Pub quizzes. Who needs them? They make me feel so stupid, I never know anything! Every Wednesday at home (Not London), my friends go to the pub quiz. I think it is entirely the dullest thing that I could think of to do. Sometimes though, I go just to see them.
I understand that pubs are obvious places where people go to socialise, to escape the confines of the home etc. But what happens when the pub itself becomes the same entrapping four walls that your house represents?
Pubs scare me because they remind me the horrible prospect of going to work, coming home, going to the pub then bed. Isn’t this how people talk about becoming trapped by routine? It seems to be as boring as a 9-5 job.
Of course, it does depend on the company, how everyone is feeling and so on. But I find that pub quizzes really limit the conversation. A lot of the time, there are so many people screaming conversations at each other that you don’t really get to speak to the people closest to you, you find yourself listening to other peoples conversations.
I was so excited about seeing my friends tonight, and then I got there and was utterly bored after answering random questions supposedly related to Christmas. I suppose however that you only really get out of something what you put into it. And only boring people get bored, (so they say) but I really can’t fathom going somewhere night after night, nor perhaps once a week.
I would much rather go out for a meal, where you can hear people speaking. Or go and see a film, if you don’t want to go and see a film. I just don’t appreciate smoke filling my lungs and drunken people spitting on my face when they speak to me.
Although I have never really understood the concept of pubs myself, I do see why people do enjoy them. They are an easy concept. They are familiar and comforting, like a second home almost. I do get that, but I don’t desire it.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Monday, December 18, 2006
Bedroom antics.
I was afraid of my bedroom for eleven years. It was noisy, dark and full of monsters.
I did not move into this current bedroom until two years ago, the monsters always kept me away you see. My childhood was spent in the bedroom directly below, where all the twittering and laughter of night time critters could be heard.
This bedroom is an attic, and three of the rooms have been converted. One is a bedroom, the other a train room and the final a storage room. The 4th was never converted.
To get to this room, you need to go up an extra set of stairs. The stairs laugh at you creakily as you venture upwards.
The knocking used to come from the then unconverted train room. I used to bring my dog Pepsi upwards with me. He pretty much offered no protection.
The knocking of course never continued once I was brave enough to confront the monsters.
The only other person, who has ever witnessed/heard this, is my best friend Faye. It never happened around anyone else. It is enough to make a girl think she’s crazy. However, it did stop when the room was converted. Go figure.
Maybe some hideous creature wanted letting out, but that meant me going in. It was only when the trains replaced the darkness that I could finally sleep in the room that was supposed to be mine when we first moved in here.
Since then, the only weird thing was when Jack and I on a stifling summer night heard whispering of lots of voices, all at once. No one was outside; our neighbours do not join onto us.
Maybe the monsters like to check up on my every now and again?
I did not move into this current bedroom until two years ago, the monsters always kept me away you see. My childhood was spent in the bedroom directly below, where all the twittering and laughter of night time critters could be heard.
This bedroom is an attic, and three of the rooms have been converted. One is a bedroom, the other a train room and the final a storage room. The 4th was never converted.
To get to this room, you need to go up an extra set of stairs. The stairs laugh at you creakily as you venture upwards.
The knocking used to come from the then unconverted train room. I used to bring my dog Pepsi upwards with me. He pretty much offered no protection.
The knocking of course never continued once I was brave enough to confront the monsters.
The only other person, who has ever witnessed/heard this, is my best friend Faye. It never happened around anyone else. It is enough to make a girl think she’s crazy. However, it did stop when the room was converted. Go figure.
Maybe some hideous creature wanted letting out, but that meant me going in. It was only when the trains replaced the darkness that I could finally sleep in the room that was supposed to be mine when we first moved in here.
Since then, the only weird thing was when Jack and I on a stifling summer night heard whispering of lots of voices, all at once. No one was outside; our neighbours do not join onto us.
Maybe the monsters like to check up on my every now and again?
Monday, December 11, 2006
Pet Peeves: This gets on my last nerve!
There are two main things that drive me mental:
1) When people cannot eat properly, and you have to hear the sound of them gestating their food. It is wrong, and I think it should be made illegal. I do not want to see what they are eating similarly; the thing that separates us from animals is that we’re supposed to have manners. That should be number one on the manners list!
Also when people chew gum, and they make ‘that’ sound. You know the one I mean, where you can hear the chewing gum being squished with saliva around their mouths. Particularly highlighted on the tube, when you HAVE to watch them doing it. Seriously people, there is absolutely no point in chewing gum.
2) Packets. Of any kind. I cannot bear them. This might actually be more of a phobia than a pet peeve. But when I have to sit next to someone who has a packet of crisps, I start squirming; I just don’t like the sound. I think putting food in something as stupidly noisy as a foil packet is ludicrous. Perhaps it is a form of advertising? Like ‘why don’t we see if our packet can make the loudest sound, and people will look at it and see our brand name?’ This is actually quite a clever strategy.
