The life and ramblings of an actor in London who is trying to carve a career for himself in the world of theatre and film. And largely succeeding.
Showing posts with label West End. Show all posts
Showing posts with label West End. Show all posts
Thursday, 21 June 2012
Twitter and How to Use It
Sometimes life has a habit of getting in the way of even the most well planned of things. That is what has happened with my blog of late. Life, in the form of my own insecurities and foibles, has left me rather distracted of late so I have neglected my blog for almost two months.
I shall try, but won't promise, to provide a blog post at least once a month from here on in.
This particular post is being written at the request of one of the most highly regarded headshot photographers around, Mr Michael Wharley.
He is off to the NSDF conference this year and has asked if he can feature me as an example of an actor who uses Twitter effectively. Once I was over the shock of being asked if he can use my Twitter page as an example we talked the topic over a little and I decided that I would blog on the slightly wider topic of "How to Use Twitter if you're an Actor"
Not meaning to sound like I know what I'm talking about, and absolutely not meaning to lecture but it does strike me that there are some very simple rules to follow when using Twitter as a professional tool no matter what your profession.
Firstly there is the little matter of picking your name. Pick it carefully.
As much as your Equity and Spotlight names are your brand name so is your online presence part of the same brand. The fact that your schoolmates might well have called you Wobblybottom or that you really did have an email address that was "punanimaster@...." is something that you need to leave behind you.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, smacks of a lack of professionalism more than having an unprofessional online name. Your email address, even if it's a free web-based email, and your Twitter account are professional tools and need to be treated as such. The simplest solution is to just try to get an account that matches your name as closely as possible. If you have to veer away from that because some other person has already nabbed your name then so be it but don't veer off into the inane or profane.
If you want brand consistency across all platforms then I would suggest looking into sites like NameChk which allows you to check name availability on almost all forms of social media or Know'em which does something very similar but also allows you to check domain name availability and then gives you the option to pay for a service which will register your chosen name on up to 300 websites in one go. Personally I didn't much see the point in the pay service when you really only want to grab the top sites anyway but the option is there to use if you so desire.
Now you've got your page reserved what do you do with it?
This is Twitter we're talking about here so I will stick with that, although these can be extended to other social media sites too of course. Twitter allows you to change the background to your page. So change it. Even if you just tile your main headshot over the page that is something. And use a professional headshot as your avatar too.
I know these may sound like idiot guides but heigh-ho... Now you've set up your page you need to start to follow people. Personally I think there is limited mileage to be gained from following the celebrity Twitterati as you will not really be able to engage them in conversation. (Even if you do you will probably be speaking with the web manager employed to Tweet on behalf of the celeb anyway.) When I started out I found the Twitter accounts for as many of the London Fringe theatres I could find and then followed them. I looked at who they followed and followed them. That way I quickly built up a list of people I was following who were at least interested in theatre.
Read their posts. Reply. Ask questions. And above all else be prepared to help out too. If people need a retweet of one of their messages then retweet it. If you're stuck for something to say then ask who you can help.
I treat Twitter as part of the job of being an actor. Of course it doesn't improve my acting per se, nor will it get you auditions but if you follow film and theatre production companies, directors, and above all else casting directors, then you will hear about things in the pipeline often before they are public knowledge and that gives you a chance to be helpful.
There are some fringe producers out there who will look at a Twitter presence and if you've a growing following on here and someone else has none they will tend to offer parts to the actor who can readily market an upcoming show to their following.
Twitter isn't just about getting bums on seats though. Acting can be a very lonely profession at times and online social media can provide you with support and guidance in those times when you are ready to quit. And everyone has those moments sometimes. If you have engaged with people and shown compassion then you will get compassion back in return.
Speaking personally and entirely subjectively here I can say that there have been times when Twitter has given me room to vent and let off steam and others when it has given me strength and succour to continue. It has also put me in contact with some wonderful people who produce work that I truly admire. Of course, overtime, as you build your own online presence your personality will start to shine through. That is a good thing. You cannot expect to be entirely business focussed all the time and it's to be encouraged to have opinions on things and to Tweet them too.
I have seen people use paid-for Follower tools on Twitter. I decided long ago not to go down that path as even though they would generate a large kick in follower numbers it is doubtful that many of them would be even vaguely interested in theatre, film, or acting in any form so what would be the point of having the number for the sake of the number. I would rather quality over quantity any day.
