Just a quick note... from Sue Purkiss

 At the moment, the 5th doesn't have a regular inhabitant - so I thought I would slip in very briefly, mostly to commend to you yesterday's thought-provoking post from Ciaran Murtagh. In it, he considers how writing stories for children - stories which embody values such as hope, kindness, empathy: stories in which good people ultimately win - can be balanced against the horrific events we see being rolled out in Ukraine. How can we insist that Right will always prevail over Might, when we are getting constant evidence via our phones and television screens that the reverse is, at the moment, true?

In the comments on Ciaran's piece, Anne Booth provides a link to an article by Frank Cottrell Boyce, the writer of the marvellous and uplifting opening sequence to the 2012 Olympics, in which he discusses the role of the arts in the context of that inclusive, joyous and exuberant portrayal of Britain, and of the very different Britain which came to the fore in the Brexit referendum. He cites a Roma woman, brought up in a series of orphanages in Switzerland, who overcame very difficult circumstances to lead a happy and successful life. 

She had grown up in Switzerland where - shockingly - Roma children were taken away from their parents on the thinnest of pretexts, then brought up in institutions where, supposedly, they would have a better chance of becoming valuable Swiss citizens. Mariella had been in thirteen different institutions, narrowly missed a lobotomy and had her own child confiscated. Yet when I met her she was an articulate, charming, outward-looking politically active, distinguished writer. I asked her about all that rebellion, the repeated expulsions … I asked her … how did you know there was something to rebel for? How did you know - growing up in this regimented institution where you were defined entirely by race - how did you know you were worth more? And she said said something I have never forgotten … it’s the thing that made me want to be a children’s writer … she said, I read Heidi.

There's so much in this article that struck a chord with me. If, as must surely be inevitable, you are feeling downcast at the moment, I would strongly recommend it. If I had to pick out one gem, it would be this: A book is not a learning resource. It's the knife that picks the lock of your isolation. It's a box of delights. Justification enough to keep on writing, even if, at the moment, in the shadow of what is happening, it seems like fiddling while Rome burns. It's not. It's really not.

Here's a link to the article, and thanks to Ciaran and Anne.

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Also_admitted_2014-04-10_23-25.jpg

The Unexpected Surprise - by Ciaran Murtagh

A quick blog from me today, sorry! But I wanted to spend a moment revelling in unexpected - and pleasant - surprises. 

As I was trundling about on the internet  I came across a show I helped develop a few years ago. It was only shown on RTE in Ireland so I never got to see it. However, I found out yesterday that I can see it all on BBC Alba on the iPlayer - who knew!?

The show is called Peek Zoo - or I'm guessing Su Pic in Gaelic -  and was based on a book by Kevin Waldron. Never having seen it I spent a half hour or so watching the short episodes, and because I was never expecting to see it, they were great! 

So often we build up to the big launch of a book or a show that we forget the moments that creep up on us and make us smile. Finding Peek Zoo was one. Another was in Luxembourg when someone turned up to an event with a French language version of my book that I didn't even know existed, another was when a window in Simply Books had been decked out in celebration of my Genie Academy series... 

It's those moments I come back to when I think about what I do. Sure the fanfares are nice, but so too are the unexpected toots - that sounds ruder than I meant it to -  they're the ones that stick the longest. 

Gone in 20160 Minutes - Ciaran Murtagh

I spent 18 months working on a new cartoon  -Ninja Express -  between 2018 and 2020 and it got released on CBBC last month. 

In days of old you might get a new episode once a week. Bagpuss only had 13 episodes EVER for example. You want to make those last. 

These days episodes usually comes in bundles of 52 and you get a new episode every day, sometimes two.  So something that took up a good chunk of your life to create is released into the world in the space of two weeks and then it's gone. 

Only of course, it's never really gone, it sits happily on iPlayer and YouTube for all eternity, but you get my point...

I'm proud of my work and it's lovely to share it with people, I like to announce new shows and, god love my family, they're keen to be supportive - but even they've stopped asking when they can see new stuff from me, when the answer is twice a day, 8am and 4pm for the next two weeks - it's quite a commitment! 

I liked writing Crackerjack because it became appointment to view TV. Much easier to tell people to watch 6pm on a Friday (not 5 to 5 anymore grandma!) rather than say 'anytime really, just click away'. People like to make a time to see things, if you tell them 'whenever' they rarely watch. 

