Work Share - The Demon Fencer

My next work share is from a second poetry assignment in the Exploring Creative Writing module. The first assignment had been on strict form poetry, and this one looked at free verse. Based on a single word prompt, "Try", I decided to look at how I enrolled in my university's fencing club. I write swashbuckler fiction, so I can consider it "research". My submission, The Demon Fencer, looked at my experiences within the club. I suppose I'm a "casual" fencer, because I didn't take part in any competitions last year, but I might give that a go next year.

Office work made me feel blue, so I’m trying something new
Studying Creative Writing, with research around fighting
No, not a drunken brawl in the pub. I’ve joined the Fencing Club
Sunday at the Watershed, which does mean getting out of bed
Put on the kit, grab an epee, time to plug and play
Parry, feint, riposte. Win with a rakish cackle like Errol Flynn
Like d’Artagnan vs Jussac, or Inigo vs the Man in Black
They do socials too. Go out for a pint. Or a few.
Try the Firebug’s A&E? Dost Mefinitely!

Andrew Roberts, 2018

A Study of Adaptation - You Only Live Twice

Before I start, I feel I should post a content warning; this source material discusses suicide.

You Only Live Twice is the twelfth book in Ian Fleming's original series, published in 1964. It was also the last entry to be published in his lifetime. It would become the fifth entry in the film series, released in 1967. This was one with significant changes, due to the fact that the book takes place after On Her Majesty's Secret Service but the film takes place before it.

In the novel, Bond has let his life slide after his wife's murder and is on the brink of being dismissed from MI6. M instead gives him a last chance with a "promotion", re-assigning him from the 00 Section to the Diplomatic Branch. His mission is to meet with "Tiger" Tanaka, the head of the Japanese Secret Service, to offer access to a British intelligence source in exchange for access to Russian radio transmissions intercepted by the Japanese. Unfortunately, Tanaka has already infiltrated the source being offered. He asks Bond to assassinate Dr Guntram Shatterhand, a Swiss botanist who has occupied a castle in Kyushu and set up a garden full of poisonous plants which many people have broken into with the intention of committing suicide. Bond later discovers that Shatterhand is actually Blofeld, and sees an opportunity to pursue personal revenge.

In the film, Bond is sent to investigate the disappearance of an American spacecraft, for which the Russians are being held responsible. After faking his death in Hong Kong, he is sent to Japan to follow a potential lead. With the help of Tanaka and one of his agents, Aki, he soon implicates a chemical company owned by Mr Osato. It then transpires that the company is a SPECTRE front, and that they seek to trigger a nuclear between the United States and Soviet Union at the behest of another power (presumably China, as the film came out after the Sino-Soviet split).

As stated above, one of the main reasons for the changes was due to the different running orders between the book and the film (something similar happened with From Russia With Love and Dr No). There was also the fact that Roald Dahl, who wrote the screenplay, considered the novel to be unfilmable. The plot is minimal, and most of the book seems to be dedicated to being a travelogue of Japan.

The film retains the presence of Blofeld, the Japanese setting, and the characters of Tanaka and Kissy Suzuki (a pearl diver and former movie star). A couple of elements from the book were utilised, but changed:

• In the book, Bond is introduced to Tanaka through Richard 'Dikko' Henderson, an uncouth and vulgar Australian intelligence officer. He seems to have a lot of respect for Japanese culture, but is jaw-droppingly racist with regards to aborigines. In the film, Henderson is a British agent operating in Japan, who is a lot more reserved.
• In the book, Blofeld's headquarters was a coastal castle in Kyushu. In the film he uses an elaborate underground base built into a volcano. This was simply because there weren't any castles built by the coast.

Furthermore, there are some elements from the novel which didn't make it into the adaptation, but there are faint echoes in later films:

• Bond's new code name is 7777. This was alluded to in the release date of The Spy Who Loved Me; 7th July 1977.
• At the end of the novel, Bond is feared dead and his obituary is printed in The Times. This element would later be used in Skyfall.
• A possible one: I've been reading about how Lashana Lynch is being cast as a character who takes over the code name of 007 in the next Bond film. As stated above, Bond is no longer in the 00 section in this story, so there's a perfect opportunity to explore that element.

We'll see how that plays out next year.

Work Share - The End of an Old Life

My third and final piece for the Creative CV was based on the day I was fired from my job in 2018. I'd been working at that particular job for 18 months, but I was struggling to fit my writing around the five-day work week. I'd become depressed, and started acting out on Twitter about why I hated working for the company, not caring whether or not I got caught. Eventually I did get caught, but at that point I was already putting together a plan to leave.

Personally, I don't think people should have to work five days a week. If your job isn't your career, you don't have kids, and you don't have something else lined up, working five days a week doesn't bring much other than a serious mental health risk.

The End of an Old Life depicts this, but with an added twist to reflect the desensitising nature of a soulless workplace.

Pirates and Emperors, mate. I’m at work five days a week with four weeks’ holiday a year, one of which I have to take at Christmas. Add to that a boss who takes three times that much time away at their holiday home in the French Alps. Anyone will decide that just because they’re always at work doesn’t mean they’re going to be working. I’d relish the thought of calling them out on that. But I don’t.