I just think I don’t like the inconsistency of the noise, especially somewhere like in the cinema. When you are really getting into a good film and all you can hear is the rustling of a million packets. My God, that is my idea of hell, cause then you have to hear people eating as well!
This is my rant over for now. Pet peeves are a fun way to start to get to know a person, then try and annoy the hell out of them. I encourage you all to go out and do it this week J
1) When people cannot eat properly, and you have to hear the sound of them gestating their food. It is wrong, and I think it should be made illegal. I do not want to see what they are eating similarly; the thing that separates us from animals is that we’re supposed to have manners. That should be number one on the manners list!
Also when people chew gum, and they make ‘that’ sound. You know the one I mean, where you can hear the chewing gum being squished with saliva around their mouths. Particularly highlighted on the tube, when you HAVE to watch them doing it. Seriously people, there is absolutely no point in chewing gum.
2) Packets. Of any kind. I cannot bear them. This might actually be more of a phobia than a pet peeve. But when I have to sit next to someone who has a packet of crisps, I start squirming; I just don’t like the sound. I think putting food in something as stupidly noisy as a foil packet is ludicrous. Perhaps it is a form of advertising? Like ‘why don’t we see if our packet can make the loudest sound, and people will look at it and see our brand name?’ This is actually quite a clever strategy.
I just think I don’t like the inconsistency of the noise, especially somewhere like in the cinema. When you are really getting into a good film and all you can hear is the rustling of a million packets. My God, that is my idea of hell, cause then you have to hear people eating as well!
This is my rant over for now. Pet peeves are a fun way to start to get to know a person, then try and annoy the hell out of them. I encourage you all to go out and do it this week J
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Books from my childhood.
There were several books when I were younger that used to make me very happy. I thought I would list them here.
Even now, thinking about them makes me smile.
The Hungry Caterpillar
I think that everybody has read this book; I can’t even really remember what it was about now. Except a caterpillar that was hungry. I have very vivid memories of loving this book though.
Beaver
Remember when at the end of the day, your teacher used to read you a story? All the curtains would be closed and you’d all sit on the floor cross legged. This is what
The Hobbit
I think everybody should have read this if they did not read it as a child. I did not read Lord of the Rings till in my early teens and even then it was a challenge. I have since read The Hobbit and LOTR’s about 5 times each. I remember loving the character of Gandalf straight away; I have always liked the idea of wizened old wizards with personality, shame that it is a stereotype now. The dragon was a very good character too, guarding his stolen treasure jealously. This book might be the reason I started reading seriously as I grew older.
Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone
Okay so I read this when I was about twelve, but I have really fallen in love with this series. I cannot wait for the seventh book to come out. This series of books has to be my favourite so far, apart from maybe Orson Scott Card’s Ender series.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
It's back on the stands baby!
After closing last week, a lot of journalists were sad to see the demise of the infamous Press Gazette. But it is back!
Press Gazette has been bought by specialist information group Wilmington and is back on the newsstand.
Wilmington, the specialist information and training group, has acquired assets from the administrator of Press Gazette Limited and is resurrecting the business by applying the skills and resources of its specialist Business Communications division.
Tony Loynes, the new editor-in-chief, said: "Sadly Press Gazette has missed an issue, but we will be making that up to the loyal subscribers of the publication. We intend to develop the print, the web presence and events side of Press Gazette.
The future looks bright for the Gazette then. I am happy to see it back after we learnt how much it really does help us student journalists with jobs and information on the world of journalism!
Rock on the next issue.
Press Gazette has been bought by specialist information group Wilmington and is back on the newsstand.
Wilmington, the specialist information and training group, has acquired assets from the administrator of Press Gazette Limited and is resurrecting the business by applying the skills and resources of its specialist Business Communications division.
Tony Loynes, the new editor-in-chief, said: "Sadly Press Gazette has missed an issue, but we will be making that up to the loyal subscribers of the publication. We intend to develop the print, the web presence and events side of Press Gazette.
The future looks bright for the Gazette then. I am happy to see it back after we learnt how much it really does help us student journalists with jobs and information on the world of journalism!
Rock on the next issue.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Secret London.
Well, well well… Blogger certainly messed up this time. It lost my blog for a week of my life.
Moving on, last night I went here for an open mic night.
Safe to say that I definitely was not the one singing. They value their windows too much I expect.
It turned out that there were only about 6 people there, but the room was small and if you squinted and saw double then it filled the room out more.
There are places like this that I am really unaware of in London, really small kooky places where you can avoid the masses.
I met a guy who was telling me about ‘Secret London’. This is a microcosm full of hip young things who know where all the quirky hideaway places lie.