I'm not sure what I'm railing against here. Kids love to binge watch cartoons as much as grown ups love to binge watch episodes of The Crown, why delay something people want - give it to them when they want it right? 

Well yes and no. It's hard to build up a fanbase or even awareness of a new show if there's nothing to look forward to. If it's all there, where do you begin, it's daunting and unfamiliar, best stick with something you know... 

That's why 'heritage brands' like Mr Bean, Dennis the Menace, Danger Mouse, The Clangers and Crackerjack keep coming back - the work's been done by previous generations. They're a name you can trust. You know what you're getting. 

You often hear people complaining that there are no new ideas in the world. There are. They're just playing 40 years of catch up. When your kid is kicking off and you're frantically trying to navigate the mass of content on your streaming service of choice, do you take a punt on something you've never heard of or stick on Bob the Builder? 

I think for all writers, be it TV or books, we sometimes feel like we're releasing our work into a void of indifference. The only way that'll change is if we leave space for the new as well as take pleasure in the comfort blanket of the familiar. 

After a month of releasing new work, twice daily for a month, the indifference starts to sting! 

Ciaran Murtagh is on holiday

 

Hello guys. I’m on holiday. I’m on my first holiday in AGES. This year, since January, I’ve home schooled two children, written three books, written thirty five episodes of television and head written a lot more. I’m exhausted. So I’m on holiday. Sorry.

Now some people might argue that I should have planned that and written a blog. Well to those people I say:

 

What do you think this is?

 

It’s a blog about me being on holiday. 

Right now I might be drinking a beer, shouting at my 7 year old or hiding from the rain under a tree. I might be having a great time, a rubbish time or still be a sleep. It doesn’t matter! I’m on holiday.

You should try it – it’s ace. Well, it probably won’t be ace, I’m in Wales. It’ll be FINE. Let’s settle for FINE. And I’m not saying that because I want to annoy Welsh people. I’m saying that because I’ve holidayed here over 30 times before, in this exact same spot and it’s always FINE.

There’s a pub in the local village that turns the lights off at 9.30 whether you’ve finished drinking or not. It’s that kind of place.  They don’t stock draught ale because they don’t get enough custom and they don’t understand why. That’s where I’m heading.

The only shop is attached to a garage. They complain when the non-locals buy the bread, despite the fact the garage is opposite a HOLIDAY PARK. I once suggested they buy more bread in peak season and they looked at me like I’d just invented another language.

But I don’t care about that. Take my money for your over inflated ice creams. Watch me fumble in the rain as I feed coins into your prehistoric parking machines. Rinse me at every turn while simultaneously begrudging my presence. Look at me like a Guardian reading wet wipe for asking if I can swap my chips for salad.

I’m on holiday. See you next month. 

Bank Holidays - Ciaran Murtagh

Everyone loves a bank holiday - or at least they should. I mean when else can you splash out on a £500 'essential' bank holiday hamper? 

Now maybe it's because I just can't conceive of a world in which that hamper will ever be essential, but I find them particularly hard, which is why this time of year is always a bit of a pain! 

Of course I love the excuse to spend more time with my family. But  - and I'm being VERY honest here - having home schooled a 4 and 6 year old for much of the year I feel I've spent quite a lot of time with them already! 

Quality time with my family always looks like this. Only one of the children should be crying and a relative will shortly announce they've become vegetarian and won't be eating the turkey. 

It doesn't help that there's still a limited number of places to go and quite frankly over the past 14 months we've done every walk, playpark and craft activity this sweet world has to offer. There's only so many times you can go on a nature trail in Croydon, and I'll be honest, where I live, you don't always want to encourage your kids to poke around in the bushes... 

Then there's the work stuff. I am a creature of routine. That's been hard enough over the past year or so with some kids going to school, some kids not going to school, my wife being in the house then not in the house... It's been building on shifting sands. The kids feel it too. The Easter holiday was peculiar for them - they were so happy to go back into school and then four weeks later they were housebound again. Nobody really knows where they are... 

Also, being self employed, my deadlines don't go away, I just have less time to try and make them! I'm not great at deadlines at the best of times, but give me a fighting chance. 

