talked about being remarkable? I’m not feeling particularly remarkable now.

All that said, my eternal optimism will continue to shine through.  I believe I can turn this around.  Yeah, I have no money and I’m working a shitty minimum wage job, but it doesn’t stop all of the other stuff I talk about being true.  The internet means that I have the tools and the opportunity to make a success of myself.  I can make the conscious choice to be a writer that writes.  To be someone who leads by example rather than judges from the touchline.  To be as good as everyone keeps telling me I can be.  As with everything in my life, it’ll start with a list.  The beginning will come by thinking about where I want to be and taking positive action to get there. Step one leads to step two.

From today, I will write every day, no matter where I am or what my circumstances are.  You don’t need a computer to be creative.  You don’t need a desk or coffee or any of the other stuff.  You need a piece of paper, and a pen.  I have both.  Yeah, the other stuff is nice, but it’s all far from necessary.  Because the barriers to entry to the creative industries are disappearing, these other things are useful to distract people from the simplicity of the action of writing.  I have a little voice in my head (and I mean that in the least insane way possible):

“You can’t be a writer, you need to have a space that allows you to be creative.  You need to be like the writers in the movies or on tv.  You need to buy into the romantic ideal of the frustrated or blocked writer.  It’s okay to call yourself a writer without actually producing anything.  It happens to us all.”

Today, I call bullshit.  Today, I admit to my weaknesses and expose my lies and delusions for what they are.  Today, I commit myself to action rather than just hollow words and sentiment.

I’ve talked about the value of having someone to kick you in the ass when you venture off your path, but that isn’t worth anything if you’re not willing to take responsibility for your own actions.  Enough is enough.

Today I will write. And I will tomorrow, until it is done.

There’s a story in Steven Pressfield’s book, The War of Art, where he talks about when he was writing his first novel.  I’m sketchy on the details, so forgive me if I get them wrong. Writing the book took him years of hard graft, misery and poverty.  He was living in a van in a trailer park somewhere, and had a mentor who was a writer who lived nearby.  On the night that he finished the book, he was filled with a massive sense of accomplishment and walked over to his mentor’s place for a drink to celebrate.  The mentor said “Congratulations.  Start your next book tomorrow”.

If you’re a writer, it should never end.  If you’re a writer, you have to start sometime.  I’ve always said that I’ll write tomorrow, I’ve just not been very good at writing today.

This is one of the first posts that I’ve ever written where I’ve clearly thought from the offset that I should write a disclaimer at the top:

WARNING: This post contains advice that I don’t necessarily follow myself, because I’m an idiot.  This does not mean that the advice is contains any less truth.  Just sayin’.

I’ve been meaning to write a blog post for a few days now (it’s been a while) but I’ve been unsure as to what to say.  It’s a recurring theme, and I haven’t quite gotten past my mental block labelled “YOU START WRITING WITHOUT AN IDEA OF WHERE YOU’RE GOING”.  Today, however, two women have prodded my brain in the same way, and it seemed only right that I write about it for the benefit of the internets at large.  Who knows, the act of writing might actually kick me into taking my own advice.

Lis wrote a bl0g post today, which was awesome and thoughtful and rambling and the tiniest bit lost and sad.  As soon as I read it I wanted to leave a comment or email her, but I figure that this is the next best thing.  There was one part in particular that caught my eye.

I used to be able to look people in the eye and say, proudly, that I was a journalist but I’m not entirely sure what I am anymore and the “credit crunch” seems to have put paid to the possibility of anything I want to be. Sometimes I’m happy enough to sit tight and be grateful for what I have, but more often than not these days I feel a deep-rooted discontent.

…

I still feel as if the only thing I want to do is write. I think I’d like to be a travel writer since I couldn’t support myself on music journalism, but it all comes out more like Kerouac than The Holiday Show and I’d rather write in this blog than have people pay me for it. Sometimes I wonder if that, too, was more fun when it was just me: I never expected to be universally liked, but ten years is a long time to be doing anything and I’m a little set in my ways.

If you take the time to read that post you’ll clearly see that Lis is an incredibly talented writer, and it makes me sad that this is the way she’s feeling.  All is not lost, however, because there’s one thing that I’ve been saying over and over again - there has never been a better time to be creative and make a living from it.  Ever.  The assertion that Lis makes (that she can’t support herself on music journalism) is just plain wrong.