How come I am unaware of this? I am constantly hearing about little vintage, record and book shops that are slotted away behind all the commercialism of everything else.
For instance, Alexis mentions a poetry café in Covent Garden, where his poetry magazine ‘back to the machine gun’ do readings. I expect that it’s all by word of mouth really that you find out.
But I find myself wanting to live more and more in Secret London, void of flashing advertisements and people ramming you into the road.
It sounds like an enchanting place.
Moving on, last night I went here for an open mic night.
Safe to say that I definitely was not the one singing. They value their windows too much I expect.
It turned out that there were only about 6 people there, but the room was small and if you squinted and saw double then it filled the room out more.
There are places like this that I am really unaware of in London, really small kooky places where you can avoid the masses.
I met a guy who was telling me about ‘Secret London’. This is a microcosm full of hip young things who know where all the quirky hideaway places lie.
How come I am unaware of this? I am constantly hearing about little vintage, record and book shops that are slotted away behind all the commercialism of everything else.
For instance, Alexis mentions a poetry café in Covent Garden, where his poetry magazine ‘back to the machine gun’ do readings. I expect that it’s all by word of mouth really that you find out.
But I find myself wanting to live more and more in Secret London, void of flashing advertisements and people ramming you into the road.
It sounds like an enchanting place.
Monday, November 20, 2006
12:05 at Westminster University.
On the tube from Northwick Park
'Ka chum bum bum bum, ka chum bum bum bum.'
A dull combination of red, grey and blue hurtles towards an unknown destination. Ka chum bum bum ka chum bum bum. A metallic worm making tunnels in the heart of the city.
'Bruuuum 'it complains, the train set’s off. Bodies are thrown towards the wall. ‘That happens every bladee time.’
The windows show a blur of shapes, whizzing past.
“I can’t really remembah…yah I can’t really remembah.”
Rustle; rustle of a lime plastic bag talking to itself.
A woman chewing on gum like a cow. Rustle, rustle as she leaves.
The train’s stomach rumbles as it stops, waiting to eat more of it’s willing victims.
'Chh, chh chhhhh shooooooooo.' A man with earphones on. His head is involuntarily jiving.
'Whoooosh' into a black hole, the eternity of London lost for a seconds at a time.
'Da dad a dum da dum.'
Faces stare back at themselves in the black windows. The dull ache of the colours in the train straining themselves, pushing themselves into the eye.
‘HUMPH’ as someone exhales angrily, “I down’t now Jake, I down’t now…” He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know.
Heavy Head’s droop downward, gravity pulling them towards the pigmented speckled floor. Like London has always been dragging them downwards.
The speckles look like ants, staring back at the people looking down at them, glaring up their noses.
A million or more triangles populate the seats, pieces of a puzzle that has not been solved yet.
Outside cloned houses reproduce themselves and sickly looking trees cluster together, vomiting their leaves to the ground. Telephone cables stretch their wired fingers towards one another . Connected in a way that no one in the tube is.
Silence, bum bum ka chum, silence ka chum ba bum bum bum.
The doors screeeeeam as they open, people leave. Entering into new worlds, new lives.
The journey is punctuated by black prison fences which keep people from escaping the tube platforms.
Men with lined faces wait with hunched backs.
'Bum bum ka chum, bum bum ka chum.'
Oh and the train has stopped.
'Ka chum bum bum bum, ka chum bum bum bum.'
A dull combination of red, grey and blue hurtles towards an unknown destination. Ka chum bum bum ka chum bum bum. A metallic worm making tunnels in the heart of the city.
'Bruuuum 'it complains, the train set’s off. Bodies are thrown towards the wall. ‘That happens every bladee time.’
The windows show a blur of shapes, whizzing past.
“I can’t really remembah…yah I can’t really remembah.”
Rustle; rustle of a lime plastic bag talking to itself.
A woman chewing on gum like a cow. Rustle, rustle as she leaves.
The train’s stomach rumbles as it stops, waiting to eat more of it’s willing victims.
'Chh, chh chhhhh shooooooooo.' A man with earphones on. His head is involuntarily jiving.
'Whoooosh' into a black hole, the eternity of London lost for a seconds at a time.
'Da dad a dum da dum.'
Faces stare back at themselves in the black windows. The dull ache of the colours in the train straining themselves, pushing themselves into the eye.
‘HUMPH’ as someone exhales angrily, “I down’t now Jake, I down’t now…” He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know.
Heavy Head’s droop downward, gravity pulling them towards the pigmented speckled floor. Like London has always been dragging them downwards.
The speckles look like ants, staring back at the people looking down at them, glaring up their noses.
A million or more triangles populate the seats, pieces of a puzzle that has not been solved yet.
Outside cloned houses reproduce themselves and sickly looking trees cluster together, vomiting their leaves to the ground. Telephone cables stretch their wired fingers towards one another . Connected in a way that no one in the tube is.