So yeah, bank holidays can jump in the sea as far as I'm concerned....unless you've got an essential bank holiday hamper for me - then I'm all yours! 

World B**k Day - by Ciaran Murtagh

I should like World Book Day -  it's a no brainer surely.

I make a living writing words for a living, a lot of them go into books, World Book Day should be right up my street when it comes to all round good days. But the truth is, I'm just not sure it is. I like the idea of World Book Day, I like what it represents, it's definitely a 'GOOD THING' but in execution... well, it makes me feel a bit dirty. 

Partly it's because it feels like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Can't argue with celebrating books or reading can you? But is World Book Day about celebrating books, or is it about selling books? It's like Valentines Day - you can't argue with wanting to celebrate the one you love - but do you have to do it on one specific day in a way that just so happens to make a mint for florists and Hallmark cards?

I'm always busy on World Book Day, but truth be told none of my best visits occur on that day. My best visits occur on a random day in November when I just happen to be in a school to talk about books and writing. On World Book Day it's hard to connect. 

Partly that's because - as any teacher will tell you - putting 300 kids in fancy dress and sitting them in a hall is never the best way to ensure complete focus. The first half hour of any World Book Day assembly is usually spent trying to persuade all the Harry Potters to stop poking all the Boys in  Dresses with their magic wands, and to tell the Marvel Super Heroes to stop punching the Disney Princesses with their power fists. 

One memorable year I was in a school where all the staff had decided to dress as crayons in a homage to The Day the Crayons Quit. However, as they had effectively put themselves in full length tubes for the day it meant they couldn't use their arms, or climb up stairs, or sit down, or do just about anything else...It was an almost perfect metaphor for the problems with World Book Day -  we so desperately want to show how much we love books, that in our effort to do so we make it impossible to pick one up. 

I have the best events when people are surprised by what I'm doing, who look at books afresh because of it, not at the end of a long week of stress and preparation where quite frankly the pressure of the fancy dress competition, teachers doing masked reading and the book fair have made everyone sick of the sight of books by the time Thursday rolls around. 

I don't know if it's a uniquely British thing, or just a human thing, but there is a tendency to commit so whole heartedly to a 'good thing' that it stops being enjoyable or even necessarily a 'good thing' anymore. There are pressures on schools to find authors and come up with events, pressures on authors to cram as many events into the week as possible and pressures on parents to come up with a costume and find the cash for a book or two. 

What is wrong with simply having a day that is focussed on books without all the rigmarole? I guess you wouldn't sell as many, but who cares? Because the truth is, the argument that it's good for business only applies to certain authors. There was a feature on World Book Day in The Daily Mail this week, the kids authors they chose to highlight? David Walliams, Julian Clary, Ricky Gervais and Tom Fletcher. So even when there's a golden opportunity to repoint the conversation around children's books towards authors who do it for a living, who go into schools even when it isn't World Book Day - shock horror! -  it's missed. 

I am aware this may all be sounding a little like sour grapes, but that's a perennial problem. If children's authors can't critique a day that is supposedly all about children's books then who can? It's the problem with universal 'good things'. They become bullet proof and that makes it impossible to even comment on them without being told you have some kind of agenda.  

The nation has decided that World Book Day is a good thing and therefore you can't criticise it - it's good for books and books are good for children, what kind of monster wouldn't want to encourage children to read -  and you call yourself an author! 

Yes, but could it be better? And is suggesting that we might just take it down a peg or two to focus on what it's actually about really that wrong? I'm just saying that if people spend more on the costume than they do on the actual book then maybe, just maybe, World Book Day has become about something else. 

And as if to prove a point, here's The Mail's World Book Day coverage today. 

Is it about an author? 

No, it's about Amanda Holden. 

Is it celebrating books? 

No, it's celebrating Heart FM. 

Time for a rethink yet?

The Struggle to Say No - Ciaran Murtagh

I struggle to say no. If someone asks me to do something - for money I might add, I'm not a mad man - I find it hard to turn it down. 

I don't know what it is that makes it so hard, but I have an idea.

My Dad grew up on a farm in the west of Ireland without running water or electricity. He sacrificed a lot to get me to where I am, and the idea that I might turn down money for something as simple as writing a story when he and his family worked so hard to get enough to buy something to eat feels all wrong. 

Then there's my own personal circumstances. 