In the creative industries - in fact, in any industry - power has always been held by those that controlled the distribution.  There’s no point in making something if you can’t move it to someone who wants to buy it.  King Of Shaves wouldn’t have become so popular if Will King hadn’t convinced Harrods to carry his shaving oil.  The Beatles wouldn’t have gotten anywhere further than Liverpool if record executives hadn’t been able to put their records on the shelves, or if TV executives hadn’t exposed them to such a massive audience.  It’s the distribution that’s always been key.  Bands have always wanted recording contracts.  Writers have always wanted book deals.  Fashion designers have wanted stores to stock their lines.  By now you should realise that this just isn’t true any more.  Power is slipping away from those who control the distribution to those who create. 

You need some examples?  What about machinima?  To get your tv show made 10 years ago, you had to jump through 101 hoops just to get the opportunity to make a pilot.  Now writers can use computer games to act out their scripts.  Red vs Blue is distributed via a youtube channel (which is free) and they make money by selling the box sets of the DVDs.  The writers control the creative direction of the show (without any interference) and they make the vast majority of the cash.  It doesn’t hurt that the show is pretty funny, and ever so slightly geeky.  Okay, it’s really geeky, but these guys didn’t need anyone’s permission to make their show, they just did it.

There’s more than enough stories of musicians that have made their music freely available via the internet without me having to google search for them.  I think the music industry is beyond the point where anyone can deny that the power lies with the artist.  Yeah, the record industry is doing all it can to try and preserve the status quo, but they’re clearly fighting a losing battle.  There’s nothing stopping anyone from recording their music onto their computer, mixing it and making it freely available (or even selling it on iTunes and making yourself some cash). 

I was talking to my friend Holly today, and she was bemoaning the fact that she had to do a shitty job to pay rent, when  she’d rather be making clothes.  She’d given some dresses to a couple of vintage fashion stores, they’d sold reasonably well, but she didn’t make much money from it.  She was effectively waiting for someone’s permission for her to be creative.  It’s never going to come.

No-one is going to come and tell me or Holly or Lis that it’s okay for us to create something and guarantee that we’ll make money.  Life isn’t like that.  The important thing where we’re concerned is that we’re all talking about something that we need to create anyway.  Lis writes every day without getting paid for it.  Holly creates fashion every day without thought of payment.  It’s just what they do.  Financial considerations don’t come into it.  The funny thing is that I’m willing to bet that if both Lis and Holly can make a good living from their art.  Not just make ends meet, actually have a comfortable living.  If the art is good enough, the money will follow.

It’s been over 18 months since I last had conventional employment.  I worked as an internet marketer, a music journalist and a pub quizmaster.  If I can get paid as a music journalist, then I’m sure that Lis can.  She’s a better writer than I am, particularly when it comes to music.  I decided a while back that I don’t want to write about music, but if I had decided to go the other way, here’s what I would’ve done:

1.  Introduced myself to as many bookers and promoters in Glasgow as I possibly can, identifying myself as a music writer.

2.  Cover at least three shows a week - none of which I’d pay to go to - and make sure that each and every one goes on my blog and has as many links within them as possible.  I’d push the articles on myspace and diggit and facebook and bebo and twitter and any other social networking site I can get my hands on.  I’d interview bands and get them to link to my articles on their myspace pages.  I’d focus on keeping the quality of writing high and trying to spread my work as far and as wide as possible. 

3.  I’d make contact with various record companies, and ask about up and coming acts that they’re looking to get press coverage for.  The biggest fee I’ve gotten for any work that I have done is the article about the Postelles.  The only reason I knew about the band (or that they were releasing a single that was produced by Albert Hammond Jr) was because the guitarist emailed me after reading my NME blog.  A record executive emailed me last week to ask me to interview a band that he just signed from Glasgow.  The opportunities are there.

4.  After three months I would have an extensive network stretching across the whole music industry, both across Glasgow and the UK as a whole.  My name would be well known in the city and I’d have a portfolio of work to cherry pick my best stuff from.  At that point it can go one of two ways - I would either approach different newspapers and magazines for freelance work, or look to different blogs and see if they’re looking for staff writers in paid positions.  Hell, you could do both.