Silence, bum bum ka chum, silence ka chum ba bum bum bum.
The doors screeeeeam as they open, people leave. Entering into new worlds, new lives.
The journey is punctuated by black prison fences which keep people from escaping the tube platforms.
Men with lined faces wait with hunched backs.
'Bum bum ka chum, bum bum ka chum.'
Oh and the train has stopped.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Rape used as a weapon in war
I found a gruesome story in the Guardian today. It told of how hundreds of thousands are raped in the Congo wars in the past decade.
It seems to me, that as horrible as rape is, it is almost a common occurrence to hear of it in the news. It always seems to be reported in a blaze manner.
But this story affected me like no other newspaper story has done before. These attacks are not just being noted ‘for their scale but also their brutality.’
One 54 year old woman was attacked by people from a group called Mai Mai. This is an ethnic militia who are recognised by their wearing of animal skins and amulets.
After being raped several times over, and lay bleeding ‘the attackers thrust the barrels of their guns into her vagina.’
Rape is being used as an act of war. By one group named the interahamwe (an extremist Hutu Militia that fled to the Congo after the genocide of the Tutsis in Rwanda) rape is used as a tool of genocide.
They tell women that they would bear Hutu children and how that would be the end of the Tutsis.
A doctor told the Guardian how some women are raped so severely that they can be raped by up to ten men. Others have their vaginas pulled out.
At this I was quite distressed. I do not think I remember reading something so graphic before and yet the horror of it has not left me.
Normally, I read news stories and forget about them. I admit like the rest of the world, when one day’s news is done, I look for what else is new.
What else that is terrible has happened in the world now? We almost come to expect it.
I do not think I will be forgetting this story so easily.
It seems to me, that as horrible as rape is, it is almost a common occurrence to hear of it in the news. It always seems to be reported in a blaze manner.
But this story affected me like no other newspaper story has done before. These attacks are not just being noted ‘for their scale but also their brutality.’
One 54 year old woman was attacked by people from a group called Mai Mai. This is an ethnic militia who are recognised by their wearing of animal skins and amulets.
After being raped several times over, and lay bleeding ‘the attackers thrust the barrels of their guns into her vagina.’
Rape is being used as an act of war. By one group named the interahamwe (an extremist Hutu Militia that fled to the Congo after the genocide of the Tutsis in Rwanda) rape is used as a tool of genocide.
They tell women that they would bear Hutu children and how that would be the end of the Tutsis.
A doctor told the Guardian how some women are raped so severely that they can be raped by up to ten men. Others have their vaginas pulled out.
At this I was quite distressed. I do not think I remember reading something so graphic before and yet the horror of it has not left me.
Normally, I read news stories and forget about them. I admit like the rest of the world, when one day’s news is done, I look for what else is new.
What else that is terrible has happened in the world now? We almost come to expect it.
I do not think I will be forgetting this story so easily.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
It’s not what you know…
Today we had a Journalism networking event, which was organised by the Careers Service. It was brilliant. There were a panel of people from the world of journalism and media.
These people were:
Becky Hogge from Open Democracy
Amar Singh from The Evening Standard
Jim Latham from Broadcast Training (BJTC)
Siobhan Curham, who is a writer and freelance journalist
Gina Antchandie from the Arts Council
Maxim Ford who is a documentary film maker.
Each of them gave a small talk on how they got to where they were in the world and gave general tips and pointers to anyone wanting to enter into the media world.
The people I found most helpful were:
Becky Hogge, who was a personality; I found her talk really interesting. She was easy to relate to because she was quite near to our age being just 27. It was good listening to her story, as although she works in the media world, she does not have an NCTJ qualification or a journalism degree. In fact, she took a degree in linguistics.
From starting out as a dance music journalist, to a business journalist, she said she started writing about her passion which was technology. She now works for Open Democracy and has a weekly column in the New Statesman.
Her three tips to us were pretty simple:-
1) Use your contacts, people you know. Tell their story.
2) You need a lot of confidence in this business.
3) Not to get caught up in your own ego and take criticism.
The third is something I really need to do; I take criticism far too personally. Instead, I need to listen to what the person is saying and take it on board. It’s not always a personal attack. Becky also said what David and Chris have been saying all along, that if you have a blog, then you’re already a step ahead in the journalism world.
Amar Singh was very helpful. I really like what he had to say. He told us that journalism is not always a straight path, and definitely not predictable.
Amar actually went to Westminster University and graduated in Broadcast Journalism. I love the fact that he now works for a newspaper, because as a print journalist I would one day like to do some broadcast work.
He started out by being a runner for a film company, which is terrible pay apparently! But he said you have to learn from your experiences, and although he was only making tea for producers, he made a lot of contacts.