I had my first child when I was 17. All of my professional life I've been working to put bread on the table - not for me, but for her. If I'm vain enough to try and make a living from writing stories, then I better make sure nobody else suffers for that, especially not my own children. There are other ways to make a regular income, if I'm turning my back on them then the alternative better pay. 

And moving on from that, I only started making a decent living in my late 30s. It's hard to shirk the hustle. It's also hard not to think it might all be taken away from you as quickly as it arrived.  Fortune is fickle, if you currently bask in its glow - make hay! 

So all of that leads me to the point I find myself. I turned down work and it feels really odd. 

Added to everything else, this particular moment in history makes it even harder to do. There are plenty without work or wage, to have the audacity to turn one's nose up at opportunity - today of all days! - seems particularly graceless.  

But here we are. 

It's happened twice in my professional life. I turned down the chance to work on a Moshi Monsters TV show because it was morally bankrupt, and I turned something else down this week because it just wasn't for me. 

As someone who is self employed and who has struggled for two decades to get opportunities to write for money, to turn them down seems counter intuitive.  But truth be told, it's vital. As Kenny Rogers said-  you gotta know when to hold them and know when to fold them. 

It's taken me a long time to be happy saying 'no', I'm still learning how, but sometimes you've got to listen to what your gut is telling you, and just bite the bullet. It means there's more time for you to do the stuff you do love. 

Speaking of which... 

This month 19 episodes of Danny and Mick debuted on CBBC - I had a hand in all of them. You can also see my work in Crackerjack and Big Fat Like, also on CBBC and Dave Spud is starting on CITV. See what you can achieve when you start saying 'no.'

Kids TV in the time of Covid, a success story - Ciaran Murtagh

Being a writer, the logistics of how I do my job in times of Covid doesn't change that much. Sure I might drink more Coke Zero and stay in my shed longer than is healthy, but I still use my brain and my computer to try and find funny things for people to do. 

The same cannot be said for everyone else who helps make TV. While I don't have to do anything different,  they've had to reinvent their entire jobs. 

Given that some of the TV shows I contributed to over lockdown are starting to see the light of day, I wanted to give a shout out to those unsung, gunge splattered heroes of kids TV who have done everything Eastenders and Strictly managed to do only quicker, funnier and with about an eighth of the budget. 

First up -Crackerjack. There's a whole new series on the way and all of it was filmed back in October in a time of great uncertainty. The Christmas special aired on BBC One over, well Christmas, and you can still see it HERE

Not only was it filmed in Manchester, at a time when Manchester was facing flip flopping restrictions, it is a show that relies heavily on a full studio audience bellowing it's catchphrase repeatedly at the top of their voices - not very Covid compliant. There's also lots of slapstick and non Covid compliant gunge with kids battling against each other in a series of silly games. 

Almost everything had to change. 

The studio audience went and games were made socially distanced. The presenters Sam and Mark were put in one bubble, the sketch cast in another and all the kids on the show had to maintain social distance from each other while doing very silly things. The crew had to work differently too. The only time anyone got close to the kids they had to be in a full body suit costume - the frankly terrifying cabbage monster - but it was the only way they could make Double or Drop work. 

They got ten episodes made, the very least you can do is check it out! I bet you won't even spot the joins, which is testament to the work that went in to making it happen. Take a bow. 

Big Fat Like began a few weeks ago. This show was filmed on location and is a parody of the internet - no pressure then. 

It was filmed over the summer as areas went in and out of lockdown. To find a location that they could definitely use for the duration of the shoot took a number of tries and a lot of patience. The cast were in a bubble in the location house, and the production crew were kept outside in a van, filming the whole thing as if it were an Outside Broadcast. Sketch shows are notoriously difficult to get right at the best of times, to film one while the majority of the crew aren't even in the same building is a stroke of genius. To make it funny to boot - take a bow! Catch up HERE. 

Danny and Mick began filming on the 9th March. They then stopped filming pretty quickly afterwards and started again in the summer. They have just delivered two series worth - or nineteen episodes -  of top quality laugh out loud telly and it all starts on CBBC TODAY.  

Now if that isn't something to shout about I don't know what is. Filming on location in a leisure centre is hard enough. Continuing to film while it pops in and out of lockdown and customers are allowed in and out of the venue is insane! 

