There are a number of short movies out there based on my stories. If someone asks me if it’s ok to make one (some people don’t ask) I generally say Go Ahead. I don’t try to get involved, film-making is a different medium and I’m not into making movies so I leave the film-makers to it.
If you see any movies that aren’t mentioned/linked on the page Short Movies page on this site, let me know.
If you want to make a movie from one of my stories, my usual fee is one blueberry muffin or 1% of gross, but contact me just in case I develop a dislike of blueberry muffins.
Christopher James Walker has occupied my writing in one form or another for years. He appears fully in two novels – Urban Pastoral and Grendel – and makes a brief but crucial appearance in a third – The Heaven Field. He’s also in a couple of short stories.
I’m never sure if he’s a psychopath or, conversely, a severely damaged empath.
He’s due to make a final appearance in a book that has the working title of Stateless. It’s the fraternal twin cum sequel to Grendel, set ten years later, and clears up a lot of the unanswered questions in Grendel.
After that I’m letting him go.
I don’t so much read it as write it.
Made a return visit to Anne Tyler this week. Haven’t read her in years and I came across her by chance, but she’s a lovely writer; I don’t think her stories are about events, they’re just about people.
I’m reading A Patchwork Planet and it makes a warm and pleasant change from the junk-fiction I usually read.
The Accidental Tourist is my favourite Anne Tyler book though, and Muriel Pritchett is one of my favourite literary characters. She’s sort of tragic/vulnerable but admirably sparky and generous too.
But The Accidental Tourist invokes the whole novel/movie – which is better? – question that I get when I read books like Breakfast at Tiffany’s or Holes or Jurassic Park. Not the Godfather mind, cos the movies are far far better than the original book.
I had a lucid dream the other night. I felt as awake as I do now, but then I saw my pal John, and next to him was sitting another version of him, so I asked him ‘is this a dream?’ and he said ‘yes.’
Great I thought, a lucid dream, I can do whatever I want! I can make magic happen. Fly. Time travel. Whatever. So I sat down and made myself conjure the scenario and the people and the red wine I wanted at that moment.
Just me sitting there.
It seems that even in my dreams I’m subject to the laws of nature and physics. There’s a moral in there somewhere, a message of some sort, but I haven’t figured it out.
A couple of weeks ago I decided to write a few short stories and to be honest, right now all I have is a few phrases. But it’ll gel over the next few weeks, something will create itself out of the loose ingredients floating round in my head.
With massive amounts of help from the nocturnal genius that is Lucas, I think the site is complete.
All I need to do now is write some stuff. That’d be a start.
Lucas also did a prelim cover image for the story I’m working on at the moment, Stateless. It’s a follow-up to Grendel, set about ten years after the events in that book.
I always find it hard to let go. But this quote from the poem Walking to Sleep keeps me trying:
Step off assuredly into the blank of your mind.
Something will come to you.
Sitting listening to a documentary on BBC, about the history of the fork.
I suspect that means I’ve jumped the shark, species-wise, and have become so removed from what it means to be a human animal on planet earth that I’m now ripe for extinction.
Alternatively I’ve actually reached the pinnacle of human achievement, and I’m now completely civilised.
A bottle of red will help me decide.