Lee Lacks Focus

I think more than one of my school report cards said something along the lines of "Lee lacks focus." I think they may have been onto something.

Yesterday I applied for a job as a noir screenwriter for a gaming company. They liked what I sent and asked a bunch of us to write an audition noir story based on some sample news stories from the L.A Times in 1947. I haven't really done much straight noir, just a few send-ups, but the story came easily and was fun to write. Impossible to guess what the competition is like, of course, but I'm actually happy enough with how it turned out to send it to a noir mag. Main character is Detective John Slater, and I kinda like him. Deadline is not until Monday but the story came so quickly that I sent it in on Friday. Not the usual relationship I have with deadlines. Fingers crossed with this one too.

I started writing the story while in my clubbing clothing shop. Weird to be in a rave shop writing like Raymond Chandler, especially when we are involved in this fashion parade next week and I should have been working on ideas for that. See? Lacks focus.

Anyway, all good. We have a four minute slot. The Dreaded One and I have the music, we have fire twirlers, we have models who we are dressing tomorrow. We also have a makeup artist. Remember Ula? She was in the shop again the other day and I happened to ask what she is studying. Makeup artistry. She is going to be our makeup artist.

Now I am writing this blog post when I should be editing a Q&A I did with Jeff Buckley's photographer and writing my Grumpy column, which this month will be about how clubbing friends you've known for years can remain complete strangers. Had a very silly conversation with some doofers last week where we were all pretty surprised to find we had jobs that were entirely different to what we had all assumed. Clearly all the hours of conversations we've had at multi-day outdoor parties over the years have been utter bollocks and nothing real.

And another frustrating twist in the Meow Meow/Comatose With Desire saga... I mentioned what had happened to a publicist I know, and she said she knows the artist quite well. In fact there was a function a few weeks back at the Opera House that I helped cater for, changed out of my chef outfit and attended as a guest. Turns out that Meow Meow's creator was also there and the publicist could have introduced us... aaargh. It was another solo attendance and I could have done with some company too. That would have been lovely.

Still, I have been pretty spoiled in the life-is-lovely area lately, so I really can't complain.