The cast had to isolate for two weeks before filming started and then they remained in cast and crew bubbles throughout as they shot all 19 episodes for the series in under three weeks during August and September. To have finished filming in September and have it all ready to go by the first week in January demands a medal. They won't get one so this'll have to do.  Please check it out. I genuinely love this show. In a parallel universe it's on BBC One every Saturday. In this one you can find it HERE

Those shows were all live action, which posed a certain set of challenges, Dave Spud is a cartoon and that posed a whole load of different ones. 

We started writing this one in January 2020 and the first episodes hit the screen right after Christmas. You know the long list of names you see at the end of a cartoon? They all worked on this show without ever being in the same room. Some of them weren't even in the same country. The voice talent often recorded their parts remotely, sometimes in makeshift home studios with direction being given over a video link. Once again, I have no idea how they did it, I just know they did. Dave Spud is a quintessentially British cartoon. If you haven't seen it please do have a look - Basement Jaxx did the theme tune. It is THAT good. 

That's a small selection of what's been coming through, but by no means everything I - and many others - have worked on. All have kept going with a cheery disposition despite massive and varying disruption, making television for children because it's what they do best. 

I hope you enjoy watching it when it comes out and if you do, this year, of all years, take the time to watch the credits - these guys deserve every single one. 

Writing Animation - by Ciaran Murtagh

Over the past few weeks I've been asked to give some hints and tips on writing animation so I thought I'd put a few thoughts down here for anyone who might be interested.

As ever with these things, they're not hard and fast rules, nor a guarantee of success, but they're certainly things I wish I'd known before falling headlong into the industry. 

1) Watch lots of animation. Lots. 

Everyone knows that the way to be a good writer is to read, the same goes for animation - watch. Watch as much animation as you can, particularly for the age group you would like to write for. 

There are HUGE differences in tone, subject matter and style in animation and it's good to get a feel for what's out there before you start trying to do it yourself. 

Trawl through the BBC player, have a look at the furthest reaches of Netflix and Disney Plus, and see what's on CITV. They all broadcast cartoons, but they're all very different. Something like The Rubbish World of Dave Spud on CITV is very different from Dennis and Gnasher Unleashed on CBBC,  yet both are about British kids for predominantly British audiences. 

 

Channels have a house style and a house tone. They are keen to be distinct from each other and that is reflected in what they commission and how they are written. Have a look where you might fit best and work towards your natural home. Of course, over time you'll be able to bounce about, but in the first instance specialise. 

2) Age Range

Animation for kids, much like books, falls into age ranges. There are predominantly two - Preschool and Junior. So CBeebies, Disney Junior, Nick Junior, Milkshake are predominantly preschool, up to the age of about 6 give or take. Other channels such as CBBC, Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network aim older. 

Within all that there are also lots of different styles from something like Hey Duggee to Sarah and Duck to Messy Goes to Okido to Paw Patrol all falling under preschool. Tone is all important. Once you've narrowed down where you think you might fit channel wise, have a look at the age group you prefer to write for and analyse the content the channel shows. 

Are you more didactic, something like Numberblocks for example, or are you more left field - something like Hey Duggee. 

3) Know the Rules

All animation is different but most have consistent rules. Episodes are usually 11 minutes long, sometimes they might be 22 minutes long but that's not so common. For younger audiences there is more flexibility in length with some being 5 or 8 minutes long. Do your research and make sure that when you come to write you are writing a story that is exactly the length of the animation - it can't be a few seconds longer or shorter, it has to be what it is. 

Make sure your stories are stand alone, most series still broadcast self contained episodes and they want them to be broadcast in any sequence. You don't need to have seen episode 12 to understand episode 13 or vice versa. Sometimes you might get the opportunity to pitch a double episode, but they'll tell you that before you pitch. 

With the onset of streaming services this is changing somewhat, particularly with animation for older children, and series arcs are becoming more common - but again, they'll tell you if that's the case and it is still the exception rather than the rule. 

2D animation is usually cheaper to produce and there can be greater flexibility in creating new characters or locations. However, in the first instance try and reuse what you know already exists -  it will make you very popular. 

3D animation is expensive and it is often harder to make new characters and locations. Bare that in mind when pitching stories. There will never be a cast of thousands and asking for a new character to be created is a big ask unless the story really needs it. 