He’s worked on Asian magazines and newspapers including Eastern Eye and Asia Weekly. He became an editor for the latter, but decided he did not want to just be hiring and firing people as a career. Through contact with the Evening Standard, he became a journalist and has not looked back since.
His tips to us were:-
1) When looking for work, be persistent.
2) When freelancing, always be networking (make business cards, hand them out)
3) Everyone is a contact potential. You never know when you’ll need a person’s number.
Maxim Ford
Maxim was a student at a polish film school, and so learnt all about the culture and language of the country. He made a film on the political situation in Poland , but said that this was not so much because of his film making talent, as much as it was because he spoke polish.
He said the money available for making films and documentaries has decreased. When Channel Four was first starting out, he got £100, 000 pounds as a budget. Apparently it’s not that easy to get so much money now.
It was also mentioned that developing film used to very laborious and now the media has moved on. A high definition camera (about £3-4000) is available along with editing machines, which leads to a lot of individual film making.
I talked to him after the presentation and asked him a few questions about how to get into the industry of documentary making. He told me that you need to:-
1) Find out what are of film making you want to go into.
2) What aspect of that you want to do, i.e production, presentation of.
3) Find out names and contacts for people in the area of documentaries that you are interested in and approach them.
He made it sound quite simple really, I wonder if it so?
Siobhan Curham started off as a freelance journalist. She does not have a degree, but told us a weird story about how she got a diploma in freelance journalism.
Basically, she applied through the back of a newspaper, to ‘The Morris School of Journalism’, she told us she had not heard of it either. She got her diploma by sending off a cheque and completing various random assignments.
Although graduating with a distinction, she wondered if that was just what part of the money was for, to guarantee it. I am sure she is being very modest.
Siobhan told us she got her first article published in the magazine ‘That’s Life’. It was about pregnancy. She told us to write about something that related to ourselves, but to slant it differently. She made her story different by writing about the fact that she did not enjoy her pregnancy.
Siobhan has now written four books, and writes articles for the ‘Wolverhampton version of the Evening Standard’. I was amused when she said she considered herself similar to Carrie Bradshaw. (make link here)
Jim Latham from the BJTC explained the role of the BJTC to us, and warned us about some of the implications of work experience.
These were:
The fact that we need to be careful about people exploiting us when on work experience. He explained that a girl recently was working for a company and was sent to find a place in London that would allow a party with hard drugs. Of course people are willing to do mostly anything for that first chance he said, but if the police got involved, who do you think would immediately get blamed?
This was something I had not thought about before if I am honest, but I am glad he made us aware of it.
If you do a work placement, if it is longer than four weeks than the company has to pay you after that time.
He also explained to us the issue of ethnic and social diversity. Four years ago, 96% of journalists were white and middleclass, today this figure has decreased to 90%. Jim said that it needs a continued effort to get a proper representation of people who represent this country.
I think he is definitely right, Britain is multicultural and is a real shame that this is not more represented by journalists who write on behalf of the public.
Over all
I think that the whole afternoon was a major success. I really did learn a lot, I am just quite angry that it was not publicised more to say it was quite important.
To say we were on a journalism course, with such a precedent placed on the importance of networking, nobody told us about it. We were only given the time off this afternoon because somebody mentioned it at all. But we did get to go, and it’s been one of the most informative afternoons I have had about general journalism. I wonder if the university will arrange more of the same. Perhaps if we suggested it to them, it would happen again? I hope so.
These people were:
Becky Hogge from Open Democracy
Amar Singh from The Evening Standard
Jim Latham from Broadcast Training (BJTC)
Siobhan Curham, who is a writer and freelance journalist
Gina Antchandie from the Arts Council
Maxim Ford who is a documentary film maker.
Each of them gave a small talk on how they got to where they were in the world and gave general tips and pointers to anyone wanting to enter into the media world.
The people I found most helpful were:
Becky Hogge, who was a personality; I found her talk really interesting. She was easy to relate to because she was quite near to our age being just 27. It was good listening to her story, as although she works in the media world, she does not have an NCTJ qualification or a journalism degree. In fact, she took a degree in linguistics.
From starting out as a dance music journalist, to a business journalist, she said she started writing about her passion which was technology. She now works for Open Democracy and has a weekly column in the New Statesman.
Her three tips to us were pretty simple:-
1) Use your contacts, people you know. Tell their story.
2) You need a lot of confidence in this business.
3) Not to get caught up in your own ego and take criticism.
The third is something I really need to do; I take criticism far too personally. Instead, I need to listen to what the person is saying and take it on board. It’s not always a personal attack. Becky also said what David and Chris have been saying all along, that if you have a blog, then you’re already a step ahead in the journalism world.
Amar Singh was very helpful. I really like what he had to say. He told us that journalism is not always a straight path, and definitely not predictable.