As I've said before, spend time reading the Tweets from people who you follow. And reply. Twitter is a modern day version of the chat over the garden fence and it's going to be a very dull conversation if only one person talks all the time.
Be proactive. Be helpful. Be mindful too.
By mindfulness I mean don't flood your timeline with a million tweets about your undying love for Justin Beiber/One Direction/Twilight etc. It might well be that you will marry one of them but it gets very dull, very quickly when all you do is tweet about them. So think about what you post. Share the things you like. Share the things you really don't like. Share enough to allow people to see who you are beyond just being an actor.
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Saturday, 31 March 2012
Things are afoot in the land of Actorvist
As some of you, primarily those of you who follow me on Twitter, already know I've not been my usual self recently. I've been battling with a long drawn out period of depression which is somewhat at odds with my creative urges.
The depression not withstanding I've appeared in two plays this year and played a part in two feature films, one a very large budget, high profile franchise and the other a much more modest affair. I've also been thinking about writing a couple of ideas that have been bubbling away in my head for a while.
Well, whilst I've been doing all the above I've resorted to comfort eating.
My depression, when it descends upon me, makes me switch off from delicate little pleasures that one often can find in subtle flavoured foods and seek solace in the huge highs of sugary, or overly spicy, or savory foods. It's like my brain cries out for some kind of stimulation whereas my body needs no energy as I'm not really able to do anything but just function.
So, as I have been known to consume a whole M&S cheesecake in one sitting at times over these past six months I've inevitably put on a few extra pounds. Pounds that I am now determined to drop.
I know that this is nothing to do with acting per se but it is to do with this actor and as such I think it's important to share the highs and lows on here with you all. I stress that I am not looking for sympathy. If anything that would be counter productive, but I ask for your understanding if I am quiet at times, seemingly withdrawn perhaps. Trust me when I say my mind is working overtime analysing the minutia of what's going on around me and probably, misguidedly I admit, leaping to conclusions about who it impacts me.
Depression is not something I would ever trade in for anything else. It's a part of me and it is one I value. Usually it means that something I am doing is not in my best interests even though it seems like it is. It's a yardstick if you like. One to measure my own progress through Life against. OK so it can derail me from time to time but it is valuable and it does give me insight. The slow discovery of what is fundamentally against my own self interest, be it professionally or personally, might well take months but discover it I inevitably do. And this time it's taken almost a year I think but I have slowly had the realisation dawn on me that I am not supporting my acting endeavors to the best of my ability.
I have been guilty of allowing myself to become distracted by ephemera. By the idea of chasing Twitter followers perhaps, of thinking that if only that specific person came on board that specific project that I am involved with then I would suddenly be catapulted into the limelight. I've come to realise and to accept that the person responsible for how my career progresses is me. Just me. It's me that decides what roles to take. It's me that decides if I am prepared to work for nothing other than vague promises of future roles. It's me that has to schedule my time to allow further study and growth. Me. Nobody else. It is also a relatively recent discovery that it is only me that I have to satisfy. I don't have to fret about when I will perform in a "proper theatre" as my parents ask on a weekly basis. Nor do I have to worry about when my name will be above the title of a movie poster on huge billboards.
This is not a sprint. I may well be 45 years old but the time I spent as an economist before becoming an actor is not an impediment that has to be fought against. If anything it's a strength. I do not have to race to being acclaimed a rising star or anything of the sort. All I need to do is to continue to train, continue to stretch myself and above all else continue to remember that I love this business. I love the doubts and fears on stage. I love the camaraderie on a film set. The pressure of the rehearsal room. The tick, tick, tick on a film set when the light is fading and the DoP really doesn't have time to reset the lights to give more time to get the shot before the day wraps. I love it all.
Accepting that I do, and that that really is enough seems to quieten the voice that psychologists call the "Critical Parent" that lies within me as it does with in us all. That voice that says you're not working hard enough. Or suggests that if you haven't written your long awaited screenplay by now you never will. Or calls you fat. Well frankly that voice can go take a long walk off a short pier. I enjoy acting. I enjoy writing. And that's enough.
I know I'm rambling here (as I always do I hear you say!) and I want to wrap up soon so all I will say is that I am lucky. I know I am. I'm lucky enough to have had a greatly rewarding career before I turned to acting and I'm luckier still to have found a second one to follow. I have a great support network of family and friends. The person who hasn't been 100% supportive of me has recently been me. And that has now changed so be prepared to see a change in the me that you meet. I have silenced my own critical parent.
