Ever since I was a wee nipper, Christmas Day always started at 2pm (our family were always late risers...) when Top of The Pops was on BBC One, Christmas Day. We'd emerge from our respective bedrooms, and open our presents to the latest bangin' tunes of 1987, with occasional home camera footage. Which is quite scary twenty years on.
Fortunately, while we've ditched the self-filming thing, opening our presents to the tune of Top of The Pops is something we still do now on the odd times we do get together at Christmas - much to the bemusement of the strangers from the outside.
And now the BBC have cancelled Christmas Top Of The Pops. Bah, harumph and all that. We've cancelled Christmas in protest.
Despite having spent most of my life writing words for websites (and project proposals, that sort of thing), and having had two jobs with the word "Editor" in the title, I've never really considered myself a writer.
Recently, I was asked to write a short article for Ariel, the BBC's internal corporate newspaper. On a topic I knew a lot about, indeed, that I somewhat relished.
However, I kept putting it off week after week until finally, today, I was told that I had to get it to the editor by lunchtime or knives and screams would be heard. So I knuckled down, looked at the few notes I'd made, and in an hour, I'd turned out 425 words of prose that's almost professional. It's elegant, the end references the beginning, and it's one of the best articles I think I've written. And I knocked it out in less than an hour.
I'd whip myself even more about being such a procrastinating fool about it, but it seems I'm not that alone. Douglas Adams famously declared that "I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by." Most of the emails that Russell T Davies sends out in The Writer's Tale are of him either avoiding starting work on a script, procrastinating over working on a script, or the insane things that happen as he tries to finish his work to deadline.
What is it about writing that encourages procrastination to such an extent? How is it I can quickly knock off a blog entry, no problem, but trying to write an article causes huge amounts of internal angst? How come editors don't want to strangle their contributors at every available opportunity? And how can I stop procrastination in the unlikely event I ever get asked to write another article?
Despite having spent most of my life writing words for websites (and project proposals, that sort of thing), and having had two jobs with the word "Editor" in the title, I've never really considered myself a writer.
Recently, I was asked to write a short article for Ariel, the BBC's internal corporate newspaper. On a topic I knew a lot about, indeed, that I somewhat relished.
However, I kept putting it off week after week until finally, today, I was told that I had to get it to the editor by lunchtime or knives and screams would be heard. So I knuckled down, looked at the few notes I'd made, and in an hour, I'd turned out 425 words of prose that's almost professional. It's elegant, the end references the beginning, and it's one of the best articles I think I've written. And I knocked it out in less than an hour.
I'd whip myself even more about being such a procrastinating fool about it, but it seems I'm not that alone. Douglas Adams famously declared that "I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by." Most of the emails that Russell T Davies sends out in The Writer's Tale are of him either avoiding starting work on a script, procrastinating over working on a script, or the insane things that happen as he tries to finish his work to deadline.
What is it about writing that encourages procrastination to such an extent? How is it I can quickly knock off a blog entry, no problem, but trying to write an article causes huge amounts of internal angst? How come editors don't want to strangle their contributors at every available opportunity? And how can I stop procrastination in the unlikely event I ever get asked to write another article?
Despite having spent most of my life writing words for websites (and project proposals, that sort of thing), and having had two jobs with the word "Editor" in the title, I've never really considered myself a writer.
Recently, I was asked to write a short article for Ariel, the BBC's internal corporate newspaper. On a topic I knew a lot about, indeed, that I somewhat relished.
However, I kept putting it off week after week until finally, today, I was told that I had to get it to the editor by lunchtime or knives and screams would be heard. So I knuckled down, looked at the few notes I'd made, and in an hour, I'd turned out 425 words of prose that's almost professional. It's elegant, the end references the beginning, and it's one of the best articles I think I've written. And I knocked it out in less than an hour.
I'd whip myself even more about being such a procrastinating fool about it, but it seems I'm not that alone. Douglas Adams famously declared that "I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by." Most of the emails that Russell T Davies sends out in The Writer's Tale are of him either avoiding starting work on a script, procrastinating over working on a script, or the insane things that happen as he tries to finish his work to deadline.
What is it about writing that encourages procrastination to such an extent? How is it I can quickly knock off a blog entry, no problem, but trying to write an article causes huge amounts of internal angst? How come editors don't want to strangle their contributors at every available opportunity? And how can I stop procrastination in the unlikely event I ever get asked to write another article?
A work blogger I respect recently made a joke about their local Chinese takeaway mixing their Ls and their Rs when making a mythical dish. The in-house work magazine recently pointed out a menu slip-up meaning that a dish was described as "Lice" instead of rice, not noting that the two letters are very very far apart on the keyboard.
Naturally, that's immediately raised my hackles and slightly offended me, but I can't decide if it's racist or not. On one hand, people do impersonations of Polish or Birmingham accents all the time. On the other hand, said jokes wouldn't work if you were attributing them to a Turkish takeaway.
Then again, my native-Chinese mandarin teacher habitually mixes up her Ls and her Rs, which rather rankles with me internally. Oh, and the cartoon illustrations in the textbook she uses helpfully distinguish Chinese people by giving them slanted eyes.
*sigh* Oh it's so confusing. But I definitely feel a whiff of genuine offence.
A work blogger I respect recently made a joke about their local Chinese takeaway mixing their Ls and their Rs when making a mythical dish. The in-house work magazine recently pointed out a menu slip-up meaning that a dish was described as "Lice" instead of rice, not noting that the two letters are very very far apart on the keyboard.
