Tidy Up

Tidy Up ©

By Michael Casey

Today was tidy up day in our house, when its best to hide and keep out of the way, lest you be tidied up and find yourself in the recycle bin. Or in my case left in the entry for the scrap metal guys to take away.

The wife started while I was trying to get milk from the fridge, she was in her combat gear, her bright red Korea pinny and her rubber gloves, looking very menacing indeed. As I took things out of the fridge she ducked and dived and removed shelves, and contents. The shelves needed cleaning and she was on a mission. I just wanted the marg for my toast, I had to duck and dive in our galley kitchen.

Then I went into the garden to eat my toast so that I would not be run over by our Shanghai kamikaze, as she dived and spun back and forth from the fridge to the sink. If you think cleaning women, or your old mum was a Force of Nature then you would not believe or possibly imagine what a Shanghai girl is like when in cleaning mode.

I then went and hid in the front room and checked my email to see if anybody had bitten the idea of broadcasting my shorts. Not yet was the answer. I had to hide again as the vacuum cleaner came out, I’m not good enough to be allowed to clean. I do have a very dodgy back and hip at the moment, but I’m not trusted enough to be allowed to clean. I did once remind her that I did take care of the house very well before her shadow darkened my door, no she’s not a vampire, vampire’s don’t caste shadows. If they did she would vacuum it up in double quick time.

So the day progressed and she talked to the world on her toy, while I tried to think of ways of getting the world to read my words. No it wasn’t me hacking the world’s computers today and making everybody go to my author page on Amazon. If only, if only.

The girls decided to get in on the act, they would tidy up their bedroom, which happens to be above my head. So the sound of laughter and small feet running backward and forward was like a metronome as I sat here typing/writing. Then the sound of plastic bags full of rubbish bouncing down the stairs.

Then I was invited upstairs to view their restyling of the bedroom. Wasn’t that a frame full of photos, wasn’t it at the top of the stairs before? Now the place of honour had one of their painting hanging  proudly there. As for the frame of photos, the photos had fallen off like autumn leaves. To reveal a notice board which they hung on the wall with glue tack, as no more nails are allowed in their room.

They came down for refreshment, then upstairs I could hear a noise like somebody breaking in. When I went upstairs to investigate all I could see was a dolls house shattered as if after an avalanche, the notice board had fallen off. However apart from that their room was all neat and tidy and looking bigger, a Tardis effect.

As for me, I was wondering what to write in the hope that a new story might swing it for me, and that some radio station somewhere will like to hear my shorts. My Tidy Up short.

the wife and fearsome cleaner

Casey Film School by Michael Casey

Casey Film School ©

By Michael Casey

Now in our house we watch loads of films, 5 a week and more maybe, and with Sky+ box you can record many more. I watched loads as a child too, in black and white in them days. I think I was 25 before I bought a colour  tv for the family. Children nowadays won’t watch anything not in colour.

I saw a documentary on tv with Keanu Reeves, the programme was all about Film, as in the physical piece of material that goes through the camera. It was comparing film to digital. There always is a “look” to a film, I used to say you can tell if a film is rubbish just by the credits.

The old fashioned Technicolor as in Robin Hood, had colours so rich it was as if a child had used wax crayons. Then there are washed out colours for effect, to give a feel and a meaning to a film. Some films are so dark you can hardly see a thing. Alien the first one seemed so especially dark.

Most films I’ve seen on tv, we do have a good tv, I spoilt myself 20 years ago and got a good tv, I was earning good money then and I had interest free credit for a year. Toshiba is all I will say, just go to John Lewis, get free 5 year guarantee and get a Toshiba. Our current Toshiba replaced the old one a few years ago.

Now does the average person notice all the nuances of the cinematography? I’ll say no, though I’m still on a learning curve myself. I’ve watched a ton of films and as my girls grow up we  talk about Film in the advert breaks, 3 mins on satellite, but if we have recorded the film we zap through the ads.

Do  you like the way the actor does this or does that, could you see where the scary bit was going to happen. Could you see how something was telegraphed? Telegraphed things are probably the most we’ve talked about. I hope I don’t spoil the joy of the thing with all this “Casey film school” material.

When you have seen Maltila, or Willy Winka or The Mummy, all versions, then you too will become a little film buff. We really hate it when ITV4 cuts the bit from the Mummy where they haggle for O’Connor’s life, just before he joins them.

Getting back to the documentary, can modern digital technology be trusted to give a good look? Technology gets better and better and will be good enough for everybody in 10 to 15 years time. This is what I’m guessing after listening to the experts. You also have to save some of the machinery so that in the future you can actually read the film in whatever technological format it has been shot.

Modern cameras, digital cameras are so light that you can go anywhere with them, Danny Boyle was talking about one of his films and he had 10 cameras for one section of one of his films. I didn’t know that normally film cameras only have enough film in them for 10mins of acting normally. Then they have to cut.

