Journal

Monday, June 16, 2003

Macleod. Not Mccloud. Macleod. Not McCloud, 500 times...

On June 16:

"...when I get to chat to proper lefties like Ken McCloud or China Mieville..."

I guess you mean Ken Macleod? That's how he seems generally to be spelt :). How cool to know you're a fan / acquaintance - I picked up The Star Fraction in Oxfam a few months back and enjoyed it immensely. A wry take on left-wing politicking Set In Space doesn't feel like it should work, but somehow does.

Oh, and as a happy footnote to the Radiohead Lyrics Saga I wrote to you about a few weeks ago, it's all been sorted out with no recourse to tears and histrionics - Warner Chappell are going to grant the fan sites free licenses to reproduce the lyrics. So apparently sometimes people can just be nice to each other...how heartening.

-Adam, once more. In case you ever want to place me, I'm the one who's been last in line for the last couple of Manchester signings, with improbably large amounts of stuff. I'm half-hoping you get shunted back into that church next time you're in Manchester, because the reading from American Gods worked brilliantly in there...of course, it'd be nice if they had a more flexible burglar alarm :).


it's Scott McCloud's fault. Scott McCloud is only his pen name. Really, he's Scott MacLeod. Or Mcleod. Or some combination of Mcs or Macs and leods or Leods. And I know this, and make allowances for it, by writing McCloud... But I didn't know it had crept into writing Ken Macleod's name until you pointed it out. All Scott's fault, along with five card nancy.

And Ken is a terrific writer, and a terribly nice man. We met in Finland, of course.

Neil o Neil,
When o when can we see some pictures from Mirror Mask? You're killing me with all the talk about it! Please o please!

keith


I don't know. The moment that Hensons put up a teaser page or an info page, I'll link to it, I promise. Today I saw lots of dailies from the end of the film, and a scene on a bus. Oddly, considering it's been a running topic of conversation on this blog for a year, there were lots of shots of what the Brighton West Pier has now turned into, which is some kind of Dave McKeanesque abstract sculpture, which seemed very appropriate.

On the bus, in the back, there were a couple snogging, much to the disgust of our heroine. I had expected to see them there of course, having written them in the script. But I suddenly felt very out of the process. How were the couple found? Did they know each other before they started shooting? Will they see each other afterward? How much were they paid? Is there an extras agency you call to say "Hullo, I need two teenagers to french kiss each other in the back of a bus. Can you send someone along?"

We may never know.