Atchoo!

I caught a cold just as the temperature began to rocket, and it really whacked me out. At work, I kept sneezing and blowing my nose. You would think that the general public would see you weren’t well, and strive to be less irritating, but no. One of them actually complained about the noise I made whilst blowing my nose. Likewise, you’d think your bosses might take it easier on you; but as far as they’re concerned, if you turn up, you’re fit for anything.
So I took a day off work. The next day I had free anyway, and I slept a lot in front of the tv whilst watching DVDs. I wrote very little.
I never seem to escape phlegm, which I have to bring up. I won’t go into further detail; suffice it to say, it leaves me dizzy, and seeing stars.
A magazine arrived for me, Scribbles, devoted entirely to new short stories. Readers get to vote for their three favourite stories, and the winners get cash prizes. It’s an entertaining, lively magazine, the stories less twee than they are in women’s magazines.
I wonder if I have a shot here. I haven’t come across a story where any of its characters die violently. For the next issue, they are looking for ghost stories. I might have one or two which are suitable. But I’m not sure yet how dark, scary or violent they allow their stories to be.
I’ve come across an anthology with an interesting premise. It’s called Shotguns Vs Cthulu (Stone Skin Press), and as the title suggests, the stories are all continuations from H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulu mythos. But the shotguns part of the title means that these stories are focussed on action.
When I read the introduction, I was apprehensive. Horror fiction, to me, is about the slow, the atmospheric. But I read one story in it, Breaking Through by Steve Dempsey, and I can see what the editor means. It’s a terrific story: fast paced, snappy, with great characters and, yes, a hint of violence. It also follows on faithfully from Lovecraft’s stories.
H.P. Lovecraft was a strange writer. He described his stories as weird fiction, and he wasn’t joking. I’ve read a few of his stories, which I think are great (especially Shadow Over Innsmouth ). Borderline science fiction. And there seems to be a growth industry around him: literary criticism, imitative stories. I even saw, the other day, an advert for Cthulu Mints.
I finished writing my script for the London Horror Festival’s Stage Fright competition ( http://www.londonhorrorfestival.com/stagefright/ ). They are looking for horror radio plays lasting no longer than 15 minutes, for casts of five or less. They reckon that a script like that be ten pages.
Well, when I came to typing the script up, it seemed to be longer than ten pages. And I couldn’t bring myself to edit it. I started scratching around for other ideas. The Stage Fright deadline is August 15^th. I racked my brains; and all the time I was racking them, I felt angry and sad for my original script. It was good, wasn’t it? I enjoyed writing it. I’d put myself into it. Every time I walked about, lines of my dialogue would pop into my head.
What if I edited it? It couldn’t be much over ten pages. I found the script layout that the competition preferred by going to the Wireless Theatre Company’s website ( http://wirelesstheatrecompany.co.uk/ ). Radio scripts have changed a bit since I first started writing them, in the 1980s. Even the BBC’s radio scripts are different. But, touch wood, as I’m making the changes, it seems to be coming in at the right length.