I encounter some of the worst drivers on the roads around Stoke. I want to get today over with, because I’m spending a long weekend in Tenbury Wells with my writer friends.
The director’s car is parked outside the office.

“Oh no.” I say out loud, despite being the only person in the car. I got that email about the state of my desk yesterday, so I imagine I’m going to be chewed out over that. I’ll make that today’s priority.

I find a space and saunter in. Even though it’s May, the office is cold and all the lights are on, as it’s positioned in way that never gets the sun. The smell of floor polish greets me, along with the director looking at me like someone else has just died.

“Andrew, I want a word with you.” The director says as I sit down.

This can’t be good. Using my full name and that fatal phrase.

“We’re terminating your contract.” He says. He’s blunt and to the point.

The clock’s ticking fills the room for almost a minute.

“Oh.” I reply.

That’s right. No jumping for joy. No blubbering. Nothing. Being dead can have that effect on a person.

“Your misuse of company IT is being considered an act of gross misconduct. I’ve seen what you’ve been tweeting about. It’s not what we’re paying you for.” Again, he doesn’t raise his voice.

“Don’t worry about me. If you’ve read my tweets, you’ll know my plans. I want to go to university and do a Creative Writing degree. Accountancy might be a good job, but it’s not my career.” I say.

“That may be. But I hope you learn from this.” He says.

I extend my hand. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Our handshakes do not feel firm. 

I return to the car and hear my own heart beating. I haven’t heard that in a while.

I’m no longer an accountant. I’m stealing back my soul. It’s time to catch up on lost sleep, get a few good books in there, and give my writing some much-needed care and attention. 

It’s time for me to live again.

Andrew Roberts, 2018

Work Share - Shangri-La

My second entry for the Creative CV was a piece I titled Shangri-La, and was based on my first visit to the Swanwick Writers' Summer School in 2016. I regard this as an important moment, because after going to Swanwick, I wanted to spend more time on my writing. In fact, I'd probably say that Swanwick was what influenced my decision to go to university in the first place. In a bid to put the reader in my shoes, I opted to write this in a second person point-of-view.

You cruise down the A38 towards Derbyshire, admiring the early afternoon sunshine in the cloudless sky as Status Quo’s “Rockin' All over the World” plays in your head. This is your first holiday not spent with your family, and you haven’t felt excitement like this since your school days.

The GPS directs you to exit at the Watchorn Roundabout, you follow the trees lining Derby Road before arriving at the rustic village of Swanwick. Driving through the narrower streets, you smile at the wedding procession leaving St Andrew’s Parish Church. It accentuates the summer scene in your mind.

You follow more back roads to the Hayes Conference Centre. The smell of freshly cut lawns permeate through the car’s air conditioning as you drive through the main entrance. More trees line the road, along with banners for the Christian organisation which runs the venue. A Victorian mansion looms ahead, still hidden by the trees.

You turn right. Another road gives you a better view of the main building; while leading you to a newer building. You find a parking space overlooking a small lake. Cutting the engine, you stay in your seat for a moment and take in the serene view.

After taking your bags to your room, you stroll towards the main house. Attendees mingle on the lawn with tea and cakes. Some wear yellow badges, catching up after the school weeks from previous years. Others wear white badges similar to yours, meeting for the first time. You notice a greater mix of age ranges than in your local writers’ group. An elderly couple wearing yellow badges sit on a bench next to one of the elaborate floral displays. Standing next to them is a girl in her late teens with a white badge.

You grab a cup of tea and join a group of so-called “White Badgers”. They ask the typical questions:
“Have you travelled far?” A poet in his early sixties asks with a broad Scottish accent.
“What do you like to write?” An American children’s author in her late twenties inquires.
“What do you do for a living?” A songwriter in his mid-thirties probes.

Most of these people seem introverted like you, but you feel comfortable as you converse with them. Perhaps you may find plenty of kindred spirits in the coming week?
You’ll want to come back next year.

Andrew Roberts, 2018

Work Share - Lost Opportunities

My next few "Work Share" posts are based on an assignment which involved a "Creative CV". Based on a similar part in Stephen King's On Writing, the assignment involved writing three creative pieces based on events in our lives which shaped us as writers.

My first piece, Lost Opportunities, is based on the difficulties I faced when I was in Sixth Form, which was when I originally started writing as a hobby. I struggled with the jump from GCSE to A Level (for any American readers, these qualifications are the UK equivalent of High School). In attempt to capture a moment from this time, I settled on when I started the second year and discovered that the girl I had a crush on had dropped out. In an attempt to mix things up, I decided to present the moment as a terza rima (this was written not long after submitting the strict form assignment). Sorry, it's a bit of melodramatic teenage angst. But it's why I write; escape.

Aged 17, and all I get is strife
Sixth Form blows
I’d rather pick up a knife

There are highs with the lows
A girl who takes my breath away
Her smile melts the snows

Exams looming every day
I want to get them over with
There’s plenty more to say

More exams loom like a monolith
I want to ask her on a date
Anxiety makes that a myth

“I’ll ask next time I see her”, but it’s too late
I return to Chetwynd; she’s dropped out
I’m in an awful state

It demonises my growing self-doubt
Anger the system is inciting
“Fuck exams!” I still shout

But there is little to gain from fighting
So I often find solace in my writing.

