What do you do when…
You don’t have to get up at 5:45am and try to beat 7 other people to the shower?
You don’t have to run around like a blue-arsed fly for 15 hours straight, before standing up for another 3 hours schmoozing at the Queens Hotel (or possibly Wetherspoons… but certainly not The Playhouse)?
You don’t have to spend from 8am to 4:40pm trying to get one single bloody banner hung from a three-story girls school main hall.
You don’t have to wonder whether it’s healthy to work this number of hours on a Bacon Roll and countless coffee?
You don’t have to risk certain death (Abi), breakdown (Xandria) or visitations from Elvis (Johnny) on your drive in to work?
You don’t have to listen to two conversations at once? Generally questions from delegates in one ear that you can’t hear because Kenny’s impersonating Big Brother through the radio in the other.
Kinda makes you wonder what was actually good about volunteering at the SWF…
…well all I can say is it’s a guilty pleasure that can only really be understood by those that have had the pleasure. I can guarantee you though that not one would ever regret having been there. For my part …
It’s things like sitting down with the highly talented and under-valued (here at home) Chris Jones and chatting about families and writing and how they really should invent some kind of pill that allows the two to exist in harmony side by side.
It’s things like making friendships with some of the most fantastic people I could ever hope to meet. Friendships that you know are going to last a very very long time. You better believe it when the changing of the guard comes (and it’s coming soon) we’ll all be there ready to take the helm. Love you Xandria, love you Johnny, Love you Neil, Love you Abi the list goes on.
It’s things like the immense satisfaction in hooking up a million pieces of media to switch between in the course of a one hour lecture and actually see it work perfectly (almost). Don’t ever do that to me again Mr Ginn.
It’s things like standing three feet away from Ben Stephenson, that’s all I really need to say I stood three feet from him. What? Yeah next year I’ll talk to him.
It’s things like standing in the hottest, sweatiest over-packed hall with 120 others listening to the super-immensely-motivating Kate Adamson. Who would ever believe that a non-writer would be one of the most sought out events of the festival. Like I said Kate, writers can’t talk and now they’re supposed to act like producers… there’s a lot of worried writers out there.
It’s things like Stephen’s omelette.
When I travelled to the festival that first morning I was in a little dream world mulling over the idea of my previous blog. I began to write it down in a notebook and the idea was that I would then blog every day from the festival.
The six days were some of the busiest and yet most fun of my life. It was not dissimilar and very almost as fun as working on a film set. There was no chance I could find time to write as well though. In fact if you look across the blogs of all the writers that were there… like a dessert. The Screenwriters Festival, the one time of the year when writers don’t write.
I’ll be saying more about the festival over the coming week, but for now I just wanted to get back into the swing of typing, I’d almost forgotten how!