The problem with those four steps is that it’s difficult, time consuming and hard work.  But it’s do-able. 

At this point it’s worth referring back to my disclaimer.  At the moment I’m unemployed, and I’m not working toward any point at which I’ll be paid to write, simply because I’m not creating anything right now.  I can reel off a bunch of excuses but the fact is that I’ve been lazy and haven’t been hungry enough.  I don’t take my own advice.  I’m pretty stupid.

Life as a struggling artist is hard, but in my not-so-humble opinion it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.  If you tag yourself as one, you’ll inevitably never make enough to put food on the table.   Of course, there’s no guarantee that you even want to get paid to write or paint or sew.  You could be quite happy just creating, and that could be enough.  All I’m saying is that if you want to make money, you can.  You just have to believe that you deserve it.  You have to believe that what you’re creating is good enough and is worth paying for.  Having read Lis’ writing for the last two and a half years, I know that she’s got talent to spare.  Time will tell if the money will follow.

10.  NCIS

TONY

Uhm, boss, we need to find out who killed that guy.

ZIVA

Stop looking at my breasts or I’ll break your neck.

GIBBS

Goddammit, Tony, why do I have to do everything myself?

DUCKY limps into the office brandishing a piece of paper.

DUCKY

Oh, by the way, I was being eccentric and British earlier and I found this piece of evidence that might help.

MCGEE (sweating profusely)

If only we could use some outlandish technology to help us work out what it all means!

ABBY

Well, I could hack into an all-powerful mainframe computer and use video cameras in ways that defy the laws of physics and gravity, if you want?  I need to listen to Fallout Boy while I do it, though.

ABBY reveals who committed the murder.

MCGEE

Wow, it was that guy all along!

GIBBS, MCGEE and TONY leave to apprehend the suspect.  A gunfight ensues, and both narrowly escape death/minor injury.  MCGEE sweats profusely.

GIBBS

I hate you all.

9.  24

JACK shoots TERRORIST 1 in the face, whilst simultaneously breaking TERRORIST 2’s neck.

JACK

GIVE ME THE INFORMATION THAT I NEED!

TERRORIST 3 reveals important plot information.  Cliffhanger ensues.

8.  American Idol

RYAN SEACREST

WELCOME  (insert pause for effect) to AMERICAN IDOL.

BOB is introduced as being crazy and desperate.  BOB sings, then waits for the judges’ verdicts.

PAULA twitches, RANDY tries and fails to hide laughter while KARA tries to look interested.  SIMON makes a dismissive wanking motion with his hand.

RANDY

Sup, dawg?  I’m feelin’ your performance, but you’re just not good enough.

SIMON

I have no idea why you’re wasting your time here.  Just give up.  If singing is your life’s purpose, then you might as well do us all a favour and kill yourself.

BOB

You guys clearly wouldn’t know talent if it bit you in the ass.  I HATE YOU SIMON!  WHY WON’T YOU VALIDATE ME!?!

BOB runs sobbing from the room, and is comforted by RYAN SEACREST.

7.  More AMERICAN IDOL

RYAN SEACREST

WELCOME  (insert pause for effect) to AMERICAN IDOL.

SALLY is introduced.  Her heartbreaking story where she fought cancer/her dog died/she fought racism/survived Katrina is shared with the world.  A montage of photographs from when SALLY was a child is shown, and we’re told that she’s been singing non-stop since she was 2 years old.

SALLY sings.  PAULA and KARA weep.  RANDY nods while SIMON smiles.

SIMON

Thank God people like you exist, Sally.  Seriously, if I had to sit through nothing but the delusional morons that we get 95% of the time, I’d kill myself.  It’s bad enough having to sit beside Paula for 6 hours a day without having to put up with the dreadful wail that the majority come out with.  Thank you for preserving my sanity.  You can go to Hollywood.

RANDY (punching the air)

YEAH!  You’re going to HOLLYWOOOOOOOD baaaaayyybeee!

PAULA (Sniffing and wiping her eyes)

*incomprehensible babble*

6.  (Are you f****ng kidding me?) American Idol

RYAN SEACREST

WELCOME  (insert pause for effect) to AMERICAN IDOL.