So imagine the actor has to get himself all worked up and in the zone then the film camera has to be reloaded. How can the actor get back to where he was emotionally after being stopped in mid flow.  It’s like having a streaker in the middle of an event, it would certainly put the vicar off his matins. So how can an actor be expected to get back to where he was.

Now with digital the actor, male or female or both, can keep on performing without fear, it’s not as if mom is knocking at the bedroom door demanding entrance, while sonny is with Cher doing the same. So digital allows uninterrupted performance.

The look and feel of the film is almost the same as Film, because digital is improving so much. As an audience we may hate the look however filmed because the film may look too trashy, or too slick, and so on. The director and the cinematographer must have loads of discussions on how to get it right, but when it IS right it really IS right.

But this now brings me on to the most important thing of all, THE WRITING, speaking as a writer, awaiting news on my 1^st screenplay for a film, I think it’s the writing which is the most important thing. If the story is weak or badly told then no amount of pretty looks will save it.

It will look like a commercial, a bad commercial. Film scripts as such are very bare, mine isn’t it gives plenty of direction. I’m hoping its idiot proof and that the director and cinematographer can just tell the actors “say the words” and if they follow their nose WE will have a success.

Perhaps I’m a little naïve, a virgin on the bed of cinema. However a writer is taking a chance that the film of his book &/or script matches what was in his head and was put on paper. In a way the writer writes the score and the director then has it in his head. And just like a conductor the director is getting actors and cinematographers and everybody else to play their instruments, their bodies if you like, so that the result is Mozart.

When it works it really works, just as Amadeus really worked, the look, the style, the music, the words, the everything. A director has to be like a general, a prostitute or a pimp, just to squeeze out the right performance.

It all starts with words on a page, then with pictures and together you have FILM.

Big Business Small Beginnings

Big Business Small Beginnings ©

By  Michael Casey

Just before I finished with ACNielsen my friend did the tarot for a bit of fun, we had just eaten fish and chips in the rest room next to my computer room. Yes we were in England, Birmingham to be exact, overlooking the Chinese Quarter.

So not putting chippy fingers on her cards I pick some out. Every card had money on it.  My next jobs over the next ten years all had money connections, but sadly none went in my pocket.

ACNielsen is of course business analysis, I then went to Insurance, Finance office, CPNEC business hotel, Life Insurance, Law Firm, Esol English. All of which make money, lots of money for the company.

The guests at CPNEC were really nice people, all self-made, the Law firm was really nice too. Esol English made money for the company, I enjoyed my chance as a teacher.

So how about making some money for myself, or rather for my own family. When the tarot was done I hadn’t met my Shanghai  wife. Marriage means spending money, but in return I live with 3 girls, all of whom speak Chinese, me I’m the token male and English speaker in the house.

So how can I provide for my growing family? Well I am a writer, I do indeed have 6 books on Amazon Kindle, follow links at bottom of page. However writing is a strange product, nobody ever makes any money out of it, not unless you are JKR or JRRK.

So you have to plug at it, the selling not the writing, writing is easy, making a living or money out of it is hard. I read the news and see how Billionaires made their first buck. The guy with the photo website was in the newspaper today, his idea was so simple, take “boring” photos and sell them.

I once applied for a job where I’d be looking at boring photos of  advertising billboards, why, to make sure the paid adverts had gone up in the right place, to prove the job was done. I did not get that job, so hello to them if they stumble over this.

I once applied for a greetings card writer job, I did not get that either, so hello to them too. AS you can all see I’m not brief enough, for that job. My shorts can be short and they can be longer, but I hope always worth a read.

At the moment I’m waiting to see if a script of mine is going to be made into a film, and to see if my shorts are going to be used on the radio as a 90seconds with Michael Casey segment.

Some radio stations, the majority, are very linear,  the listeners won’t understand the concept, if you wean them away from the breast milk of pop the listeners will switch off or change over. 

You can have both, “she can’t sing, she can’t dance, but she walks like Riana” then hit the button and hear my voice reading one of my shorts. Trust the listener, Richard Allison and Bob Harris are great broadcasters for a reason.

Making money is what the Americans are always good it, England has the ideas and then America buys the idea cheap and gets rich from it. Always seems to be the case.

So what is you have a great book, full of incident and action, but getting a push behind the book is so hard. You rebrand it, as Rupert Murdoch does with his film channels over his empire.

So what can you do with your book? You do things in reverse, you sell it or part of it as a film. Then as the games market is a billion dollar industry, you sell the concept of your book as a game. You will have to persuade the games people to make the book into a game, that can be hard but if you say if it’s good enough for a film it should fly as a game. Then at least they will pause for thought. I should add that friends from my computer room days did in fact  create a game and got £10,000 for it 20 years ago.