Amar actually went to Westminster University and graduated in Broadcast Journalism. I love the fact that he now works for a newspaper, because as a print journalist I would one day like to do some broadcast work.
He started out by being a runner for a film company, which is terrible pay apparently! But he said you have to learn from your experiences, and although he was only making tea for producers, he made a lot of contacts.
He’s worked on Asian magazines and newspapers including Eastern Eye and Asia Weekly. He became an editor for the latter, but decided he did not want to just be hiring and firing people as a career. Through contact with the Evening Standard, he became a journalist and has not looked back since.
His tips to us were:-
1) When looking for work, be persistent.
2) When freelancing, always be networking (make business cards, hand them out)
3) Everyone is a contact potential. You never know when you’ll need a person’s number.
Maxim Ford
Maxim was a student at a polish film school, and so learnt all about the culture and language of the country. He made a film on the political situation in Poland , but said that this was not so much because of his film making talent, as much as it was because he spoke polish.
He said the money available for making films and documentaries has decreased. When Channel Four was first starting out, he got £100, 000 pounds as a budget. Apparently it’s not that easy to get so much money now.
It was also mentioned that developing film used to very laborious and now the media has moved on. A high definition camera (about £3-4000) is available along with editing machines, which leads to a lot of individual film making.
I talked to him after the presentation and asked him a few questions about how to get into the industry of documentary making. He told me that you need to:-
1) Find out what are of film making you want to go into.
2) What aspect of that you want to do, i.e production, presentation of.
3) Find out names and contacts for people in the area of documentaries that you are interested in and approach them.
He made it sound quite simple really, I wonder if it so?
Siobhan Curham started off as a freelance journalist. She does not have a degree, but told us a weird story about how she got a diploma in freelance journalism.
Basically, she applied through the back of a newspaper, to ‘The Morris School of Journalism’, she told us she had not heard of it either. She got her diploma by sending off a cheque and completing various random assignments.
Although graduating with a distinction, she wondered if that was just what part of the money was for, to guarantee it. I am sure she is being very modest.
Siobhan told us she got her first article published in the magazine ‘That’s Life’. It was about pregnancy. She told us to write about something that related to ourselves, but to slant it differently. She made her story different by writing about the fact that she did not enjoy her pregnancy.
Siobhan has now written four books, and writes articles for the ‘Wolverhampton version of the Evening Standard’. I was amused when she said she considered herself similar to Carrie Bradshaw. (make link here)
Jim Latham from the BJTC explained the role of the BJTC to us, and warned us about some of the implications of work experience.
These were:
The fact that we need to be careful about people exploiting us when on work experience. He explained that a girl recently was working for a company and was sent to find a place in London that would allow a party with hard drugs. Of course people are willing to do mostly anything for that first chance he said, but if the police got involved, who do you think would immediately get blamed?
This was something I had not thought about before if I am honest, but I am glad he made us aware of it.
If you do a work placement, if it is longer than four weeks than the company has to pay you after that time.
He also explained to us the issue of ethnic and social diversity. Four years ago, 96% of journalists were white and middleclass, today this figure has decreased to 90%. Jim said that it needs a continued effort to get a proper representation of people who represent this country.
I think he is definitely right, Britain is multicultural and is a real shame that this is not more represented by journalists who write on behalf of the public.
Over all
I think that the whole afternoon was a major success. I really did learn a lot, I am just quite angry that it was not publicised more to say it was quite important.
To say we were on a journalism course, with such a precedent placed on the importance of networking, nobody told us about it. We were only given the time off this afternoon because somebody mentioned it at all. But we did get to go, and it’s been one of the most informative afternoons I have had about general journalism. I wonder if the university will arrange more of the same. Perhaps if we suggested it to them, it would happen again? I hope so.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Something Wicked This Way Comes.
Well after many months of waiting, I finally got my dream come true.
I got to go and see the musical Wicked! I have waited a long, long time for this and it really was worth it.
I went adorned with a pointy hat, stripy socks and ruby slippers. Of course, I ended up being the ONLY person dressed up.
But never mind, on with the show.
Wicked is based on the book by Gregory Maguire, it is the untold story of the witches of Oz.
I have recently started reading the book, but apparently the musical is somewhat different.
The story centres on Elphaba (The Green Witch) and Galinda (‘With a Ga!’ [the Good witch]).
It tells of how the witches came to be known as the Wicked and Good witches. There are quite a lot of politics and surprises in it, which I will not give away here.
Idina Menzel is such a brilliant Elphaba. She was in the original broadway version of the show and won an award for this role. She is Elphaba. The sarcasm and the wit are spot on. And after the show your hair will be windswept, her voice is that powerful.
Wicked answers a few questions that the original film of Oz did not, such as:
1) Why is the Wicked Witch Green?
2) Why does Dorothy decide to trust in the Wizard so easily? Is it only on reputation?