Naturally, that's immediately raised my hackles and slightly offended me, but I can't decide if it's racist or not. On one hand, people do impersonations of Polish or Birmingham accents all the time. On the other hand, said jokes wouldn't work if you were attributing them to a Turkish takeaway.
Then again, my native-Chinese mandarin teacher habitually mixes up her Ls and her Rs, which rather rankles with me internally. Oh, and the cartoon illustrations in the textbook she uses helpfully distinguish Chinese people by giving them slanted eyes.
*sigh* Oh it's so confusing. But I definitely feel a whiff of genuine offence.
When it was announced that Sarah Silverman would be gracing London with her presence, a few of my more adventurours comedy friends were excited. At least until the price of £40 a ticket was revealed, at which point my friends slowly backed away from the idea of buying a ticket.
Personally, I'm not sure why it's funny to laugh at/with a skinny white Jewish woman making a complete balls-up about hot taboo topics like racism and AIDS. I'm fairly sure most grandmothers do the same thing, for a start. But then I've never really liked The Office or South Park either - what's so funny about five-year-olds saying naughty things? (I will readily admit to loving the South Park Movie - for whatever reason, that so works as a spoof of musicals).
It would seem that having actually watched Ms Silverman, many London fans were bitterly disappointed when they spent £40 and only got 35 minutes of her performance, followed by a rather weak Q&A when she revealed that she had no more material. A fair bit of heckling and boo'ing ensued...
Why would you fly 6 hours across the Atlantic to perform just 35 minutes of material that you've performed before - especially considering she'd done the publicity circuit that weekend, miming a blowjob with Ricky Gervais on Friday Night with Jonathan Ross. She might have been very scared by the London audience and their vibe of "C'mon, impress me" - but then, she's played New York. And if you can break that crowd...
Anyway, bring on Eddie Izzard in December. Although he's cost me £50 a ticket...
When it was announced that Sarah Silverman would be gracing London with her presence, a few of my more adventurours comedy friends were excited. At least until the price of £40 a ticket was revealed, at which point my friends slowly backed away from the idea of buying a ticket.
Personally, I'm not sure why they find it funny to laugh at a skinny white Jewish woman making a complete balls-up about hot taboo topics like racism and AIDS. I'm fairly sure most grandmothers do the same thing, for a start. But then I've never really liked The Office or South Park either - what's so funny about five-year-olds saying naughty things? (I will readily admit to loving the South Park Movie - for whatever reason, that so works as a spoof of musicals).
It would seem that having actually watched Ms Silverman, many London fans were bitterly disappointed when they spent £40 and only got 35 minutes of her performance, followed by a rather weak Q&A when she revealed that she had no more material. A fair bit of heckling and boo'ing ensued...
Why would you fly 6 hours across the Atlantic to perform just 35 minutes of material that you've performed before - especially considering she'd done the publicity circuit that weekend, miming a blowjob with Ricky Gervais on Friday Night with Jonathan Ross. She might have been very scared by the London audience and their vibe of "C'mon, impress me" - but then, she's played New York. And if you can break that crowd...
Anyway, bring on Eddie Izzard in December. Although he's cost me £50 a ticket...
When it was announced that Sarah Silverman would be gracing London with her presence, a few of my more adventurours comedy friends were excited. At least until the price of £40 a ticket was revealed, at which point my friends slowly backed away from the idea of buying a ticket.
Personally, I'm not sure why they find it funny to laugh at a skinny white Jewish woman making a complete balls-up about hot taboo topics like racism and AIDS. I'm fairly sure most grandmothers do the same thing, for a start. But then I've never really liked The Office or South Park either - what's so funny about five-year-olds saying naughty things? (I will readily admit to loving the South Park Movie - for whatever reason, that so works as a spoof of musicals).
It would seem that having actually had to face Ms Silverman, many London fans were rather disappointed when they spent £40 and only got 35 minutes of her performance, followed by a rather weak Q&A when she revealed that she had no more material.
I'm not too sure why you'd fly 6 hours across the Atlantic to perform just 35 minutes of material that you've performed before - especially considering she'd done the publicity circuit that weekend, miming a blowjob with Ricky Gervais on Friday Night with Jonathan Ross.
Anyway, bring on Eddie Izzard in December. Although he's cost me £50 a ticket...
When it was announced that Sarah Silverman would be gracing London with her presence, a few of my more adventurours comedy friends were excited. At least until the price of £40 a ticket was revealed, at which point my friends slowly backed away from the idea of buying a ticket.
Personally, I'm not sure why they find it funny to laugh at a skinny white Jewish woman making a complete balls-up about hot taboo topics like racism and AIDS. I'm fairly sure most grandmothers do the same thing, for a start. But then I've never really liked The Office or South Park either - what's so funny about five-year-olds saying naughty things? (I will readily admit to loving the South Park Movie - for whatever reason, that so works as a spoof of musicals).
It would seem that having actually had to face Ms Silverman, many London fans were rather disappointed when they spent £40 and only got an hour of her performance, followed by a rather weak Q&A when she revealed that she had no more material.
I'm not too sure why you'd fly 6 hours across the Atlantic to perform just 60 minutes of material that you've performed before - especially considering she'd done the publicity circuit that weekend, miming a blowjob with Ricky Gervais on Friday Night with Jonathan Ross.
Anyway, bring on Eddie Izzard in December. Although he's cost me £50 a ticket...