The contestants that aren’t completely tone deaf have progressed to a ‘boot camp’ in Hollywood.  We are reminded of various heartfelt stories of triumph over adversity before each contestant sings.

TIM

I’ve overcome cancer and being born with three legs to get here, but this is truly the biggest challenge I’ve ever faced in my life.  If I don’t get into the last 12, I don’t know what I’d do.  I’ll probably just stop breathing.

TIM sings, but cracks under the pressure of having to remember all the lyrics to a song.  He rushes off stage crying, PAULA and RANDY look shocked, SIMON rolls his eyes and goes back to counting his money pile.

*****

You can read the Top 5 here.

5.  Superbowl Pre-game

SAM

Welcome to Superbowl XXLVIIII, I’m your host Sam Winchester, and I’m here with NFL legend Bob “The Dishwasher” Sacremento!  This truly will be the greatest sporting event in the history of mankind.  What do you think, Bob?

BOB

I gotta agree with you there, Sam.  I have no doubt that this will be the pinnacle of human achievement.  What these elite sportsmen will achieve over the next six hours will make all of our lives feel insignificant.  I can’t wait.

SAM

U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!

BOB and SAM high five.

(cut to commercials)

4. Superbowl Post-game

SAM

Wow.  Wasn’t that amazing?  This has to go down in history as being one of the most remarkable finishes to a sporting event ever.

BOB

I gotta tell you Sam, I’m pretty drunk, but it certainly felt like the greatest game ever.

SAM

Well, there’s only one way to be sure.  Let’s watch every play again in slow motion.  Our slow-mo replays are sponsored by Budwieser - when you want to drink urine, make sure you drink the best that America has to offer!

(cut to commercial)

3.  House

THE PATIENT is sick, and is rushed to hospital.

FOREMAN

House, The patient is really sick, and we don’t know why.  They’re going to die if we don’t do something within the next 42 minutes.

HOUSE (sighing)

You really are an idiot.  Clearly, The patient is lying about some important piece of information, and is suffering from actute capalindocisis.  Give her 20mg of propodiamine and she’ll be fine.

FOREMAN leaves, and treats THE PATIENT, who promptly has a heart attack/turns yellow/stops breathing and nearly dies.  FOREMAN and CHASE somehow manage to save their life.

CUDDY

Goddammit, House, they nearly DIED.  What the hell were you thinking?

HOUSE

Look, I’m high right now, so all I really want to do is sit here and eat oreos.  Is that a problem?  If they had a heart attack/turned yellow/stopped breathing then it clearly means that she has an inner ear infection caused by a small insect from cuba tunnelling through her brain.  Just hang them upside down above a pit of snakes and they’ll be fine by tomorrow morning.

CUDDY and FOREMAN treat THE PATIENT, who promptly turns green/has a fit/starts throwing up hairballs.  HOUSE walks in just as CUDDY and FOREMAN rectify the situation.

HOUSE

It just occurred to me - The patient probably just has a throat infection.  A couple of tylenol and a good night’s rest should do the trick.

THE PATIENT recovers.

2. CSI

A RANDOM GUY discovers a body.

RANDOM GUY

AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGH!

CSI arrive on the scene, and GRISOM says something foreboding to camera, preferably involving some kind of pun.

CUT TO: Opening credits roll, while THE WHO fill up their retirement fund.

CATHERINE

Well I’ve examined the evidence, and I think that John Fleming did it.

CAPTAIN BRASS leaves, and arrests JOHN FLEMING.  He’s brought into CSI headquarters for questioning.

JOHN FLEMING

I didn’t do it!  I was in Cuba the whole time, having sex with someone that isn’t my wife!

NICK

I guess we’ll have to look at the evidence again.

CUT TO: Montage of various CSI agents performing experiments and looking at things closely with magnifying glasses.

GRISOM

Ooooh.  It must’ve been the victim’s father that did it using a chicken and a remote controlled airplane.  How did we not see it sooner?

CAPTAIN BRASS leaves and arrests those responsible.  They admit guilt in light of the tremendous weight of evidence against them.  THE WHO play guitar some more.

1.  The Super Bowl

COMMENTATOR

And they’ve kicked off!

(cut to commercial)

COMMENTATOR

WOW!  What a play!  He threw the ball and the other guy caught it!

(cut to commercial)

Two hours pass.