Andrew Roberts, 2018.

A Study of Adaptation - On Her Majesty's Secret Service

Since Fleming tried to pretend that The Spy Who Loved Me never happened, the next story in the so-called "SPECTRE Trilogy" is On Her Majesty's Secret Service. The eleventh book in the series was published in 1963, and became the sixth entry in the film series in 1969.

After the events of Thunderball, Bond is taking part in Operation Bedlam; the mission to apprehend Ernst Stavro Blofeld. However, years of fruitless searching has convinced him that Blofeld is dead and that Operation Bedlam is a wild goose chase. He even contemplates resigning from the secret service as he visits Vesper Lynd's grave in Royale-les-Eaux (from Casino Royale). This is interrupted by several chance encounters with the suicidal Countess Teresa di Vincenzo. He's soon brought before her father, Marc-Ange Draco, the head of the Corsican mafia, who believes that he should marry "Tracy" and give her a reason to live. As part of the agreement, Bond uses Draco's connections to trace Blofeld to the Swiss Alps under the assumed name of Comte Balthazar de Bleuville, a title he has asked The Royal College of Arms to recognise. Posing as a genealogist named Sir Hillary Bray, Bond discovers that Blofeld has been curing several young women of their allergies, but is secretly brainwashing them to deliver biological warfare agents to Britain's major agricultural areas.

The film keeps this story, but makes several notable changes:

• In the film, Bond meets Tracy in Portugal rather than France. As Casino Royale hadn't been officially adapted, the call-back wouldn't make any sense.
• Bond learns that he is being relieved from Operation Bedlam - as the prime minister believes it to be a wild goose chase - but is convinced that Blofeld is still at large. This is actually more fitting, as he'd already foiled four previous SPECTRE plots.
• Bond actually submits his resignation, but Miss Moneypenny secretly changes his request to one for a two week leave.
• In the book, Bond escapes from Piz Gloria after another British agent named Campbell is captured and interrogated, possibly blowing his cover. In the film, Bond is captured after his cover is blown by a combination of Campbell's confession, mistakes in his research of the Bleauchamp (rather than Bleuville) family history, and his seduction of Blofeld's patients.
• Tracy is captured while trying to help Bond escape. This gives Draco another reason to help Bond raid Blofeld's headquarters, but also gives Tracy a chance to take a more active role by having her lure Blofeld to where he's likely to be killed in the raid and take out one of his brutes.
• Additionally, the raid is necessary so that Bond can identify the "Angels of Death", and destroy the communications centre so that Blofeld can't issue their orders. In the book, the Angels are all detained as Bond escaped with their names.
• In the book, Blofeld's "Angels of Death" are all from Britain and Ireland. In the film, they're from all around the world.
• In the book, the Secret Service deduce Blofeld's scheme by matching the names of his patients and the agricultural outputs of where they're from. In the film, Blofeld contacts them explaining his plan and giving his demands: a pardon for all past crimes and official recognition of his noble title.
• The book also suggests that Blofeld is being financed by the Russians. This element is removed from the film, keeping with SPECTRE's recurring schemes which involve playing the West and East against each other.

This is also the point where Bond was appearing in print and on screen. It's the first story in which Bond is stated to be Scottish, a change which Fleming incorporated after seeing Sean Connery's performance in Dr No. There's even a cameo appearance by Ursula Andress, who played Honey Ryder, as a guest at a ski resort.

Work Share - Year of the Phoenix

Now that I've had all my first year assignments marked and returned, I'm allowed to publish them. Over the next few days, I'm going to sharing creative works I produced for assignments, starting with a ballad titled Year of the Phoenix. This was part of an assignment on Strict Form Poetry, and was based on the major life changes I went through in 2018.

2018 – A year of rhymes
With that bizarre old curse:
“May you live in interesting times.”
Life’s gone from bad to worse.

At least, that’s what I thought at first.
Stuck in a soulless job,
Waiting for my bubble to burst.
Always about to sob.

TV Tropes and comfort eating
Not what I am paid for.
Other than my workplace tweeting,
Writing output’s been poor.

Then it changed in the month of May.
Boss says “Andrew, you’re fired.
I’ve read your tweets. Seen what you say.”
Don’t care; I’ve retired.

Unemployment does have its perks:
Catching up on lost sleep,
Spending time on creative works,
Feeling less like a sheep.

But it’s now time for a new start.
Saying goodbye to Stoke.
I guess my sacking was – at heart –
A motivating poke.

“Go Bohemian for a spell”
A pipe dream for so long.
“You’ll have many stories to tell
With wine, women, and song.”

So now I have moved to Leicester
I’m sick of the fighting
With the management who pester.
Sod that; let’s get writing.

Settled in, started at Uni
I’m in a better state
You could say that I’m a loony
But for once, I feel great!

Andrew Roberts, 2018

Watch this space for more work.