Onwards and upwards! And always, always, remembering how lucky I am.
I forgot to say how helpful one little book has been. And that book is this one... Sunbathing in the Rain by Gwyneth Lewis. It's a remarkable telling of her own journey through depression and out the other side.
The depression not withstanding I've appeared in two plays this year and played a part in two feature films, one a very large budget, high profile franchise and the other a much more modest affair. I've also been thinking about writing a couple of ideas that have been bubbling away in my head for a while.
Well, whilst I've been doing all the above I've resorted to comfort eating.
My depression, when it descends upon me, makes me switch off from delicate little pleasures that one often can find in subtle flavoured foods and seek solace in the huge highs of sugary, or overly spicy, or savory foods. It's like my brain cries out for some kind of stimulation whereas my body needs no energy as I'm not really able to do anything but just function.
So, as I have been known to consume a whole M&S cheesecake in one sitting at times over these past six months I've inevitably put on a few extra pounds. Pounds that I am now determined to drop.
I know that this is nothing to do with acting per se but it is to do with this actor and as such I think it's important to share the highs and lows on here with you all. I stress that I am not looking for sympathy. If anything that would be counter productive, but I ask for your understanding if I am quiet at times, seemingly withdrawn perhaps. Trust me when I say my mind is working overtime analysing the minutia of what's going on around me and probably, misguidedly I admit, leaping to conclusions about who it impacts me.
Depression is not something I would ever trade in for anything else. It's a part of me and it is one I value. Usually it means that something I am doing is not in my best interests even though it seems like it is. It's a yardstick if you like. One to measure my own progress through Life against. OK so it can derail me from time to time but it is valuable and it does give me insight. The slow discovery of what is fundamentally against my own self interest, be it professionally or personally, might well take months but discover it I inevitably do. And this time it's taken almost a year I think but I have slowly had the realisation dawn on me that I am not supporting my acting endeavors to the best of my ability.
I have been guilty of allowing myself to become distracted by ephemera. By the idea of chasing Twitter followers perhaps, of thinking that if only that specific person came on board that specific project that I am involved with then I would suddenly be catapulted into the limelight. I've come to realise and to accept that the person responsible for how my career progresses is me. Just me. It's me that decides what roles to take. It's me that decides if I am prepared to work for nothing other than vague promises of future roles. It's me that has to schedule my time to allow further study and growth. Me. Nobody else. It is also a relatively recent discovery that it is only me that I have to satisfy. I don't have to fret about when I will perform in a "proper theatre" as my parents ask on a weekly basis. Nor do I have to worry about when my name will be above the title of a movie poster on huge billboards.
This is not a sprint. I may well be 45 years old but the time I spent as an economist before becoming an actor is not an impediment that has to be fought against. If anything it's a strength. I do not have to race to being acclaimed a rising star or anything of the sort. All I need to do is to continue to train, continue to stretch myself and above all else continue to remember that I love this business. I love the doubts and fears on stage. I love the camaraderie on a film set. The pressure of the rehearsal room. The tick, tick, tick on a film set when the light is fading and the DoP really doesn't have time to reset the lights to give more time to get the shot before the day wraps. I love it all.
Accepting that I do, and that that really is enough seems to quieten the voice that psychologists call the "Critical Parent" that lies within me as it does with in us all. That voice that says you're not working hard enough. Or suggests that if you haven't written your long awaited screenplay by now you never will. Or calls you fat. Well frankly that voice can go take a long walk off a short pier. I enjoy acting. I enjoy writing. And that's enough.
I know I'm rambling here (as I always do I hear you say!) and I want to wrap up soon so all I will say is that I am lucky. I know I am. I'm lucky enough to have had a greatly rewarding career before I turned to acting and I'm luckier still to have found a second one to follow. I have a great support network of family and friends. The person who hasn't been 100% supportive of me has recently been me. And that has now changed so be prepared to see a change in the me that you meet. I have silenced my own critical parent.
Onwards and upwards! And always, always, remembering how lucky I am.
I forgot to say how helpful one little book has been. And that book is this one... Sunbathing in the Rain by Gwyneth Lewis. It's a remarkable telling of her own journey through depression and out the other side.
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Thursday, 8 March 2012
The Importance of Art
I've been asked once or twice to address this mammoth topic so here goes. Art is important because it reflects life. All life.