COMMENTATOR

And that’s half time!  Let’s listen to Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band!

(cut to commercial)

COMMENTATOR

And they’ve kicked off!

(cut to commercial)

COMMENTATOR

Would you look at that!  He picked the ball up and ran nearly 12 yards with it!  AMAZING!

CO-COMMENTATOR

Yup, that’s gotta be the greatest 11 yard run in the history of professional sports.

(cut to commercial)

Three hours pass.

COMMENTATOR

And they’ve won the superbowl!

(cut to commercial)

It occurred to me this morning that I probably should log on here and recognise the fact that I’ve moved to a new country.  I’ve been living in Toronto for 10 days now, and the strange thing is that it feels like I’d hardly been away at all.  Bear in mind, it’s been two and a half years since I last visited here on holiday and a good three and a half years since I actually called Toronto home.  In that time I have:

• Managed a bar for two years.  TWO YEARS.  While there I worked with over 60 different members of staff and accounted for well over a million pounds in sales.
• Graduated from University (again).
• Dated someone for well over a year.
• Lived in two different flats, with four different people.  And a dog.

Yet as soon as I stepped off the subway train and walked onto Dundas Square, it was like I had never left.  As soon as I saw Rickey and Heather and Melinda and Sam and Tim and Brad and Holly and everyone else it was if I had only been away for a couple of weeks.  It never fails to amaze me how quickly my brain can adapt to new surroundings.  So, anyway, I’m here.  What’s been happening?  Why the hell am I writing this?

Well, in all honesty not much has been going on.  I’ve been searching for an apartment, which I gotta tell you is turning into a full time job.  I’m ready to put it on my CV.  I’m going to put Craig from Craigslist.ca as a reference.  I think that out of all the soul destroying activities you can undertake in your first week in a city, flat hunting is right up there on the list beside job hunting and licking homeless people’s foreheads to see who tastes the best (Minty-face Sally wins, in case you were wondering).

You would not believe the number of utter shitheaps that we have walked around in the last week and a half.  There was the place in the centre of downtown where we had to walk through crowds of people who were demonstrating (probably about the terrible state of the apartment) to get to a two bedroom apartment which was huge, but a dump.  The guy that was showing us round admitted that it was disgusting, yet he pitched it to us anyway.  It was literally as if he was trying to sell us some of his poo by saying “Yeah, I know it’s human waste, but LOOK HOW BIG IT IS!”.  We decided against moving in, but only after Stuart fell down the stairs.  Oh yes, I forgot to mention that the place was a deathtrap.  That wasn’t even the worst place we’ve seen.

There was the apartment that was split on two levels so that the living room and kitchen were on the ground floor, then the ‘bedrooms’ were downstairs in the basement.  Of course Stuart nearly fell down the stairs trying to get into the basement, but that’s par for the course by now.  The inverted commas around the term ‘bedrooms’ is very much deliberate.  While the landlord may have described them as bedrooms, a more accurate moniker may be ‘cells’ or ’serial-killer lairs’.  They had concrete floors and tiny windows.  There was no cupboard space, just a large hole cut into the wall.  I honestly expected a starving one-eyed man with straggly hair to be chained up in the corner, drooling over himself and eating a bowl of gruel.

Then there was the place in Kensington Market where they tried to throw in loads of extras that weren’t advertised.  Like when the guy that was showing the place opened the freezer to show us all of the disgusting stuff that we would get free with it.  Or when he talked about the couch that’d been there since couches were invented and how we could keep it.  Or, best of all, the crazy old lady that was wandering around ‘cleaning’ the place who took an immediate liking to Stuart and followed us around while pointing all of the disgusting parts of the apartment that she was apparently going to fix by the time we moved in.  At least I think that’s what she was saying.  For all I know, she could’ve been trying to convince us to move with her to Romania and set up a residential lettings empire.  Either way, the crazy old lady was definitely an added extra.

Last Saturday, however, we found the PERFECT apartment.  It was in the centre of my favourite neighbourhood in the city, it was clean and huge and on a beautiful street and it was at least $300 cheaper than anything we had seen before.  As soon as we saw it we knew that we had to have it.  So, we submitted an application, which is a huge pain in the ass involving three references, a job history and three credit references.  We viewed the place two hours after it was listed online (we were the first to see it) and our application was in by 10am on Monday morning.  We haven’t heard from the landlord since, and she won’t return our phone calls.  Our anger is increasing by the day.  We’ve given up on the apartment from heaven, and the search continues.  I’ve got a viewing at 2pm which looks promising, so I’ll keep my fingers crossed that there aren’t any torture chambers or drug dealers included in the deal.