3) How and why did the Tin man, Lion and Scare Crow all end up the way they did?
4) Why on earth does the Wicked Witch want the ruby slippers so much?
After such a good musical, the ending disappointed me, but perhaps I am not one for happy endings? They're too easy.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
101 Stropping Things to do Wickedly in Prison Naked
Short hand and Stropping
Last night I had a massive strop about short hand. I was doing the home work last minute, and I could just not do it. Nothing was going through my head.
I had also been doing my presentation all day, so my head was screwed. Sometimes things just get on top of you, and all you want to do is stomp your feet.
Funny how this isn’t allowed.
Why aren’t I allowed to scream at the top of my voice and lose all composure if I am not happy? It’s not the done thing I suppose.
It wouldn’t be ‘grown up’ now would it? So I did it anyway, and it made me feel much better.
This morning, I came back to doing it and it was all fine, I just needed 8 hours sleep. Ho hum.
I also find the last half hour of that class the worst half hour of maybe the week. My head is fuzzy, the letters all join together and become one huge blend.
Wicked
I have wanted to see the musical Wicked since approximately forever (timing might not be an accurate assessment of the wanting).
And when I entered the Junction on Tuesday night to start the nights drunken procedures I heard ‘SAAAAAAARAAAAH’.
I did not turn around. There are normally far too many Sarah’s for it to me that’s being called.
Anyway, it happened again, so I turned around and a huge afro full of Nicola (my arts editor) ran towards me.
She told me that I was going to see Wicked for FREE next Wednesday. It has made my life.
Prison
I am finding my room in halls, to be a prison when it comes to working. I need to find other places to work. I think I may go and work underneath the trees in Northwick Park today.
Perhaps being one with nature might help me to become Einstein! I could even become a nudist. If you happen to see a nekkid person stomping on their short hand book, well I’ll say no more.
101 things
I have been reading The Dice man by Luke Rhinehart and decided that my life is not nearly random enough. I have a book called 101 things to do before you die. I am going to pick a number at random from it and then do it.
Of course if this involves anything illegal, then all the better. One of the options is travelling around the world, I might avoid this for now. I will keep you posted.
Last night I had a massive strop about short hand. I was doing the home work last minute, and I could just not do it. Nothing was going through my head.
I had also been doing my presentation all day, so my head was screwed. Sometimes things just get on top of you, and all you want to do is stomp your feet.
Funny how this isn’t allowed.
Why aren’t I allowed to scream at the top of my voice and lose all composure if I am not happy? It’s not the done thing I suppose.
It wouldn’t be ‘grown up’ now would it? So I did it anyway, and it made me feel much better.
This morning, I came back to doing it and it was all fine, I just needed 8 hours sleep. Ho hum.
I also find the last half hour of that class the worst half hour of maybe the week. My head is fuzzy, the letters all join together and become one huge blend.
Wicked
I have wanted to see the musical Wicked since approximately forever (timing might not be an accurate assessment of the wanting).
And when I entered the Junction on Tuesday night to start the nights drunken procedures I heard ‘SAAAAAAARAAAAH’.
I did not turn around. There are normally far too many Sarah’s for it to me that’s being called.
Anyway, it happened again, so I turned around and a huge afro full of Nicola (my arts editor) ran towards me.
She told me that I was going to see Wicked for FREE next Wednesday. It has made my life.
Prison
I am finding my room in halls, to be a prison when it comes to working. I need to find other places to work. I think I may go and work underneath the trees in Northwick Park today.
Perhaps being one with nature might help me to become Einstein! I could even become a nudist. If you happen to see a nekkid person stomping on their short hand book, well I’ll say no more.
101 things
I have been reading The Dice man by Luke Rhinehart and decided that my life is not nearly random enough. I have a book called 101 things to do before you die. I am going to pick a number at random from it and then do it.
Of course if this involves anything illegal, then all the better. One of the options is travelling around the world, I might avoid this for now. I will keep you posted.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Birds, smoke and sponges.
I moved to the big smoke about 6 weeks ago.
Life has been much the same and very different since.
The journalism course that I am doing is the thing that is most different. When I did English Literature in York, there was very little contact time with the lecturers and class time was even less.
It is a weird and gratifying experience to have so much contact with the people teaching you, who also have a lot of time for their students.
I realise the hours of the classroom are needed because we are on an intensive one year course to teach something completely different (in some cases) to what we have done before. We are being taught a profession.
I sometimes feel very dazed by all of it; it is easy to become overwhelmed with the information being given to us. All of it is essential, and more importantly it is actually worth knowing. I couldn’t always say the same for Eng Lit.
It’s slowly beginning to seep in though. Learning short hand is becoming easier. At first all I saw were random symbols.
Then I saw images like birds and trees (if you’re pushing the imagination) in those symbols. But now I am beginning to see the formation of words with the birds and the trees.
