Right, I have 1401 things to do before the end of the week (really), so here’s a random mess of stuff that has or will be happening in the next 24 to 48 hours.

Starting with the “has happened” first then:

The writer, producer and director JK Amalou has launched himself as a script reader and editor as well as mentor and wants me to tell all you lot. He’s a quality guy and has worked for the likes of Polygram, Studio Canal, Ridley Scott and Martin Scorsese. He’s also a lot of fun and I’ve had a great time working with him on a variety of my specs including the incredibly gory WISH (now called Eclipse). You can check out his web page with more details here.

Talking of Eclipse, I’ve been writing this as my proposal for Fever Pitch (many thanks to Jason Arnopp for his help with this, not to mention the abundance of double entendres, always a pleasure). I would LOVE to get into the final ten with this, since it’s the only way I can go to The Screenwriters’ Fest this year. The conversation in my house went a little like this:

Me: Husband, I’m going to The Screenwriters’ Festival.
Husband: What!? You f***** off to Edinburgh the other day, how can you abandon our children AGAIN?
Me: I’m not abandoning them. You’re a wonderful father and never put the baby’s nappies on backwards or feed the boy chips the whole time I’m away.
Husband (glowing with pride): That’s right. I am. Oh, but wait… It’s during the week!
Me: So?
Husband: Well I have to go to work, don’t I? And your Mum is on Holiday that week so she can’t look after the baby.
Me: Damn. You’re right. What a selfish cow! And I can’t believe you have to go to work: you’ll actually stand in the way of my screenwriting career?
Husband: Yes. If it means putting food on the table.

So, with much arm-wrestling and many rounds of strip poker, I managed to get him to agree: I won’t BUY a ticket to The Screenwriters’ Fest, but if I win Fever Pitch I can go and he’ll tell his Boss…Something. Lucky for him the odds are so out there, but marriage is about compromise, blah blah blah. SO going next year!

Next! Last night I dreamt about The Potdoll. She and I were going to a funeral in Belfast, but had to take the M25 to get there (isn’t that the wrong way??). Halfway up the motorway I remembered I can’t actually drive, so we had to swap places at the steering wheel with calamitous results in that we drove through that steel middle-thing in the centre of the motorway and ended up in bloody York. Which was odd. Even odder, to get out of York we had to walk through a ghost train where Dale Winton of all people asked you questions at the door. If you got them right, you could go. If you didn’t, you had to become part of the ghost train. I got my question right since it was easy: “What are the names of your children?” but poor Potdoll got asked the equation-thingy for magnesium, which I thought was unneccessarily difficult. I think that Dale just wanted to keep her in his ghost train, the swine. This isn’t the first time I’ve dreamt about a blogger either: I once dreamt that Danny Stack turned evil with a chainsaw a la Jason X and also, despite never having clapped eyes on Scott The Reader, I dreamt he was writing in a moleskin in his trailer on a movie set whilst Kate Moss and Kylie Minogue snorted lines of coke at his feet whilst completely nude. Weirder, Glenn close was also present, dressed as Elizabeth I…

Finally, in this section: WE HAVE HAD AN OFFER ACCEPTED! Third time lucky. Looks like it’s all systems go for our move to Bournemouth, hallelujah. Best of all, this place has a WENDY HOUSE IN THE GARDEN! SQUEAL! I think I’m going to like it more than the kids. In fact, this is probably why I write horror – a knee jerk reaction to my parents’ cruel refusal to ever get me one. Well, revenge is mine now.

So, onto the future stuff:

Thanks to everyone who’s emailed or left comments about Scriptwriting Courses. Still collating all the info, but have noticed we have LOADS on short courses and not much on MAs, BAs etc. I will be writing these articles in the next month or so, so I’m particularly keen to hear from anyone who’s been on or is on courses at places like Royal Holloway, Bournemouth, De Montfort, Westminster — anywhere! Let me know what you think here or email.

The lovely Gavin has suggested we go for July 21st, not the 14th as a meet for the Scribosocial since it’ll mean shortlisted applicants for the BBC Writers Academy who will have attended the workshops can come too if they’re from out of town. I think this is a great idea, since if I don’t get on the shortlist I can pick any of these people’s brains, or even abduct them and pose in their place (but don’t tell anyone).

I will be attending the BBC’s workshop for The Royal Tapes in Bristol between 6pm and 7.30pm tomorrow, so if you’re there too come up and say hello. I’m the short brunette lass with a bob and the long skirt. Or email me. I will of course write full and comprehensive notes on the class for all you peeps.

Finally then, because I’ve had so many great ones of late, here are some more mental Google searches that have brought people to my blog in the last 2 weeks:

People fire naked
David Suchet hairy chest
Is my dog sick because of Round Up?
quack quack oops!
I wasn’t interested in boys until I was
boa constrictor pet poo
How do you spell racket?
fucking machinas test
confess to the literary agent
the night porter naked

And perhaps most worrying:

Lucie in the bedroom

I thank you.