Yes, like pretty much everyone else on the planet, I sat and watched Barack Obama take office yesterday.  Given my love for American politics (thank you the West Wing) I was never going to miss it.  Did you know the speech was written by a 27 year old guy called Jon?  He did a great job.  Some of my personal highlights:

The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People have remained faithful to the ideals of our forbearers, and true to our founding documents.

…

On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.  On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn-out dogmas that for far too long have strangled our politics.

…

This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions — that time has surely passed.  Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

…

And because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect.

To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict or blame their society’s ills on the West, know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy.  To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history, but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.

…

America, in the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words; with hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come; let it be said by our children’s children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God’s grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

That last paragraph puts the hairs on the back of my neck up every time I read it.  The kid’s got skills.

There are hundreds of thousands of blogs out there that proclaim to hold the secret to generating massive amounts of traffic to your site.  I can understand why people go crazy about them, because there’s a certain loneliness that comes when you’re writing to your blog every day and you know for sure that absolutely no-one is looking while you bear your soul (or post photographs of your cat, whatever).

Being the helpful guy that I am, I’ll just tell you exactly how you can punch up your site viewing stats to make you feel better about yourself.  Ready?  Here it comes:

Talk about Charlie Hoehn.

That’s it.  It really is that simple.  I mentioned him yesterday because I’ve read his blog for a while now, he always seems to produce good content on internet marketing and he’s as good a role model as any since he’s pretty much getting to pick and choose the work that he does (as far as I can tell).  He learned straight from Seth Godin, so it’s clear that he’s not only smart, but he’s had the right guidance and put in the work to make the most of his opportunities.

The thing is that he made a great video blog (a vlog?) a couple of days ago about the best ways to use a social bookmarking site called Delicious. He suggested that the best way to figure out how someone smart thinks is to track the stuff that they bookmark on this site and read all of it.  He, of course, is right on the money (I’ve been doing the same thing for a while now, ever since I discovered the network button) but there has been a couple of predictable side effect to him sharing this tactic.

I’m willing to bet that he’s had hundreds of people added him to their network over the last three days.  They’re now reading his Delicious bookmarks and trying to work him out.

I think that Charlie has a Google alert set up so that he’s notified every time his name is mentioned in any blog on the net (this is also very smart).  He commented on the bottom of my last post for a reason.  Charlie tags every time someone says nice things about him on the net (with the tag ‘Press’).  When you’re making a living on a client-by-client basis, testimonials are important.  He’s got all of his close to hand.

This means that writersbloc showed up on his delicious bookmarks, and a whole bunch of people came and read my last post.  And they’re still coming, so if you’re one of those folks, hi!

Another side effect of yesterday’s post is that I think I might have set Mr Hoehn off on a riff, maybe.  Yesterday I said:

I think if you pick one person that you want to be like (which I think is the definition of a role model) you’ll end up being a pale imitation of them.  I can’t write like Aaron Sorkin, because he’s the best in the world at being Aaron Sorkin.  I can only write like Jon Kane.

Check out Charlie’s post today where he talks about why most blogs fail:

It is painful when I see this happen, especially when the writer is imitating this guy.  He has a stranglehold on that particular style right now — it’s too unique and recognizable, so just don’t even try it.  No matter how good your stuff is, it’s very likely that you’ll come across as a poseur and be quickly dismissed.  A lot of people copy this guy, as well.  I have seen one too many blogs where the writers are trying to be Ryan.  The problem is: they aren’t Ryan.  If you walk like a duck and quack like a duck, it does NOT make you a duck.  You have to be yourself, whoever that is.

There’s one final piece of information which is the most important lesson of all of this, and the one that you should remember.  Even though I’ve gotten increased traffic, pretty much everyone came to yesterday’s blog post and left straight away.  There wasn’t anything that made them want to stay.

The post wasn’t for them.

