The greatest society in the world

Last night was workshop and karaoke night for the Northumbria WriSoc (there being a tremendous amount of overlap between writing a sequel for A Midsummer Night's Dream and Frank Sinatra), and, as usual, it passed off in a blend of a sublime and the ridiculous. Mostly the latter, it has to be said.

I could go into detail about the president and her statement regarding top hats and chlamydia. Or how, two weeks ago, the secretary managed to mention Hermia's tentflaps. Or even our esteemed treasurer and his Brian Blessed impressions. But the point is this: we're not the usual.

One of our newest members said possibly the nicest thing it's possible to say about a collective of writers last night: that we're not pretentious and we accept all types of writers. And it's true. The aforementioned member writes (very good) screenplays, one of which we were treated to last night. I write SF. A few members write poetry, others write prose, others scripts. It's an eclectic mix, and we work well together, especially when we band together and do projects as a group, as we are with the sequel to A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Kate's script is brilliant. From the Shakespearean opening, it moves into more conventional modern prose, but it keeps the essence of Shakespeare in the way it can be acted. We have monologues, passion and fire. Unfortunately the 'kick your ass' line has been omitted, but a 'ooh, she's feisty' comment has found its entertaining way in.

Thanks to a stripey commitment I can't make it to the Newcastle Book Festival, where the prologue and opening scene (at least) will be performed, alongside readings of members' work (perhaps including some of mine!). But it's just the latest in a line of events happening down to the hard work of the committee and the other members since the society formed last year. We've got the anthology coming out (hopefully), in which members' work will be exhibited. And in February there was an open mike night down at the Head of Steam by the train station in Newcastle. The year was topped off in April when the society won best new society at the Union Awards Night.

So we're quirky. We're busy. We're eclectic. We're entertaining. We say odd things. We do odd things. And occasionally we write.

Nothing like patting yourself on the back, eh?

Let's do the time warp again

I've now been back 7 weeks (to all slackers elsewhere, that's 7 weeks of intense, demanding work. Unlike your Media Studies degree), and by now I should be settled back in to the demands of Northumbria University and her LLB Bar Exempting degree. Of course, this being the fourth year the workload is now larger than an obese elephant, and it feels like I'm trying to shift it using a single shovel made of damp papier mache.

On the plus side, I am ahead with Law and Lit by about 3 weeks and the SLO's yet to really bite hard with its workload, so I've been able to get my dissertation synopsis sent off. I still have to complete my provisional bibliography (referencing about 60 cases and articles is proving to be somewhat problematic and exceedingly boring), but it's a start. Now to get cracking with the wonders of the introductory chapter. All 2,000 words of it.

Seeing as I'm meant to write about writing, I may as well give an update on that. In the past week I've managed to get one story finished and sent off (OK, it was 9 days ago, but hey), as well as make a start on another new one. I'm not much into the second of these, but that's entirely because I have a massive workload and no time at the moment.

It's also a major reason my reading volume is down this week. Normally I manage 50-0dd pages a night. This week the average has been 20, although I envisage that going up this evening after WriSoc's weekly karaoke sesh. Where we'll be doing the Time Warp. Again. The evening has the potential to be momentous, mostly because there is a chance I'll be singing. After Enter Sandman in the epic win of a fortnight ago, I need something to top that. Ace of Spades, anyone?

Oh, look, update...

Hurrah! My first Drafting session is down and it wasn't a complete disaster! For a first effort, I don't think my Particulars of Claim was too bad, to be honest, seeing as when we were doing them in second year I was laid up 120 miles away with my knee in a brace after dislocating it for the first time.

But it is another sign that uni is going to be the death of my writing. This is only the third/fourth week back (or fifth, if you're me) and already the amount of time I have to sit down and write something interesting is extremely limited. And this is without the SLO munching up my time like there's no tomorrow. Do this now, do that now, you can't do that you have a client, this letter needs writing, have you written that attendance note yet, do your research, have you liaised with your firm about this, jump through this hoop, you see that cliff there jump off it...

There's a taster of what is to come. Fortunately, I've got most of the rest of today free, and so I'm going to fill it with WriSoc (complete with an intriguing turn of events - tune in later to find out what happened when the censors said I couldn't report on it beforehand) and this story about evolution, when I'm not getting cracking on the bail appeal for next Monday and whatever drafting I'm meant to be doing for next Wednesday or doing dissertation work.

Ah, yes, the joys of university and a proper degree. None of that cushy Media Studies rubbish here. You actually have to have talent to be here (and I make no apology to those people on the Mickey Mouse degrees). Well, talent, and a certain amount of insane stubbornness.