There. That's it. In a nutshell that's why Art is important. And I do mean all art. From the beautifully designed and made greetings cards available in the shops to the prints of workmen high on a steel girder in New York available in IKEA, to the cutting edge of theatre via the most mainstream of cinema releases. And in a whole lot of other places I can't even begin to list here for fear of turning this post into a list of places that I can't list.
Personally speaking Art, and the creative industries as a whole, have provided me with escape and allowed me to walk a mile in the shoes of people who I don't know. Hell it's even done that in regard to animals too as I recall feeling every moment of Joey's life played out on stage in War Horse at the National Theatre.
Be it in book form, theatre, cinema or painting I can testify to being personally moved by the experience of seeing something that has sprung from the imagination of another. In fact at my lowest ever ebb I found myself in the National Gallery sitting in awe in front of the Leonardo Cartoon for about two hours. Utterly transfixed. Still, if I'm having a tough time of things emotionally I can often be found sitting in the little darkened room that contains, what I regard, as the highlight of the national collection.
This picture, officially known as the Burlington House Cartoon, but more usually referred to as the Leonardo Cartoon, never fails to move me when I see it. It's unfinished but still it has a perfection in its unfinished state that is beautiful. I know nothing about painting or drawing beyond a very basic understanding of the "magic triangle" but when I see this drawing I know the effect it has on me. It makes my heart soar. It lifts my spirits and it humbles me at the same time.
Being someone who experiences bouts of depression and anxiety at times, finding things, places, people, books, pictures etc, that can remind me of the beauty of Life and of the innate ability of Man to create is phenomenally important. It can't be stressed enough how much I owe to this particular picture.
Many years ago I was feeling so low I would rather have embraced death than faced life. I felt that I couldn't achieve anything of value and that whatever I attempted I would never be able to finish. Then I walked into the National Gallery and found this picture.
It resides behind glass in a little room all by itself near the top of the stairs in the Sainsbury Wing of the gallery. The room is dimly lit. One door in, one door out. One piece of art softly lit so as to accent the fine lines and shading drawn by a master of his craft. And it's not finished. Yet it's perfect. Feet and hands remain nothing other than crude outlines no better than that I could sketch now with a biro and the back of a shopping list. The faces however, and the folds of cloth are phenomenal. The serenity of the faces, the weight of the cloth as it drapes over the bodies. I cannot stress enough how much this picture, in all of its incompleteness, is to me perfect. And it has something intrinsic to it that reproductions of it don't have. It has soul.
Over the years I have toyed with the idea of buying a reproduction, perhaps in the form of a fridge magnet or even possibly a full sized authorised copy where even the paper it's produced on is a perfect copy of the original. Each time I've thought about buying one and hanging it in my home, somewhere I can see it every day, I've shied away after coming to the conclusion that a copy isn't good enough. So I keep my special picture in the National Gallery and if I need to see it then I walk ten minutes down the road and gaze upon it for as long as I need. For no charge.
I know art is a subjective matter, it can't be anything but, however it does surprise me when I sit absorbed in the Leonardo perhaps, or sitting in an auditorium watching a play, how different people are impacted in different ways by the same thing. At the National Gallery I see many people glance at paintings and obviously not "get" them. The same way as when everyone else around you in a theatre is killing themselves with laughter whilst you would really rather kill yourself rather than have to endure more of this particular theatrical torture. The reverse is also true of course and I'm as guilty of loving plays and films that almost everyone else regards as being pure trash. But I don't care. If it moves me, if it entertains me, even better if it challenges me whilst entertaining and moving me, then it's Art. And Art is good.
There. That's it. In a nutshell that's why Art is important. And I do mean all art. From the beautifully designed and made greetings cards available in the shops to the prints of workmen high on a steel girder in New York available in IKEA, to the cutting edge of theatre via the most mainstream of cinema releases. And in a whole lot of other places I can't even begin to list here for fear of turning this post into a list of places that I can't list.
Personally speaking Art, and the creative industries as a whole, have provided me with escape and allowed me to walk a mile in the shoes of people who I don't know. Hell it's even done that in regard to animals too as I recall feeling every moment of Joey's life played out on stage in War Horse at the National Theatre.
Be it in book form, theatre, cinema or painting I can testify to being personally moved by the experience of seeing something that has sprung from the imagination of another. In fact at my lowest ever ebb I found myself in the National Gallery sitting in awe in front of the Leonardo Cartoon for about two hours. Utterly transfixed. Still, if I'm having a tough time of things emotionally I can often be found sitting in the little darkened room that contains, what I regard, as the highlight of the national collection.
