Tag: WRITERS

7 Reasons It’s Time To Fin…

Hello people of the world and of other places that we’re less familiar with. We have an announcement to make. It’s time to fin….Here are (wait for it! Wait for it!) seven reasons why.

1. Familiarity Breeds Apathy – Part A (Us). The more observant of you will have noticed that 7 Reasons has been rocking the internet for two years. In the beginning we made a promise to ourselves – and you – that we would post every single day. And, for the most part, we did. For the statisticians among you our strike-rate was a healthy 92.28%. The problem is, as time passed, we grew weary of the 7 Reasons format. By the time we published our 690th post/4,830th reason, the joy had dissipated. It had become more of a chore than an enjoyment. So we’re stepping back. We’re tearing up our promise and changing it to something like, ‘7 Reasons for something or other if and when we think of it, which we might. Possibly. Or not’. In other words, the relentless day to day posting is a thing of the past. Instead we’ll post irregularly. As and when we think of things. The joy will come back, the writing will be more fun for us and angry emails accusing each other of failing to deliver will cease. We might even become friends.

2. Familiarity Breeds Apathy – Part B (You). We’re modern men. We can pick up signals. As a 7 Reasons reader – and we are thankful to all of you who turn to us for your lunchtime* reading – we know it’s easy to think it’s okay to miss a post. And of course it’s okay. As strange as it may seem, we’re not your parents, and we’re especially not your mother. What isn’t acceptable is why you’re missing them. Don’t like the topic? Fine. Too busy at work? Fine. Happy to miss one because there’ll be another one along tomorrow? Not fine. Again, that’s not what 7 Reasons is supposed to be about. So by going to an irregular format, we’re making 7 Reasons posts a novelty. Something to cherish and savour.

3. Autophagia. That’s right. We’ve begun to eat ourselves. 7 Reasons has become a part of our daily lives. And not necessarily in a good way. In a bygone era we had blogs and if something grabbed our attention we’d write about it there. If it didn’t, we’d leave it well alone. In the past two years we haven’t been able to leave anything alone. It has been impossible to do anything without working out how a 7 Reasons post could be made out of it. While it was kind of fun for us initially – and is great for friends who keep suggesting topics, no matter how hard we try to stop them – it’s actually a quite restrictive format to write to. And 7 Reasons was never meant to make us cantankerous old gits. But that’s what we’ve become. It’s time the old Marc and Jon came out to play again. The uncynical Marc and Jon. The ones who – on seeing a woman falling down a manhole cover – would feel obliged to effect a rescue (or at least make a video), rather than to begin writing 7 Reasons Women Shouldn’t Fall Down Manholes.***

4. Time. A lot of it has been dedicated to 7 Reasons. Remember the good old days when Jon was busily planning 83-trips back and forth across America, catching 100 buses in one night, searching the world for his best-friend’s look-alike, growing a mo and making Richard Bacon seem interesting? Well, in the last two years he hasn’t done any of that sort of thing. And that’s not what 7 Reasons was supposed to do. It wasn’t supposed to consume so much time. Its overbearing beat wasn’t supposed to dominate the rhythm of our lives.

“What’ve you been doing today Marc?” friends ask.

“7 Reasons,” comes the reply.

And that’s the same conversation both of us have been having for the last two years**. We want to be able to reply with, “I’ve been writing a script”, “I painted six sheep luminous yellow” or “I’ve been wondering why See Hear has a theme tune”. We want to be fun again. Or daft. Or both. And we will be.

5. Archive. There’s enough stuff here already. There’s bloody loads of it. There are many, many very good posts here containing some of our best words that have barely been read at all. Every once in a while, someone will discover one of them, dust it off, share it with their friends and it’ll get loads of hits for a few days and then it’ll quieten down again. Then another thing that even we’d forgotten we’d written will get discovered and shared around the world. If you think you’ve read every post you’re probably wrong. Or, even if you’re right, you’ve probably forgotten them by now and could read them again afresh. If you think of 7 Reasons as a goldfish bowl, we have put the gravel and water in, plus the castle, the diver, some food and a post about attacking a train with stones and excrement. You (the golden fish in this scenario) can merrily swim around here forever reading and rereading things with nary a hint of deja vu. We have written enough.