Know how many episodes are in a season - usually 52, but sometimes 26 or 13. Animation is usually commissioned in batches of that number. 

Know what has gone before, you will need to avoid overlapping with ideas or stories that have been  used in previous seasons. One of the keys to being a successful animation writer is looking for the gaps in a series that haven't been plugged yet. What stories haven't they told with the characters and locations in play and can you come up with something imaginative and new that they haven't yet used. 

4) Tips for Success

Listen to your head writers / producers and ask them questions if you're unsure. Even if you manage to come up with a great story that no one else has told and utilises things you know exist in the story world, there may be a reason why it hasn't been told before that you don't know about.  

Different channels have different rules and regulations and wish lists for what they can and can't do. Your producers and head writers will know that and will try and guide you towards what's possible. They want you to have strong story ideas, but they also want you to listen to guidance, you can have the best story idea in the world but if they know the BBC will never show it they have to guide you towards a version of the story that they will. 

Be prolific. When pitching ideas have six or seven topline stories that you might tell. Pitch them all and you may get one or two away. Pitch lots of shorter ideas rather than spending a long time on one or two. Producers are looking for 52 episodes, if they receive a document with six ideas, they'll usually have to dismiss a couple for not being feasible, a couple for being ideas other writers are working on and what's left over is the sweet spot! You stand more chance this way. 

The first animation I was commissioned on, I pitched over 50 stories until I got one away - be tenacious, and be persistent and learn from your mistakes. 

Keep to deadlines. 

Be nice. 

That's your lot - if there's any questions pop them in the comments and I'll do my best to answer. Good luck. 

Super Spreader? - Ciaran Murtagh

I’m on my way to Jordan. For a bit there it was touch and go, although with the Corona virus doing the rounds, touching and going is probably the last thing you want to be doing. This virus has got me thinking about the job I do and how to best protect myself and those I love from its impact. Should I be on my way to Jordan for example? Is that a good idea? Is it any more dangerous than staying in London with it’s massive population and huge amount of tourists? Probably not. I’m more likely to catch something in my local chicken shop than in a school halfway around the world.

Is it still responsible for me to visit schools in the UK over the next month? Over the course of world book week many of us travel the length and breadth of the country and come into contact with thousands of children. Does that make us potential super spreaders, or do we carry on as normal? Financial pressures on authors are getting tighter. The month of March is often an opportunity to swell some of those coffers with school visits and book sales. It’s hard to turn them down for the greater good. I suppose I could load up with hand sanitiser if there were any in the country.

It’s a fine line between managing a situation and creating a crisis -  you don’t want one to lead to the other. But it does feel that leadership has been lacking – or on holiday. I guess for now we carry on as normal. I’m resigned to the fact that I will probably get it and will then keep myself locked away for a week or two. 

What better way to finally finish the second draft of that book I’ve been working on for a few months? Every cloud and all that…

Ciaran Murtagh - Getting Back in the Saddle

This time of year is always tough for me. It feels like I've only just got back into my working rhythm after the disruption of the summer holidays then Christmas is upon us and it all goes out of the window.  The house is full, space is limited, the opportunity for routine is a Christmas wish too far and knuckling down for a few hours to get something meaningful written is nigh on impossible. Besides, everyone else seems to have given up on work for a month so why not join them?

So you do, and then here comes the new year and you're in the same house, but now everyone's gone, the decorations are down and the only company you have is a blank piece of paper. The solitude you've been longing for is all yours and you haven't a clue what to write. Typical.

The start of any year feels like I'm grinding through gears. It's at times like this that I envy the routine of an office job. You turn up, you know what you have to do, you get on with it and you get paid. Right now, I'm not ready for 2020. I really can't be bothered. I've got nothing I'm burning to write and the stuff I have to write is the fag end stuff that didn't quite make it into 2019.

The New Year should feel like the start of many new opportunities, and I'm sure they will come, but right now the prospect of getting off my mince pie saturated arse and digging them out is a daunting one. It's making something out of nothing. Again. Can I really be bothered to get back on the horse when pay is shrinking and work is hard to find?

It was the same at the start of 2019 and 2018 too. I know I will come out of it and get down to business, but for now, on the Saturday before 2020 really starts, I'm having a bit of a wallow. Christmas is over, the New Year is here, and it's much the same as last year really...