I am not entirely sure about the writing side of journalism yet. I realise that I must have a niche for writing to some degree or I would not be here. Ho hum.
Sometimes though, I do feel a little out of my depth. Especially when our lecturer Chris Horrie is teaching us, there is a lot of information to absorb. I must become sponge like.
I feel like there is a lot of history and general culture that I have to study as well to maintain a realistic grasp of today’s news. You can’t really have one without the other.
Back to the books then.
Life has been much the same and very different since.
The journalism course that I am doing is the thing that is most different. When I did English Literature in York, there was very little contact time with the lecturers and class time was even less.
It is a weird and gratifying experience to have so much contact with the people teaching you, who also have a lot of time for their students.
I realise the hours of the classroom are needed because we are on an intensive one year course to teach something completely different (in some cases) to what we have done before. We are being taught a profession.
I sometimes feel very dazed by all of it; it is easy to become overwhelmed with the information being given to us. All of it is essential, and more importantly it is actually worth knowing. I couldn’t always say the same for Eng Lit.
It’s slowly beginning to seep in though. Learning short hand is becoming easier. At first all I saw were random symbols.
Then I saw images like birds and trees (if you’re pushing the imagination) in those symbols. But now I am beginning to see the formation of words with the birds and the trees.
I am not entirely sure about the writing side of journalism yet. I realise that I must have a niche for writing to some degree or I would not be here. Ho hum.
Sometimes though, I do feel a little out of my depth. Especially when our lecturer Chris Horrie is teaching us, there is a lot of information to absorb. I must become sponge like.
I feel like there is a lot of history and general culture that I have to study as well to maintain a realistic grasp of today’s news. You can’t really have one without the other.
Back to the books then.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Review
For my 'News Agenda' class, we have to review a book, so I decided to do one I had recently read:
Review of the book We Need to Talk about Kevin by Lionel Shriver
Kevin Khatchadourian killed seven of his fellow high school students, a cafeteria worker and a teacher, shortly before his sixteenth birthday.
It is the mother of Kevin, who narrates the story, through a series of letters to her separated husband.
Eva informs the reader of the life of Kevin, through these letters and wonders how much she is to blame for her son’s ‘flawed’ character.
Shriver explores the theme of Nature versus Nurture and it’s relation to the human psyche. This makes the reader question the motives of the youths who commit high school murders.
It is a frank account of a family’s life through the years, and how we don’t always like the people we love.
It is a great risk to write about something so prominent in the media, especially in America. Yet Shriver pulls it off with her own satirical view of American culture.
The characters are all complicated, layered and trapped within their own personalities.
Shriver investigates her characters limitations and their relation to one another in the confined space of the family home.
Who actually needs to talk about Kevin? Maybe we all do.
Review of the book We Need to Talk about Kevin by Lionel Shriver
Kevin Khatchadourian killed seven of his fellow high school students, a cafeteria worker and a teacher, shortly before his sixteenth birthday.
It is the mother of Kevin, who narrates the story, through a series of letters to her separated husband.
Eva informs the reader of the life of Kevin, through these letters and wonders how much she is to blame for her son’s ‘flawed’ character.
Shriver explores the theme of Nature versus Nurture and it’s relation to the human psyche. This makes the reader question the motives of the youths who commit high school murders.
It is a frank account of a family’s life through the years, and how we don’t always like the people we love.
It is a great risk to write about something so prominent in the media, especially in America. Yet Shriver pulls it off with her own satirical view of American culture.
The characters are all complicated, layered and trapped within their own personalities.
Shriver investigates her characters limitations and their relation to one another in the confined space of the family home.
Who actually needs to talk about Kevin? Maybe we all do.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Little Blue Men
I saw these little guys last night:
At the New London Theatre in Convent Garden. They're called 'The Blue Man Group'. I think the best way to describe it is performance art. This is how they started off, as street performers.
The show mainly consists of percussion, drama and comedy. There's a huge audience participation happening in the show. At one point, we were all passing masses of toilet roll from the back of the audience to the stage. A stream of the stuff everywhere!
When I looked around everyone's grinning like a loon at the blue dudes, and at everyone else. Pretty much how I must have looked.
At another point, the three of them leave stage, and a TV screen just floats down onto the stage! (perhaps suspended on strings, but hey let’s pretend.) Then a blue face appears on it. Watch for yourself!:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MsdTeCnnRO4
It’s this and much more that makes the whole show bloody brilliant! It’s about the basics of human communication, bringing in modern and ancient forms of it, using paints, drums, lots and lots of music.
On the way home from this show, I was left with a stupid grin on my face. They make you feel like children because this is exactly how they act! It's brilliant.
You have to see this show!
I am interviewing them this Thursday for the student magazine. Wheeee.
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