6. It’s Not Like We’re Totally Going Away. We’re not. We’re still running the Emporium – in fact, we’re putting new merchandise into it soon – and we’ll still be doing strange things to the back end of the website in the middle of the night, usually with disastrous consequences. We just won’t be here every day. Well, we probably will, we just won’t be saying anything with our words. Or our pictures. So we won’t be posting anything under Daily Posts any more. Instead, we’ll be posting things under New Posts, should the mood take us. We’ll also still be happy to accept good guest posts from readers(/writers) that we know. After all, guest posts are brilliant. Sometimes it’s as if they just write themselves.

7. Because We’ve Started Talking French. After all, it’s not goodbye. It’s au revoir. Au revoir!

*Midnight reading if it’s a Fearns’ day

**Not together

***Unintentional innuendo win

October 27, 2011
7 Reasons That You Shouldn’t Read (on the toilet)

This is a subject that totally divides the sexes. For some reason, reading in the toilet is something that women just don’t do, and they’re right. I agree. I read a lot. I’m also a man. To some people, this could mean that I might reasonably be expected to be found reading on the toilet, or would be, if people were in the habit of finding other people on the toilet which fortunately – for the most part – they’re not. But I won’t be found reading in the toilet ever, because I won’t be reading on the toilet in the first place – unless I’m dealing with some sort of emergency that requires me to use the toilet and read important instructions simultaneously. Like coming face to face with a self-assembly lion. Other than that, however, reading while using the toilet is something that shouldn’t ever be done. Here are seven reasons why.

This: Don’t do it.

1. It’s Disgusting. We’ve all seen those shock-docs in which restaurant toilets are subjected to ultra violet/infra-red/magic-poo-seeing light, and they don’t make comfortable viewing. They show specks of faecal matter (close your eyes if you’re at all squeamish) spattered (you can open them again now) on far walls, high ceilings, behind sinks and well, just about everywhere, and the nearer to the toilet the surface is, the more bottom-mud there will be on it. So if you’re reading a book while you’re using the toilet, or even leaving a book near the toilet, it’s going to get faeces on it. That is an undesirable trait in a book.

2. It’s Disgusting Multiplied. Having left your excrement all over your book, once you’ve finished it you’ll return it to your library or lend it to a friend or a colleague who’ll probably read it in a normal place like a chair or a bed or something. So not only are they taking your shit with them into their bed, they could well become ill while reading it. “I seem to have picked up a horrible stomach bug,” your colleague will tell you as they call in sick,” still, at least it gives me some time to read the book you lent me.” You’ll have poisoned them. And you’ll probably end up covering their workload at the office too, while they lounge around at home. The only winner in this scenario is Jeremy Kyle.

3. It’s Just Weird. Well it is. Why, out of all the things that men do so brilliantly well, is the only example of their multi-tasking prowess the ability to poo and read simultaneously? Is it that the very act of sitting down on the toilet feminises them and renders them suddenly capable of doing more than one thing at once? And why don’t women read on the toilet? They’re always telling us they can do fifteen things at the same time (often while they’re burning something in the kitchen or standing on the cat’s tail) but put them on the toilet – where no one can see them – and they suddenly become mono-taskers. Does this mean that the multi-tasking stuff is all for show? If you put a toilet and a book together in the same place and you get more questions than answers. Unless, of course, the book is a book of answers. They can only be trumped by a toilet of questions.

4. What If Someone Else Wants The Bathroom? There are other people in the world too. Other people that might conceivably want to use the toilet for the actual purpose of using the toilet. It’s no fun for someone to have to hang around outside the bathroom crossing their legs and screwing up their face while shrieking, “I need the toilet! I need the toilet!” with increasing desperation (well, it is, but not for them). It’s like Superman. Does he ever think about people that need to make a phone call when he’s using a phone box to change into his costume? No he bloody doesn’t. And their phone call might be an emergency. He’s an inconsiderate bastard. Essentially, if you read on the toilet you’re just like Superman.*

5. Health & Safety. It’s not just about books any more. There are hi-tech reading devices out there that the hapless and misguided might conceivably try to use while in the smallest room. Kindles, for example. But no one knows what possible effects would occur if they dropped an electronic book into the toilet (I googled it**). It would stop working, that’s obvious, but it also contains a battery so, I assume, it’s possible that it could short-circuit and send a small electrical charge through the water in the toilet bowl if dropped. Now if you were connected to the water in the bowl in some way (by a stream of liquid perhaps, you are in the toilet, after all), you’d get an electrical shock. Right in the very last place you’d want one. They’re not even allowed to torture people like that at Guantanamo Bay. They’re restricted to water-boarding them there, or forcing them to spell Guantanamo. The monsters.

