Bottle

So I finished the “re-write” of my novel earlier this week and found myself on the crest of a wave of excitement and anticipation. It wasn’t bad. Not bad at all. Feedback from the few who have received advance copies has been good and my wife who, believe me, would tell me in no uncertain terms if it was crap, has given it a big thumbs up.

I’m ready, I thought.

For the next step.

Acquiring an agent.

I did an initial search on-line. And straightaway found the wave dropping away from me like the start of a tsunami and disappearing down the nearest drain.

Without exception their web sites are cold, clinical, unwelcoming places full of corporate speak and self advertising. Finding one single link to the submissions page is a labour of Hercules. They keep that particular doorway well hidden. Almost as if they don’t really want people to find it.

Plus finding an agent who (a) is accepting unsolicited work and (b) taking work of the genre that best fits what I have written is another labour entirely. I managed to bookmark a few but they have another list of hoops for the potential author to leap through. Everything must be just so or they won’t even look at your work.

One even demanded a CV.

A CV?! This is my first novel! Aside from a bit of poetry and a short story I’ve not been published before!

I tried the old trick of picking a few successful authors and searching for their agents. What a waste of time that was. J.K. Rowling’s agent is not taking any new work at the moment. They’re inundated. Possibly because of the success of J.K. Will Self’s agent had a very cold pop-up window which virtually said thank you but no thank you if we haven’t already heard of you. Other writers who decorate the spines on my bookshelf are either American or Japanese. I’ve nothing against acquiring an overseas agent but they do tend to take a higher percentage of any earnings – 20% and above. Rather steep.

The end result of all this wall-banging was that it totally shrivelled up by burgeoning little author’s ego and sapped me of all confidence. It made me lose my bottle and I went back to checking my emails instead.

I’ve come back round since then. Karen has bought me a couple of advice books for writers and the Writer’s Yearbook is always a hardy reference manual on my bookshelf. I shall read the relevant sections, gird my loins and pitch myself into the Rejection Game once more. I’d got hardened to it when I was writing poetry. I daresay I shall harden up again.

Bottle is all well and good. But bulletproof glass is the thing required...

Half Blood Prince

+++ SPOILER WARNING +++

So. The difficult 6th movie adapted from the difficult 6th book.

I took to the Harry Potter movies from the offset (yes, even with the occasionally irritating kiddy acting) but came to the novels late. In fact, up to the last movie (The Order Of The Phoenix) I’d staunchly avoided reading any of the books. I’d enjoyed the films so much I wanted my enjoyment of them to continue unalloyed and I didn’t want to join the miserable members of the “oh it wasn’t as good as the book” club.

However, the complete boxed set on Amazon last summer put paid to that and I ended up reading all 7 novels straight through in a matter of weeks.

So I went into this film fully armed with the gospel truth according to J. K Rowling and my membership card to the “oh it wasn’t as good as the book” club all ready to be stamped and issued.

And have I joined the whining members of that club?

No. I haven’t.

I will say this though: the movie isn’t as full as the book – but then that is inevitable. Movies can never be as full or as all encompassing as the books they are adapted from. And thank God for that, I say. It is a fact that should be embraced. Movies are a different beast entirely and should be / must be accepted as such.

They are a different discipline. A new thing entirely. They are a filter, not a mirror.

And David Yates, the director of The Half Blood Prince, has proved himself to be a very adept filter.

The Half Blood Prince is an odd book. Unlike the other novels there is no overriding mission or endeavour – the book focuses on relationships, on romance with the activities of Voldermort (via Draco Malfoy) very much on the back burner. The threat remains hidden until the last scenes when suddenly the whole world comes crashing down with the shocking violence of Dumbledore’s murder.

Yates builds up to this nicely in the film – there is plenty of humour and laughs but the darkness is never too far away. The duel between Potter and Malfoy is short, brutal and bloody. The horror and shock of it is well handled – as is Malfoy’s attack on Potter in the early stages of the film. And yet I felt that Yates pulled his punch with Dumbledore’s murder. I felt that, compared to the book, it had been sanitized. A little fluffed. Instead of the sickening lurch of Rowling’s prose (that isn’t a comment on her writing style) we got a tasteful floaty-fall from the highest tower reminiscent of Gandalf falling into the mine of Moria.

