Quality not quantity, less is more.

I am most definitely from the school of only saying something if you've got something interesting to say. So therefore, from looking at the sporadic entries on this blog, it's safe to assume that most of the time I don't. Which is true. I'm very rarely inspired to write off my own back these days. I spend so many hours of my time writing for money, that when it comes to writing for pleasure, the opportunity and motivation is seldom and far between. That's not to say I don't enjoy getting paid for writing, I do, it's bloody marvellous. Getting told what to write about is perfect for me, as ideas really are my downfall. But very very occasionally I do have a few ideas of my own, a bit of time to spare, a semi-reliable internet connection, and sentences forming in my head that won't leave me alone until they're committed to the screen.

Personally, I think that this is the best way to be when it comes to writing. Yes,, you could churn something every day, but unless you live an amazingly exciting life, or are some kind of creative genius able to produce a valid piece of work every day, then it's nothing but internet noise. And the internet is pretty bloody noisy already, thank you very much.

However, 2 months 2 blog posts...I'm practically flooding the internet.

Today has been a day of thoughts, ideas, projects and creativity. Definitely one of the most interesting Saturdays I've had in a while. I'm currently working on the content for a website for a friend (I say friend, actually my former bosses now also my current bosses mum, who I also worked with at said company). She's selling her apartment in St Lucia and wants to set up a website to help. So I have been offered the rather mild task of reseraching the island and writing the website content about it. Meaning that this morning I got to slip into town and pick up and number of large, heavy brochures and sit in Costa for a couple of hours making notes. I quite enjoy the research part of writing something, gathering together all the details and making notes that eventually will be turned into (hopefully) a lovely bit of prose. And with a subject such as St Lucia, and it's lush surroundings, tropical paradise, and unspolit environment, there's loads of great language to be ultilised, and I'm looking forward to writing it all up. Of course, no doubt I'll go over the top, because at the end of the day we're selling the apartment, not the island. But still, any excuse. And of course, the glace finishing detail is that I'm getting paid for it. Lovely.

After making copious bullet points and returning to the palace, my day took a very unsettling turn. After baking a huge chocolate cake (to be consumed by Wednesday, when I'm giving up for Lent), I settled down with the Guardian, my Saturday paper of choice. In a change to my usual routine, Ibrowsed through the Guide quickly, and then actually sat and read the news section from cover to cover, a section that is normally discarded in it's fresh from the printing press condition. There was a very interesting interview with Christopher Bailey, head honcho at Burberry, and some other enjoyable pieces. I then picked up the magazine, which would normally be my second port of call, and was more than a little taken aback to notice a dark, almost sinister picture of Jon Richardson on the front, with the strapline 'Impossible perfectionist, 27, seeks very very tidy woman'. Immediately intriguied by, and of course hugely excited that my favourite comedian had made it onto the cover of the Guardian magazine, I flicked through to the article straight away.

What I found still very much confuses, worries and, to a certain degree upsets me. Instead of an interview where Jon could push his various comedic ventures - his upcoming tour, his appearance on new BBC 2 show 'The Bubble', hell, even Edinburgh, I found something very different. It was a hefty article penned by Jon himself, with no introduction, q and a portion, or anything that gave away who he was and what he did to the unitiated (apart from at the very end). The subject of the article, was, naturally and aptly, love. Or rather, Jon's lack of it, in any form. For seven years. Essentially it was an (albeit very well writen), self-examination of why he hadn't been in a relationship for seven years, and that the reason for this was that, because he is such a perfectionist (the subject of his current stand-up show) no one will ever live up to this, and that eventually, all his relationships would end because in the beginning we're only every pretending, and once his partner's bad habits (I say bad habits...we're talking everyday general living...not having an alphabetised CD collection, leaving the teaspoon in the sugar bowl) will be revealed and he won't be able to live with them due to his insanely high levels of hygiene and cleanliness. And a wee bit of OCD. He also briefly mentioned other areas of his life that he had simply give up on because it couldn't ever be perfect first time, like sports or learning instruments, and that one night stands just don't interest him, because everything has to be perfect first time.