This picture, officially known as the Burlington House Cartoon, but more usually referred to as the Leonardo Cartoon, never fails to move me when I see it. It's unfinished but still it has a perfection in its unfinished state that is beautiful. I know nothing about painting or drawing beyond a very basic understanding of the "magic triangle" but when I see this drawing I know the effect it has on me. It makes my heart soar. It lifts my spirits and it humbles me at the same time.
Being someone who experiences bouts of depression and anxiety at times, finding things, places, people, books, pictures etc, that can remind me of the beauty of Life and of the innate ability of Man to create is phenomenally important. It can't be stressed enough how much I owe to this particular picture.
Many years ago I was feeling so low I would rather have embraced death than faced life. I felt that I couldn't achieve anything of value and that whatever I attempted I would never be able to finish. Then I walked into the National Gallery and found this picture.
It resides behind glass in a little room all by itself near the top of the stairs in the Sainsbury Wing of the gallery. The room is dimly lit. One door in, one door out. One piece of art softly lit so as to accent the fine lines and shading drawn by a master of his craft. And it's not finished. Yet it's perfect. Feet and hands remain nothing other than crude outlines no better than that I could sketch now with a biro and the back of a shopping list. The faces however, and the folds of cloth are phenomenal. The serenity of the faces, the weight of the cloth as it drapes over the bodies. I cannot stress enough how much this picture, in all of its incompleteness, is to me perfect. And it has something intrinsic to it that reproductions of it don't have. It has soul.
Over the years I have toyed with the idea of buying a reproduction, perhaps in the form of a fridge magnet or even possibly a full sized authorised copy where even the paper it's produced on is a perfect copy of the original. Each time I've thought about buying one and hanging it in my home, somewhere I can see it every day, I've shied away after coming to the conclusion that a copy isn't good enough. So I keep my special picture in the National Gallery and if I need to see it then I walk ten minutes down the road and gaze upon it for as long as I need. For no charge.
I know art is a subjective matter, it can't be anything but, however it does surprise me when I sit absorbed in the Leonardo perhaps, or sitting in an auditorium watching a play, how different people are impacted in different ways by the same thing. At the National Gallery I see many people glance at paintings and obviously not "get" them. The same way as when everyone else around you in a theatre is killing themselves with laughter whilst you would really rather kill yourself rather than have to endure more of this particular theatrical torture. The reverse is also true of course and I'm as guilty of loving plays and films that almost everyone else regards as being pure trash. But I don't care. If it moves me, if it entertains me, even better if it challenges me whilst entertaining and moving me, then it's Art. And Art is good.
Monday, 16 May 2011
Procrastination
Honestly, if procrastination was an Olympic sport I'd be a sure thing to win gold at 2012.
I'm sure you all know the situation. I've got lines to learn, and others to refresh, and what am I doing? Well suffice to say the kitchen's not been so clean in years, the cats are both nicely groomed and content after being bathed (yes bathed) dried and groomed, and I can confidently inform you all that the macaroons from the Covent Garden branch of Laduree are literally divine.
After my four and a bit mile run this morning I popped into Laduree to pick myself up a little treat and the woman behind the counter greeted me with a smile and said, "Bonjour Monsieur! Do you know we 'av only been open for, erm, quatre days and you 'ave been in every single one so 'av a macaroon on ze huis!"
I'm not quite sure where she originally came from but I'm guessing it's not Essex.
Moving on, I'm sitting here with a screenplay open, and I have an odd way of learning lines. Simple repetition doesn't do it for me unless it's a monologue. I wish it did. It would be simpler that what I have to do instead. For I have to retype the entire script out with all the other character dialogue on the right hand side of the page and mine on the left. Honestly I've no idea why I need to do it this way, but currently I do. So, laptop open, printer cartridges full, paper loaded, coffee made, cats asleep I open up a New Document page in Open Office... and I type... a whole line. Not even mine but a whole line nevertheless. And then the phone rings.
"Hello mum"
"Oh hello...."
"What do you mean 'Oh hello'? You dialled me!"
"Oh yes.. well I... oh never mind...How did your audition go at the weekend?"
"That one in Cambridge?"
"Yes that's the one, we're looking forward to having a trip out to see you somewhere nice like that, and in a proper play at last.."