There is one thing that has changed though. I have another year of experience. I have another year of work under my belt. I'm aware that I always feel like this and that I will inevitably dig it out. At the moment 2020 already seems like an exhausting prospect. In a couple of days it may just seem like a year full of possibility and opportunity. But first, there's a couple of Quality Street left in the bottom of the tin and no one even bothered opening the mulled wine.  Seems a shame to waste it. See you in a month.

Writing: The Next Generation - Ciaran Murtagh

This month I was lucky enough to head up to Manchester with my family to watch an episode of Crackerjack being filmed. I've written quite a few sketches for this show and it was a real thrill to see them performed in front of a studio audience. One of the sketches featured past presenters - Stu Francis, Don MacLean, Bernie Clifton, Basil Brush and Jan Hunt. The idea of the sketch was for them to pass the baton onto new presenters Sam and Mark and it was quite moving watching these performers I had grown up with paying it forward in that way.

Stu Francis was the Crackerjack presenter I grew up with. He's partly responsible for me doing the job I do now. I never thought I'd ever end up writing for him, but this remarkable career sometimes throws up those moments. I was writing silly jokes for the man who made me appreciate the value of silly jokes in the first place.

Writers are often connected to generations past and present in a very tangible way. We spend time in schools learning from the writers of the future and we spend time with books learning from the writers of the past. There is a continuum to our craft and to our work that transcends the time and place in which it was written.

Sitting in the Crackerjack studio, 30 years later than perhaps would have been ideal for my 8 year old self, it struck me how much I had been inspired by it as a child.

It's not just the show itself though, the people making it have also paid it forward. The first bit of TV I ever wrote featured Sam and Mark, they now present the show. The first bit of TV I ever wrote was commissioned on spec by Steve Ryde, he's now executive producer of Crackerjack. He took a risk on me, gave me some of his time and expertise, and now I have a career in a business I knew nothing about a decade ago.

This week I got nominated for a writing Bafta. If Steve Ryde hadn't taken that chance, if Crackerjack hadn't made me appreciate the value of a pun, I might never have been in this position. I don't forget that, which is why it's important when someone reaches out for advice or mentorship I do my best to help. Most of our careers are a hotch potch of lucky breaks, hard work and the occasional helping hand.  It's our duty to find the time to pay it forward whenever we can.

Nothing good ever happens in October - Ciaran Murtagh

The leaves are falling from the trees, the nights are drawing in and I turned on the heating in my shed for the first time in months. Nothing like the scent of the million fly carcasses that have tumbled down the back of the radiator slowly turning into charcoal to get the creative juices flowing. They do say that for every great work of art there has to be an act of sacrifice, I wonder if this is the modern equivalent.

It’s October, our country is in a period of flux and uncertainty, the Christmas adverts have appeared in the shops, it is tempting to think that 2019 is nearly over. Put off whatever it is you were going to start until the halcyon uplands of 2020 appear. Anything’s possible in 2020. We’ll probably be writing with laser beams, commuting on hover boards, or more likely, fighting over prescription drugs and reminiscing about what bananas tasted like.

What I’m saying is, nothing good ever happened on a damp Friday in October. Nothing. The promise of the year is waning, curl under the duvet and think of Christmas. Being self employed we don’t even have office parties to look forward to – not that I ever really looked forward to them, but at least someone else bought the beer.

It can be hard to remember that there’s still three months left. Three whole months. That's loads of time to turn it all around. As a redhead, it's always been my favourite time, and frankly the only one my colouring coordinates with. 

But in a world governed by advertising, we’ve had our summer holidays, there’s just Halloween, bonfire night and then Christmas left to go -  what's the point in starting something now? It can be easy to get demotivated, to start wishing the days away, to take a cue from the seasons and start bedding down for the year. 2019 is done. 

Don’t.

There’s loads of time. The best is yet to come. Make the most of it. It could still be your year. 

Write the thing, do the thing, make the thing.

Everyone wants to give up their job and write a book in January. Nobody wants to do it in October. Be that person, steal the march, get to the agents when they’re quiet (er). Get your ducks in a row, make your plans and don’t be conned into thinking 2019 has passed you by. October is where it’s at baby! 

2019 isn't done and dusted.  You’ve got a quarter of the year left. 2019 could still be your year.  Grab it.