The Kid Arrived...

This will be a very short post as I am suffering from sleep, humour and common sense deprivation - as a few of you may have guessed, my lack updates has been due to the arrival of The Kid - and luckily for me it was before my induction was due. I am taking a little maternity leave for the next couple of weeks, but I will be dropping by here and there.

So, the gruesome details? You don't want to know. "Hit by a truck" was Lucy's description - I reckon "roadkill on the M25 in Friday rush hour" more suitable.

So, bloggite cyber-aunts and uncles, I would ask you to welcome into the world Callum James, my little boy, born 09:42, Tuesday 12th June 2007.

Let the celebrations begin...just wait a week or so before opening the really expensive champers please - I'd love a glass.

Still Here...

Just a very quick update for all those passing by after their busy weekends: The Kid has not made it's appearance yet. Very annoying that, especially having to forego all those lovely courses - I should have booked on one regardless and that would have guaranteed an arrival without a doubt.

I spent the weekend feeling not particularly great - slightly worse than during the week - so it can't be far off. Just need this little sod to come along before Induction Day...which is now tomorrow night. Urgh. Scared.

Good Dog pointed out to me that Stephen Merchant is sitting around doing bugger all according to Variety. Well, I'm sure he'll be relieved to know he's not the only one...

But at least I got to see the first part of "Talk to Me" last night - think I'll have to wait and see how it pans out before throwing down the gauntlet though. I just want to know how Beesley's tackle managed not to make a special appearance of it's own at that acute horizontal angle. Toupe tape, strapping, cgi - I have seen them all used in the past, but there seemed to be a lot more on show than those items would normally allow.

Meanwhile, Lucy, the cheeky little dynamo, has already posted the first of her notes from Adrian Mead's fab course held in Edinburgh over the weekend.

Whoosh...

And there goes another week. It's been a mighty busy few days or so.

I'm glad to say the short script is done, dusted and gone to the BSSC (many thanks to those who offered to read on the 'next' round on Pof3 but it was pretty much 'there'-ish - I will, of course, impose something else on you three in the not too distant future!), and much to my delight, the V+ Box seems to have had a word with itself and stopped turning everyone on TV a lighter shade of alien. It's always quite nice when technology sorts itself out.

On the other hand, I have been living in a bit of a bubble for the last few days and have not had the labotomy which would enable me to watch any BB on the aforementioned technology. But to top off all that bubble living, I have been having some major weird aches and pains which would suggest that The Kid is imminently about to make an appearance in the world - so, get the cyberchampers on ice, guys and gals.

This coming weekend is not only D-Day for me and The Kid, but it also features the most courses/masterclasses to be held over a few days, than I have ever heard of in my entire life.

If you are attending Adrian Mead's bound-to-be-brilliant course, "The Long Distance Screen Writer" or Paul Ashton's appearance & talk at the Women Writer's Network, or Vogler's "The Writer's Journey", or Living Spirit's "Making it in Hollywood", or Rona Munro's "Writing, A Survival Guide", or Channel 4's "Four Days in June" (although, strictly speaking this is on next week), then please do post a comment here or a link back to your blog so all those afflicted with the wretched scourge, "cannotmakeit-itis", can read about the fantastic day/days the panacea-discovering rest of you had.

Looking ahead to TV this weekend (and programmed into my V+ in case I go into labour - that would be typical), the first part of Danny Brocklehurst's much anticipated "Talk To Me" starts at 21:30, Sunday 10th June, ITV. You can read how the series came about here and more about the man himself, here. I'm hoping it's going to be a good one to watch.

Right, I'm off to play with the baby monitor or something.

What's Up With June?

Right, now I am severely miffed. The stage beyond the proverbial that broke the proverbial has now been reached.

Let me explain something: if you are arranging a really interesting class/course/masterclass/meeting/night out on the beers in London, please - I repeat, *PLEASE* - do not schedule it for the weekend of the 9th, 10th or even the 11th June. In fact, don't schedule any time between the 9th and 22nd June to be on the safe side. That would be fab. As you may or may not know I am due to give birth around that time and possibly won't be able to get away to listen to your dulcit tones. Got that?

If I hear of one more event happening on this particular aforementioned weekend, just like the Women Writer's Network info on Robin Kelly's fab blog, then I am going to come along regardless and watch your faces pale as I go into the final stages of labour. Sure you got it? Most excellent.

You have been warned.

Oh, where to go, what to do...

"I love deadlines. I especially love the swooshing sound they make as they go flying by" Douglas Adams.

For those of you London-tied and not able to make "The Long Distance Screen Writer" course (Edinburgh, 9th June) run by the brilliant Adrian Mead, or are not attending Christopher Vogler's "The Writer's Journey" (9th & 10th June, run by Raindance), those nice folks at Living Spirit (Ealing Studios) are running a one day masterclass entitled "Making it in Hollywood" (10th June) aimed at directors, producers and writers. They are also chucking in a FREE copy of "The Guerilla Film Makers Hollywood Handbook" (worth £30) if you book and pay by this Sunday (20th).

If you aren't sure about this course or if you are just curious, Living Spirit are sending a free pdf interview with British Producer Jeremy Bolt to those who email a request to office*at*livingspirit*dot*com

If, like me you can't make any of these courses because...
a) they are all taking place on the same weekend, and
b) one of those days just happens to be the day on which your baby is due

...then just sulk.

Me and Red Pen are off to do some serious damage in shortscriptland. Have a great weekend all.

Where's the Pause Button?

"Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels." Linda Ellerbee

Too many demands on my time, not enough hours in the day and and no energy to write into the wee small hours. That's the week so far.

I have been desperately trying to turn round the most recent short for submission to the BSSC, but it managed to take on a life of it's own whilst I was contemplating my belly button still being an 'innie', and is now running at 18 pages. Too long for a short? Not sure - it's borderline. Red Pen needs to come out to play, I think. I also completed two more outlines over the weekend/this week so far, but I have put them away for now as I need them to fester a bit. I may pop them and Red Pen into my hospital bag so Red Pen can do it's most damning whilst I'm in labour. Perhaps not.

Talking of labour, I am increasingly having strange pains here and there and apparently the head is 3/5ths engaged - what that really means with regard to timescale, is another thing. All I know is, I feel as though I am really working against the clock. A clock that will permanently scream, cry, want feeding, help and constant attention. And that'll just be The Glenster ;0)

So for now, instead of blogging I am going to get Red Pen and do some short shortening - until next time, here's a freebie: Broadcast is re-launching itself with a new look and content, and from 17th May to 3oth May the website will be free to access.

(P. S. Yippee for Eastenders. Le Mitchell is going to be able do something other than dunk Beale's head soon! I am totally beside myself.)

Live From Mars

I'm convinced.

This morning I woke up to find I had crossed into my dual universe. I have made a quantum leap and didn't even try very hard. Everyone looks the same, hell, they even sound the same, but other than The Glenster and Millie The Cat (who seem to have remained normal), some strange shift has occurred.

No mail was delivered this morning. This was the first indication that all was not what it seemed. We always get mail - even if it is just one of those useless bundles of 'Revolutionary Home Helpers TM' crap that Postpeople get paid extra to indirectly stuff into our recycling boxes. But never mind, I thought, and off we went to the hospital for 09:30 for my 'final' scan and appointment with The Consultant. We arrived at the antenatal dept like so many times before, but this time I was accosted for a sample. Now, I have never had to provide one before (other than for my normal midwife visits) so I was a little confused. The midwife/nurse person slammed against her seat, totally aghast, thrusted an empty sample bottle into my hand and flicked me towards the door and toilets. There's nothing like peeing on demand.

Although I was the second appointment of the day, I counted 4 other couples going in to see The Consultant in front of me. Maybe I was doing one of my invisibility tricks? The Consultant eventually saw me at 11:00. We did all the niceties, but The Consultant seemed a little different to normal, almost a shell of his usual self; I had my blood pressure checked (another thing that has never happened on a 'Consultant visit'), and then up on the couch for the final scan. The measurements still indicated a larger than average baby with ridiculously long legs, and the CCAM on the baby's lung, although not regressed totally, was still pretty small. Good stuff.

Then the Seven Dimensional Einsteinian Hyperspherical Universe nodded it's head: did I want to pick a date for induction now, or wait for my next appointment with The Consultant? Exsqueeze me? Next appointment - that's when I'm due, surely? Induction? Possible Caesarean? WTF? Have I been living on another planet for the last 35+ weeks? Obviously.

The induction is mainly for the safety of the baby, which I can go with, but as I have always reckoned I'll be early anyway, I have never considered it. Now I am determined to have this baby early.

I'm off to do some research into ways of encouraging the little blighter out before the NHS Army wage 'The War Of The Bump' on me. If anyone knows any old wives tales', helpful tips, safe ways of ensuring an early birth (all after 37 weeks), please feel free to comment below.

I can't believe it's only lunchtime.

Time's-a-tickin...

I came across the 'Spiky-Haired One' again at the end of last week - I think he may have been self-breeding in the house as another electrician metamorphosed from the airing cupboard (it's very warm in there), and that's where last week's electrical problem existed. The heating/water system is all sorted now though and it seems as though the issue of an electrical certificate is the sparky equivalent of pest control - all scuttling, swearing sparkies have now disappeared as if they'd never been here. It's strange, but I almost miss leaving little cups of ridiculously sweet tea around the house for them; and I almost cried when I found a tiny cut off piece of electrical cable embedded in my foot yesterday. It will be tough, but I have to be strong, hope my heating system stays working and find a way forward. Sparky-free.

It has been a rollercoaster ride over the last few weeks though, what with one thing and another, but I am glad to report our house extension/refurb etc has now been passed by the Building Control Inspector. I now await their all important certificate which will allow us to sell our house in the future, if we so wanted. Hallelujah! Never thought this day would come.

The Glenster has been busy in the baby's room deleting the old artex ceiling and perfecting the imperfect walls. Just the emulsion, glossing & the border to go up so we're/he's nearly there. Which is probably just as well as we found out last night that one of the girls in my NCT antenatal class had her baby (prematurely) on Saturday - both mum and baby are good, although baby is in special care/incubator having weighed in at just over 3lbs. Bless. It was a little scary to hear, but it was a really great way to see seven grown men look gravely ill in two seconds flat. Double Bless. ;) Guess we should really go shopping at the weekend and buy some stuff as all our baby would have at the moment is a (nearly) cool room, a bottle steriliser, a funky top for skiing (yes, you read it right) and an outfit for a 3-6 month old. Oh, and a book.

But between now and junior's arrival there's just the staircase to strip, re-stain & varnish and the decking to go back down in the builder's yard (a.k.a 'garden').

I see light glimmer at the end of a very unyeilding, twisted, tenebrous tunnel. Which is hopefully what my baby cannot see at the moment.