Getting increased traffic is great, but it’s worthless if you don’t have something of value to give to the people that do show up.  That’s why most of the black-hat google SEO tricks of the trade are useless.

You can mention Charlie in your next blog post and see if you get a traffic spike too.  Hell, you could do it with 101 different internet writers that have bigger audiences than you to see if it’ll help, but the fact is that the only way that you can build an audience is by writing things that people want to read.

The only way worth doing it is by generating value.

There’s an internet meme doing the rounds at the minute where various bloggers have been interviewing their readers.  Lis of Last Year’s Girl fame has sent me 5 questions that she’d quite like answered, so I going to do the decent thing and answer them as best I can.  I can’t promise that I’ll be very succinct, mind.  At the end I’ll give you a chance to get involved so that I can ask you five questions.  Be warned - this post is pretty long, but I’ve tried to make it interesting.

***

Lis: You’re up next on Dragon’s Den. I am Duncan Ballantyne (some imagination may be required here). You have one hundred words to sell me your great idea - what do you say?

Me: I hate word counts.  Nonetheless, since I’m launching a new website (with blog attached) very, very soon, then I’d better make my answer about that.  Here goes:

“My website will provide a central hub for the Glasgow music community (fans, artists and promoters) to rally around, while being self-sufficient.  I want people to discover great music that they didn’t know they liked.  I want to provide a one-stop solution to finding out who is playing where in Glasgow.  I want to help promoters reach music fans in a way that Ticketmaster can’t.    I want to provide a platform for people to talk about the music they love.  Whenever possible I want to make it easier for people to find bands they love and see them live.”

99 words, baby!

Lis: You’ve always said that there is no challenge that cannot be overcome. What do you think is the biggest challenge you have faced to date?

Me: I truly do believe that there isn’t a challenge that can’t be overcome (with the exception of living forever), and the basis of the belief makes it kind of difficult to pick out a single challenge that is the biggest.  I think that the size of a challenge varies depending on your perspective.  I mean, you could say that going to Canada was the biggest, but at the time it didn’t seem that difficult.  On the other hand, if you’d asked me a month ago, I’d say my biggest challenge was getting on the subway again.  The panic disorder and anxiety made the simple act of getting on a train immensely difficult, despite the fact that I’d done it hundreds (if not thousands) of times before.  I know I’m not really answering the question, but I just wanted to stress that we all face challenges every day, and it’s only through our perception of them that they grow in size.

If you twist my arm and force me to pick one, I’d have to say my biggest challenge to date was when I first got back from Toronto in June 2005.  I had to move back to my parent’s house in Kirkinner, and at the time it felt as if I’d wasted 7 years of my life.  I was basically where I had been when I was 17 - broke, living with my parents and without any real prospects - and I really, really missed Toronto.  After being a mess for three weeks, I pulled myself together, got a shitty job and tried to start again in Glasgow.  I didn’t do it alone (I had a bunch of help) but I’m pretty proud of being able to go from sitting in my old room crying my eyes out and cursing the world, to where I am now.  It would’ve been the easiest thing in the world to just sit and let myself wish that I could go back to Toronto, but the game’s too short to waste it wishing that you were dealt different cards.  And of course, as it turns out, I’m getting to go back to Toronto.  I guess I just had some stuff I had to learn in Glasgow before I could be let loose on the Canucks again.

Lis: The big Toronto move is imminent - but if you had a million Canadian dollars, what other travel destinations are on your wishlist?

Me: I’m a bit strange because I’ve got a list of places I want to live in, rather than travel to.  Usually it’s for really dumb reasons, but the idea of discovering a city over the course of six months is a whole lot more appealing to me than trying to see it all in a week.  So if I had a million Canadian dollars I’d go live in New York for a month or two (which would probably cost a million all by itself) then move down to San Fransisco for another couple of months.  I’ve heard that Vancouver is amazing, so I’d hit there too.  Outside North America, I’ve always wanted to live in Berlin and Paris.  Prague is a beautiful city, so I’d consider staying there for a while.  I don’t really fancy Australia and New Zealand or most of Asia, with the possible exception of Japan.  I dunno if I can do all of that for a million, but I’d be willing to give it a try.  I figure if I manage 6 months in each of the cities I’ve listed (NY, SF, Vancouver, Berlin, Paris, Prague) I’d have a pretty good idea where I want to settle down.

