Seven Ages of Sebastian Grice

So my buddy Josh and I wrote a screenplay. It's probably slightly preposterous to believe we have any chance of going anywhere in the BBC's Laughing Stock competition, as this is the first time either of us have tried our hand at this kind of thing. But my naive optimism is probably one of my favourite flaws, so no doubt I'll end up paying a little more attention than usual to what the postman brings for the next few weeks.

Shall I show you some of it? Okay, here's a tiny bit of it:

Drunken Rambling

So I heard about this place, where people go to read their short stories to one another, and where a couple of published authors are on hand to give feedback. You read your four minute story, and then they either say luke-warm polite things if they hate it, or ridiculously over-encouraging things if they think it's okay.

I'm pretty shy at the best of times when it comes to letting people see my writing, so I struggle to imagine myself ever going along to read my work aloud in the near future. But as I sat bored on the train home from the pub last night, I began to write as though I had just that half-hour journey to prepare for it.

I didn't quite finish, it starts slowly, and there's no clear link between the start and the end; but in a desperate effort to keep churning out "content" for this place, I spent a little time this evening interpretting my scarcely legible scrawl. This blog has always had a fairly liberal attitude to quality control, so I couldn't see a good reason not to post it:

A similar notebook to the one I carry, but with better, smaller handwriting