Now Hasbro makes games galore and they have just tied up with a video games company. Now Hasbro makes board games and my book The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker can be a board game, to stop people getting bored on wet summers days. You have to have faith in yourself and your product. My product being my writing.

Yesterday on the Dragon’s Den, which is where people ask millionaire backers to support them, we saw a variety of people pitch their idea. Pitching your idea is key, I had to write a one page pitch for this film. Perhaps I can use the same pitch for video and board games. Merchandising is very profitable, look at Disney, need I saw more. Now read the following poem of mine.

Let There Be Light ©

By Michael Casey

Let my tears be my words

Let the candle light be my eyes

Let the flowers in bloom be my lips

Let their scent be my blood

Let the wind be my breath

Let clouds be my mood

Let children’s laughter be my hope

Let widows’ sighs be my conscience

Let a stranger’s prayers be my delight

Let the bees be my wisdom

Let the trees be my strength

Let my patience reach to the stars

Let me be always remembered in your prayers

Now this is a beautiful poem, result of 3 years daily visits to Saint Phillip’s cathedral, on my lunch break from a Law Firm. Now I feel this is good enough for radio, but is the breast milk of pop the only thing The Hits should feature?

I think the poem could be on Tee Shirts, on tea towels and so on, or should it only be read in church? It is of course my copyright. So how do I pitch that idea, how will I ever get a chance? Perhaps if the lift breaks down and the Dragons from the Dragons Den have to spend a fruitful hour with me.

What about words, my 3 books of shorts or blogs if you like. Can they only be sold as a coffee table book for dentists’ and doctors’ waiting rooms. Or can I record them to a data base and people can dip in and hear them, then buy them on iTunes and so on. And then it’ll be “he can’t sing, he can’t dance, but he walks like a concierge.”  And then all radio will clamour for my shorts.

So all of this is about marketing, it’s about how you can sell what you have written. They say the first million is the hardest to earn, then after that the money flows in.

I have yet to find this out, I have yet to earn the first penny, I just hope it happens in this life. Then me and my 3 girls can have a big house and a cat for the girls and a dog called Subway for me.

www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com

email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com

 http://www.amazon.com/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

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Sleepover(c) by Michael Casey

Sleepover©

By

Michael Casey

Sleepover is exactly that, your sleep is over, you have laughing kids invading your house, and driving you out of your minds. Well not always, but it is very distracting. You can’t remember what you were doing and where has that file gone on the computer. This is the 2^nd time I’m telling this story, why, because my Word, or upon my word, the story died or rather Word did not close properly, so now you’re getting something different.

Total strangers, or strangers to you arrive at the house and kind of invade it for a night. You do shout up the stairs, keep them out of my room. Not because you have anything worth stealing, but they are stealing your privacy, and that’s all you have left if you have daughters in your house.

Then the smell of nail varnish drifts down the stairs and permeates everywhere, its worse than mustard gas from the Great War. You scream up the stairs, open all the windows fully, what about your room, dad? Especially mine.

Its then that your inner sanctum is breached as they bring their friends to help them open the window. They see the Teddy Bear that you’ve had since you were 6 years old, the invader laughs. She also sees the deep heat by your bed, And he complains about nail varnish.

Dinner time arrives and you have to feed the cuckoo, only she doesn’t eat this or she doesn’t eat that, on principle. So you say, you’ll have to stave then. Your daughter, the host, is horrified, so you relent and flick a pound coin at them, cholesterol free oil used to make the chips. So a compromise is achieved.

You put Sky Sports on to watch the match, they say Qatar is going to build underground stadia, novel idea. You are settling down to see Rooney when they arrive back chip laden. Her friend just loves the ballet and Sky Arts has Bolshoi on, so could they please please watch that. You say you’ll record it for them. But you are as bad as a puppy murderer even for suggesting it.

So being a nice dad you let them watch the ballet on your 46inch tv, while you retreat to watch the match on the laptop upstairs. They never tell you about this at parenting classes, just how to change nappies. Let’s hope William and Kate are told.

After the ballet they retreat upstairs for girlie music, and what were you doing in their room on the laptop. Didn’t you know you are just a dad not allowed in the inner sanctum. The Hits is switched on  their dab radio at volume 13, you retreat to watch the after match talk on the big screen.

Later its bath time, so you have to wait 2 hours for all the girls in your house, including the cuckoo, to pollute the bathroom before you a mere dad, and bill payer, can have a shave. Only your last razor has been used to save somebody’s legs.

So everybody goes to bed, all is well, holding your teddy bear, you sleep soundly. Until 3am, when a banshee screaming wakes you, your wife and all the neighbours. It’s the cuckoo, she’s having a nightmare, it must be the chips, and the cholesterol free oil from them. Or half waking up and forgetting where she was.