Lis: And if, by some technological fluke, you could only have five albums on your iPod for the flight - what would you choose?

Me: This is actually pretty easy.

Arcade Fire - Funeral

Interpol - Antics

Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend

Ryan Adams - Gold

Talking Heads - Stop Making Sense: Special New Edition

All are albums that I’d happily listen to again and again and again.

Lis: Who is your biggest role model?

Me: This is a tough one, because rather than having specific role models, I try to learn from EVERYONE.  I think if you pick one person that you want to be like (which I think is the definition of a role model) you’ll end up being a pale imitation of them.  I can’t write like Aaron Sorkin, because he’s the best in the world at being Aaron Sorkin.  I can only write like Jon Kane. Having said that, I steal behaviour and ways of thinking from people all over the place.  I get influenced and inspired in a hundred different ways every day.  For example, Tucker Max inspires me because he writes stuff like this:

Look man, if you haven’t realized it by now, you will realize soon enough that a lot of people out there tiptoe through their lives, unsure of who they are or what they want, blindly following the dictates of society, never truly finding themselves or their calling, until they arrive quietly at their death.

I refuse to tiptoe through life and arrive quietly at my death. I decided a long time ago that I would not be one of those guys. That no matter how much effort or pain or sacrifice it took, I refused to settle. I refused to not actively take part in my life, instead of just going with the flow and finding myself in a place where I looked up and thought “I am so unhappy with my life. How did I get here?”

But here’s the thing: It is very easy to get there without realizing how you got there. Maybe our culture does a poor job of making its youth understand that getting life right is very hard. It requires a lot of skills to be a success, more than anything, it demands that you be two things: determined to find a path to your personal success, and courageous enough to take it, despite the consequences. Think to yourself: How many people do you know that you can really describe that way? Not many.

That’s the bad news. The good news is that its a choice. Success truly is a choice. Every single day, with every single action and every single decision, you pick your own path. Do you read something that educates you instead of watching your tenth Seinfeld run-run? Thats a choice. Do you go to the gym like you want to, or do you just drink a Diet Coke and sit on the sofa? That’s a choice. Do you go start writing like you’ve always said you wanted to, or do you just put it off for another day? That is a choice. Every day you make hundreds of thse choices, and when you are 40 and look up to find yourself in a shitty life that you don’t like, you have no one to blame but yourself.

Ryan Holiday is all kinds of smart.  Seth Godin and Charlie Hoehn are great, too.  In terms of my career, I like the way Dave Gorman has done it.  He’s achieved so much, and just keeps pushing himself to try out different things.  To date he’s written three books, made an award winning documentary, done countless sell out comedy tours, appeared on The Daily Show and generally just been rather great.  I’m not as much of a fan of him as a person (although I’m only basing that on the email interaction I had with him, and his general tone on his blog) but you have to respect his work.  I want to write novels like Dave Eggers and write scripts like Aaron Sorkin.  Tim Ferriss makes me think that anything is possible.  Paulo Coelho reminds me that it’d be selfish of me not to follow my passion.  Of course, I haven’t actually met any of these people, but they all influence me in some way or another.

***

Right, now over to you.  If you want me to interview you, leave a comment and I’ll email you five questions that I’d like you to answer on your blog.  Memes are worth nowt if you don’t spread them, so don’t be shy!  Oh, and you should all check out Last Year’s Girl - Lis is lovely, and writes about music in a way that makes me all kinds of jealous.

I read the New York Times yesterday and saw that  scientists have been giving bees cocaine, just to see what happens.  It turns out that:

“The scientists found that bees react much like humans do: cocaine alters their judgment, stimulates their behavior and makes them exaggeratedly enthusiastic about things that might not otherwise excite them.

…

On cocaine the bees “danced more frequently and more vigorously for the same quality food,” Dr. Barron said. “They were about twice as likely to dance” as undrugged bees, and they circled “about 25 percent faster.” “

When asked to comment, a bee that took part in the study rubbed its nose furiously and said “JUST GET OUT OF MY FACE MAN!  I HAVEN’T SLEPT IN DAYS!”

The Scientists are now hoping to extend their study to see if they can get Linday Lohan, the Olson twins and Robin Williams to start making honey and spreading pollen.