"A 'proper play'? So those Shakespeare and Ibsen ones you came to see weren't 'proper'?"
"You know what I mean. In a proper theatre. With a box office..."
and so that conversation went on for about 20 more minutes. After which I obviously needed a little pick-me-up so I decided to pop to Laduree and grab a little macaroon... I didn't even get there because I bumped into an old friend, someone I trained with, who was on his way to meet an agent who I know socially. He suggests I come along to say Hi, which I do. Anyway, 2 hours after popping out to grab a little something as a pick me up I'm back home. Looking at the same document open on my laptop. The same one line glaring out from the screen and the same 142 pages of screenplay to go through.... and then my inbox pings and I've got email... I click on it and it's someone asking me to contribute to her new blog... Just random thoughts and stuff about being an actor in London just starting out etc... I make like the man from Del Monte and say Yes and then start thinking. Hold on, I thought, I used to make a living out of writing random stuff so why not do it again? And if I was going to do it, then why not put it on my own blog instead of giving it to someone else to use?
Great! I'll write a blog! Now, if only I knew how to go about hosting one... do I want to be "Anon" so I can be brutally honest, or will I put my name to it? I decided to go semi-anon as I've posted the blog address on Twitter and Facebook so it's not exactly hard to find out who I am.... Of course I will reveal more as I reveal more about the life of the man behind the actor's mask... Now I really ought to get on with some work.. oh hold on, Deal or No Deal's on!
I'm sure you all know the situation. I've got lines to learn, and others to refresh, and what am I doing? Well suffice to say the kitchen's not been so clean in years, the cats are both nicely groomed and content after being bathed (yes bathed) dried and groomed, and I can confidently inform you all that the macaroons from the Covent Garden branch of Laduree are literally divine.
After my four and a bit mile run this morning I popped into Laduree to pick myself up a little treat and the woman behind the counter greeted me with a smile and said, "Bonjour Monsieur! Do you know we 'av only been open for, erm, quatre days and you 'ave been in every single one so 'av a macaroon on ze huis!"
I'm not quite sure where she originally came from but I'm guessing it's not Essex.
Moving on, I'm sitting here with a screenplay open, and I have an odd way of learning lines. Simple repetition doesn't do it for me unless it's a monologue. I wish it did. It would be simpler that what I have to do instead. For I have to retype the entire script out with all the other character dialogue on the right hand side of the page and mine on the left. Honestly I've no idea why I need to do it this way, but currently I do. So, laptop open, printer cartridges full, paper loaded, coffee made, cats asleep I open up a New Document page in Open Office... and I type... a whole line. Not even mine but a whole line nevertheless. And then the phone rings.
"Hello mum"
"Oh hello...."
"What do you mean 'Oh hello'? You dialled me!"
"Oh yes.. well I... oh never mind...How did your audition go at the weekend?"
"That one in Cambridge?"
"Yes that's the one, we're looking forward to having a trip out to see you somewhere nice like that, and in a proper play at last.."
"A 'proper play'? So those Shakespeare and Ibsen ones you came to see weren't 'proper'?"
"You know what I mean. In a proper theatre. With a box office..."
and so that conversation went on for about 20 more minutes. After which I obviously needed a little pick-me-up so I decided to pop to Laduree and grab a little macaroon... I didn't even get there because I bumped into an old friend, someone I trained with, who was on his way to meet an agent who I know socially. He suggests I come along to say Hi, which I do. Anyway, 2 hours after popping out to grab a little something as a pick me up I'm back home. Looking at the same document open on my laptop. The same one line glaring out from the screen and the same 142 pages of screenplay to go through.... and then my inbox pings and I've got email... I click on it and it's someone asking me to contribute to her new blog... Just random thoughts and stuff about being an actor in London just starting out etc... I make like the man from Del Monte and say Yes and then start thinking. Hold on, I thought, I used to make a living out of writing random stuff so why not do it again? And if I was going to do it, then why not put it on my own blog instead of giving it to someone else to use?
Great! I'll write a blog! Now, if only I knew how to go about hosting one... do I want to be "Anon" so I can be brutally honest, or will I put my name to it? I decided to go semi-anon as I've posted the blog address on Twitter and Facebook so it's not exactly hard to find out who I am.... Of course I will reveal more as I reveal more about the life of the man behind the actor's mask... Now I really ought to get on with some work.. oh hold on, Deal or No Deal's on!
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