And the very last line said' Jon Richardson is a stand-up comedian currently on tour. for dates go to offthekerb.co.uk'. And that was it. Now I have a bit of a backstory to this, and why I am so surpirsed that, after been given premium space in the Guardian, this article was the end result.

Jon Richardson is doing a gig at my work next Friday. I knew that it would be an easy show to sell - no marketing required. And this was indeed the case. However, about a month ago, Jon's agent, Off the Kerb, starting hassling me about increasing the capacity for his show. Which we duly did, despite this meaning that the room would be absolutely crammed, stupidily hot, and Jon will have about the floor space of a postage stamp to stand on. This meant we had a few more tickets to sell, but I had no doubt that, by next Friday, these would be gone. A few days later I was asked by 2 separate employees of Off the Kerb if we could put Jon on the homepage of our website. I explained that no we couldn't as we used this space for last minute announcements, important info, or as a last minute push for a show. Jon was none of these things. Clearly this did not go down well, and a week later they asked the same questions, to which they got the exact same answer. They also asked if the show could be moved to the bigger theatre space. I explained that, with a week to the gig, this simply wasn't possible, and that we already had an act in the larger space that evening. Then they asked if the gig could be moved to be a bigger space on a different date. Having spent more than one afternoon having to ring round scores of disappointed people to tell them that a show had been moved, I was more than a little bit not keen on this option. So we put our foot down and said no.

But my point is this - why would an agency so keen on pushing their artist at every available opportunity allow Jon Richardson to appear on the cover of the Guardian magazine in relative anonyimity? Whilst of course, he is his own man and can think for himself, media and press appearances are ultimately in the ands of the agency. It simply doesn't make sense.

And on a personal point of view, this article made me really sad. He is essentially crying out for a girlfriend, no doubt many of his fans up and down the country will take this as a green light so simply throw themselves at this usually shy, reserved man. Is this what he wants? Was this simply a glorified loney hearts coloumn and a simple way of getting laid? I'd like to hope not, but I'm fairly sure that he is not naive enough to realise that this wouldn't be a direct result of publishing the article. I've no doubt that girls already proposition him after shows, and I know people that've seen it happen, and seen him turn them down accordingly. So why this sudden u-turn? Or is it an attempt to alienate them...a sort of 'I'm really weird, I bet you don't want to sleep with me after readying this' manifesto? He comes across as a sad, lonely man umlikely to ever find happiness. And yet his job is to make people laugh. But this is taking it too far - personally I'm not sure I can now listen to his stand-up show in the same way again, without simply feeling sorry for him. On the other hand, it could of course be part of a huge publicity stunt, engineered by Off the Kerb, and he is in fact nothing like this. But being a writer, and having studied writing, this comes across as very very honest, and it would've taken a hell of a creative writer to make it up. Which Jon Richardson isn't - he's an observational comedian, calling it like it is.

So none of these thoughts fills me with glee. I simply can't see a beneficial outcome to this article. Perhaps, I shouldn't be looking for one, but we all know that the media industry doesn't work like that. Perhaps it was simply an alternative view over the Valentine's Day Weekend. But if it was I'm fairly sure the Guardian would've plugged it like that.

Since doing my job, I am losing my faith in the comedy industry more and more, to the point where I cannot take a show at face value anymore without thinking about the politics behind it. This is another example of that. Of course, the timing exacerbates the siutation - I have been looking forward to Jon coming to work ever since it was programmed last year. But this has really made me reconsider, and had I not paid for my tickets on Friday, I may have even considered not going.

So, there are my interesting Saturday thoughts. Some other exciting things have also happened, or may potentially happen, but quite frankly I'm all worded out. And I wouldn't want to overload everyone for the sake of it now, would I.