So remembering to put on your dressing gown you have to calm everybody down, and answer the door, to the police, as the neighbour from neighbourhood watch has rung them. So the police come in and have a look. Flatulence is written down in the Police note book. As you let the police out the house again your smallest daughter hands you your teddy bear, its ok dad, it’s only a sleepover.

The Secret Admirer

The Secret Admirer ©

By

Michael Casey

I have been using FaceBook in an attempt to interest people in my writing. A bit of self-publicity, Americans are so much better at it than us here in England.

At one of my jobs I did indeed have a secret admirer, I only found out when one of the lads told me, just as I was leaving the company. It’s a strange experience, the girl in question was a very nice person, however not the kind of girl I’d want as an admirer.

Personality is strange,  some may like you whereas others can’t bear to be in the same room as you. I think I was perfect in my concierge days because I could entertain while people were waiting for their business partner. Then I’d disappear like morning Scot’s mist.

The best guests were Northerners, “Hello Michael, give us a kiss, show us the photos” one regular used to say and I’d show her the latest snaps of my infant daughters. Yes I was a dotting dad. The best professional compliment was “You’re as good as the Concierge at the Dorchester.”

So that’s getting on with guests at CPNEC, it was a great place to work at. So I had a few admirers, for my work, for my professionalism.

Imagine though somebody is watching you, now that’s a bit creepy. Can somebody be stalking me.  Imagine somebody has pictures of me on their wall. It may be with targets on so they can punch me   because they hate my writing. Or they are fed up of their girlfriend saying “he’s a lovely writer.”

Actually this happened once, Claire was laughing in her bedroom. Her dad asked from outside the door, “what’s so funny?” “Oh its Michael dad he’s making me laugh, he really tickles my fancy.” “What?” asks her shocked dad reaching for his baseball bat. “It’s Michael Casey from work.” “What?” asks her dad as he tightens his grip on the baseball bat. “I’m reading Michael’s book, The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker” Dad is relieved and goes to bed.

So you could say Claire was an admirer, now she was a really nice girl, she admired my writing. Now she works at the big W.

In USA admirers will go to the barbers and pay for your hair from the barbers. So would my soft white dandruff hair be a relic. Yuck.

It must be nice to have fans who get what you are writing, who understand the insider jokes, who get the parallel lines of the story. Though I would not want Kathy Bates as a fan as in that film with James Caan. That kind of fan would be really scary.

Another fan would correct all your “mistakes” telling you/me how such and such should be spelt. How it wasn’t then but then, your dates are wrong. So what would I say.  “ITS FICTION” there are no facts to check, its fiction after all.

Imagine long long letters correcting you, then attacking you. I’d just reply “Go write your own book” Writing is a very personal thing, I write for myself and hope readers like my world view. It’s not compulsory to like the story or the style of writing. But it’s great when people like both.

Fans think they are friends, real friends, or family even. They can send presents to you. If anybody wants to send me a Cartier diamond bleu watch, feel free. Sadly you cannot send a house in the post…

So would it be nice to have millions of secret admirers? I’d love to have 1% of the readers Jeffery Archer has. Being recognised for a skill is a great thing, be it as a carpenter, or a plumber,  or a musician. When you achieve this all of your admirers come out of the shadows and buy your books, or recommend you as a plumber or a carpenter. Remember  Harrison Ford was a carpenter.

I just saw Wall Street:Money Never Sleeps, on Film4, its a really good film. Michael Douglass is very good. The Love of Money is the Root of All Evil. The film is also a love story between his daughter and the boy wonder so to speak. Its also about the realisation by Gordon Geko that Family is all. It is indeed Priceless. We have Bill Gates using his wealth to keep the Human Family free from Polio, this is a wonderful thing, and I know is heaping up rewards in Heaven. Now Cancer is a terrible thing, it takes away those we love with all our heart. Let me die, but save them is often said in this terrible terrible situation. So I think the next big act of Humanity is to nail Cancer, we all take Cancer personally, it kills OUR love ones. So if there are any Billionaires out there why not invest £10,000,000,000 , thats ten billion pounds into Cancer research. You could create a world centre, even here in the UK and then with satelite centres world wide. £10,000,000,000 can do a lot of damage to Cancer, we can start stabbing Cancer in the heart, just as it does when it takes our loved ones away. So let somebody somewhere follow Bill Gates example, and donate to Cancer research. If only we could get a billion  pound club going. 10 billionaires giving a billion pounds each. They say its harder to get a camel through the eye of a needle than to get a rich man into Heaven. Well I disagree, use wealth to save lives and kill Cancer. Then when these billionaires die, as we all do, then my mum will be waiting for them in Heaven with a cup of tea waiting for them. Now that's all I can offer in exchange for ten billion pounds invested into Cancer research.