Chris Stanley's Bazaar

Leo reached across the table to a paper cup full of wooden stirrers. His hand met long, slender fingers tipped with candy apple red. ‘Sorry,’ he blushed. ‘No problem,’ she said, her mouth widening into brilliant white. She patted his arm, running her hand down to his wrist, where her touch turned to electricity. ‘You’re new here. I spotted you when you walked in. You have a very sexy stride.’ She smiled again, placing her hand on her hip. ‘I’m Beatrice.’ There was an acute on the “a” in her name. This complemented the question-mark of her black cocktail dress. ‘Leo,’ he murmured, looking down at the floor. His trainers were scuffed and he could see the frayed hems of his jeans had been muddied by a hundred unnecessary journeys.m  They turned from the refreshments table and Leo looked around the room. Others were beginning to take their seats. None of them looked particularly friendly, but they all seemed wary of one another, as if one of them – nobody could tell who – w...

So, welcome back to my world. It’s debatable whether or not it’s better than the real world, but trust me, I wouldn’t have voted for him, so there’s that. People use the phrase “in a perfect world”, but it seems like 2016 was fuckin’ Nirvana compared to the shitshow this year is looking to be. Naturally, I’m back online to spread a little sunshine on proceedings, because my Smiths blog went really well (sample review: ‘you’re talking shit’). There are people better qualified and give a toss more than me about international politics. The Falklands Conflict was memorably described by Jorge Luis Borges as being “like two bald men fighting over a comb”, and the world has become a more spiteful and petulant place since the chilliest days of the Cold War. All I can say is that historically you don’t know you’ve lived through a crisis until you see it on a documentary. I watched some Channel 5 thing about 1990 the other day; turns out it was full of barricades, resignations and civil d...

There’s ice on the ground outside, and the days have a nip to them that only the night can challenge. As you can probably tell, I’ve been listening to a lot of miserable music. Actually, that’s not strictly the case. To be honest, I’ve been listening to a bit of everything as I edit my novel. I think that’s a standard requirement to editing anything. I’m going to sound like a complete tool, but I always cut to music. Sometimes it works; sometimes it can help you pace a scene which is flabby, or back-loaded with action, or it allows it space to breathe as you take the rhythm into your subconscious. I used to be a music writer, and this is one of those rare times when I blow my own trumpet. It was only after I listened back to my introductory podcast  that I realised I’d forgotten completely to mention that I used to edit a music section in a newspaper, or that I’d been allowed to interview some pretty well known people, and that I’d authored about three hundred record reviews a...

It's Autumn, and traditionally it's a strange time in my life. Like a lot of people, I don't take too kindly to the clocks going back, with the attendant dark mornings and evenings. I wouldn't go so far as to label it Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) because a) I don't believe it exists as a condition in and of itself, and b) it doesn't manifest itself in me as a condition which holds me back. I just eat more, yearn to stay at home and watch telly, and convince myself that I'm too done in to write. The only difference from the summer months is that I don't get to wear shorts. As it was half-term last week, me and my girlfriend took a city break to clear our heads of work and see some culture. We went to Krakow, which is a great city (not that picturesque outside of the Old Town and Wawel Hill, but it had its charms all the same). There was a pleasant nip in the air, it didn't rain apart from a single evening shower, and meals for two cost abo...

It's becoming a bit of a feature on this blog that I spend most of the first half of each new entry apologising for my tardiness in coming up with a new blog post. This wouldn't normally be a problem, but after my last entry, which read pretty much like a suicide note, I did get some people advising me to take a holiday, or failing that, treat myself to a KitKat Chunky with peanut butter. In the event, I did both. I feel much better for it, but as we know, these things can't last forever. I can destroy a KitKat in less than four seconds. So as I'm coming to the end of my jollies, what's new in the world of Stan? It's been a productive break. The Sad Club is well into draft two, which is a place I'd never imagined it would be, and on my off days, I've been working on another project which I'll keep secret for now. It's another novel, a much shorter one which I'm looking to have 1500 words a chapter. It's vaguely plotted in my head, but ...

It's been a while since I blogged, mainly because writing has been going pretty well for me over the last few months. My major work, which is my novel , has been first-drafted, sat on, re-read and annotated with a fine-tooth comb in preparation for a major re-edit. There were times in the last twelve months that I didn't expect to be able to say anything other than "I'm writing a book", so to have one should be excellent news. But it isn't any more. Because I've had another piece of work rejected. You may recall in my podcast and from an earlier blog post that my and my friend Tom, who runs the Thank Book For initiative, wrote a spec script of a sitcom years ago. Well, BBC Writersroom had open submissions for sitcoms back in April, so we spruced it up, crossed our fingers, and waited. And waited. And now, after four months of our work being 'in progress', it's dead in the water. No matter how much we told ourselves it would never get pick...

He Says...   By Chris Stanley  Put your black mark in the box he says We'll give you whatever you need It's the only way to be sure he says Of protecting the rights of our creed I'm a very reasonable man he says As he shows off his suit cut so fine All I want is what's best he says So I can banish these terrible crimes I knew we could do it together he says I'm glad you believed every word Now let's get us back to the top he says As he marks those he doesn't prefer We're taking a few extra coins he says To cover the blots of the past You'll get it back soon as we can he says While they wonder how long it'll last It's clear that the problem's not us he says As he speaks with a reasonable voice I know we're a generous people he says So I think we should all get a choice It's not good to see such disturbance he says When I've done all I can to be fair The people like us are all welcome he says ...