It’s just a small gripe and is part and parcel of the whole franchise being aimed at kids I suppose. Or maybe I’m just being too bloodthirsty?

The only other gripe I had was that Snape’s part of the story (which is rather essential) was downgraded far too much in the film. He should have had way much more screen time but I’m honestly not joining the “Oh it wasn’t as good as the blah blah blah” club, honestly I’m not.

‘Cos these gripes aside I thought the film was superb and well worth the wait. Jim Broadbent was perfect as Slughorn and the usual triumvirate of Radcliffe, Grint and Watson were a joy. There is such subtlety to their performances now, especially Watson as Hermione, that their interlinked relationships carry the film without any apparent effort – they must look back at their performances in the earlier films and cringe. Bonnie Wright as Ginny Weasley stepped into the limelight as Harry’s love interest and exuded a strength and confidence which was a perfect foil to Radcliffe’s / Potter’s bumbling abashedness. She also should have been given much more screen time in my opinion.

It took me a while to get used to Michael Gambon as Dumbledore. Richard Harris had such a warmth about him that Gambon seemed cold in comparison but he seems to have softened himself into the role over the last two films. In The Half Blood Prince Gambon IS Dumbledore and I found his performance poignant and sensitive. The failing health, the fading strength, the acceptance of his fate was all there in the way he moved – which is something I have never expected from Gambon before. Suddenly in The Half Blood Prince I notice him as an innately physical actor rather than just verbal.

So. The difficult 6th movie is a success. As good as the last film? Hmm. I’ll be honest and say perhaps not. To be fair, it never could be. The Half Blood Prince is a scene setter. The final moves before the end game begins. The antechamber to the great hall of the finale.

Yates has set the dominoes up nicely.

I’m packing my mixed metaphors into an old kit bag and booking my seat on the front row right now.

On The HP

The definition of a good book: you don’t want it ever to end but you’re unable to stop yourself racing through at breakneck speed to the final page...

I completed Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows over the weekend and I feel quite bereft now that it’s all over.

It sounds pathetic, doesn’t it? It’s just a kid’s book for Christ’s sake! And years ago I was one of those people who steered myself away from the HP books with an avidity that now seems ridiculous. There’s too much hype, I thought. Too much hysteria. Too many people rave about it therefore the books can’t possibly be any good.

That kind of thing.

Then I got into the movies.

I confess, I love them. They get better and better and I’m already excited about the new one that is currently in production. I’m a HP movie devotee.

But even up until the last film – The Order Of The Phoenix – I still refused to read the books. In fact on this here very blog I proudly pronounced that I would not read the books until the film franchise was fully completed.

What rot!

Once I spied the books on Amazon – the complete 7 in a nice embossed boxed set – I had to own them. And once I owned them... well. What’s the point of having books sitting around the house and not reading them?

So a number of weeks ago I pitched in with the first and kept at it until the final page of the final book...

And it’s been great. It’s been wonderful. Yes, they’re kid’s books but they’re not just kid’s books. They work on many different levels. I’m amazed at how deeply I was sucked into them. How intense the journey has been. Maybe I need to get out more but a series of books hasn’t gripped me like this since I was a teenager. I gave myself willingly to the entire HP world and was happy to lose myself there.

My respect for J.K. Rowling is immense. Speaking as someone who is three quarters of their way through their first novel I take my hat off to someone who can plot 7 so deftly and so completely and still keep the reader hanging on until the very end. It might not be Shakespeare. It might not be Rushdie. It might not be the stuff of a lot of “worthier”, more intellectual writers but you know what? I don’t care. There’s a lot to be said for a good story written so well that you actually wish it were real. For characters that you become emotionally attached to.

Harry Potter for kids? Pah! Why should kids get all the good stuff? It’s too good for ‘em I say.

For those of you who are still cynically resisting the lure of HP... give it a go. You will be surprised. For those of you who are already in the know. Well, just say hi and smile.

As for what I do now... well, I need to start prepping for my final Uni module next academic year. Vikram Seth’s “A Suitable Boy” is next on my reading list. Karen tells me it is excellent.

And I’m sure it is.

But my heart is still at Hogwarts...