6. What If You Run Out Of Paper? Outside of Kerry Katona, is there anything more tragic and desperate than someone that has just discovered there’s no toilet paper once they’ve completed a movement? Probably not. At that moment, people will use anything that’s near to hand (perhaps even their hand). If they’re reading a book, there’s no question that they’ll tear a page or two out and use that to wipe themselves with. But what if they’re reading the Bible? That would be blasphemous. What if they’re reading the Encyclopedia Britannica? They could end up ignorant about aardvarks or Zurich. What if they’re reading Dan Brown? That would be hopeless as the pages are covered in shit already. It’s just better not to have a book within reach in the first place.

7. Pity The Writers. At 7 Reasons, we’re generally just happy and flattered that people read us at all. But we’re also British and, as such, feel duty-bound to uphold notions of taste and decency and to urge our readers toward decorous behaviour. So we have to draw a line. And that line is at the bathroom door. We can’t write while imagining our readers on the toilet and you probably don’t want to be imagined using the toilet by us while we write***. For our sake, as well as yours, you should never – even though you probably weren’t considering it anyway – read 7 Reasons in the toilet. You should, of course, continue to outfit yourself in your Sunday best before settling down in your parlours and libraries to read us, just as you’re doing now. Nice hat, madam, by the way.

*This argument hasn’t gone well.

**I did find many instances of people dropping their iPhones down the toilet but that just made me laugh a lot. Or is it lAugh?

***That sentence took nine rewrites before it even made partial sense.

February 22, 2011
7 Reasons That Writer’s Block is Frustrating

Whether you’re a blogger, a journalist, a novelist, a playwright or a poet, writer’s block can be both debilitating and frustrating. Here are seven reasons why.

Yes, It's Microsoft Word 1897!

1. Because You Call Yourself A Writer. I sometimes call myself a writer. Mostly because that’s what I do. I write. Every day. I didn’t start doing it regularly until my thirties, but I’ve studied literature my whole life, from pre-school to university. And I feel comfortable when I refer to myself as a writer; because I do it all the time and, I like to imagine, quite well. I don’t make my living from writing: I’ve never even been paid for writing; in fact – owing to the vagaries of the publishing system – I’ve been offered more money not to write than I have to write. Yes, actual soft cash (made of paper, so better than hard cash), and I turned it down. Because I’m an idiot. And I would have had to have called myself a not-writer. A professional not-writer. And that’s not who I am. But you can only call yourself a writer if you actually write something.

2. Because It’s Hard To Explain. It’s hard to explain not being able to write to non-writers, because – to them – it’s a natural state. How would you explain the absence of writing to someone that isn’t a practitioner of the art? I’ll have a stab at it: Imagine that you’re reading a blank page. But that page is important. In fact, the words on that page are fundamental to your very life, soul, being, self-image and existence. But you can’t see them. And you need them. They’re vital. Oh, and you’re naked. Well that’s pretty much what it’s like. But much worse. Because your foot hurts and it’s cold where you are.

3. Because You Can Think Of Things To Write, They’re Just Not Appropriate. I could, right at this moment, fashion a discourse highlighting the influence of John Mayall on the British blues movement or analyse Romania’s under-reported role in the holocaust. But I’m not writing a piece on the development of British music, or on World War II, I’m writing for a humour site. Which is a shame as there’s very little else in my head except for: “There’s nothing in your head you silly man”, “My foot hurts” and “Oooh, I quite fancy a sandwich”; yet eating the sandwich won’t help you because…well…it’s eating a sandwich, which is different to writing (it’s more Marmitey and less like Tolstoy) and your audience probably won’t appreciate a piece entitled 7 Reasons I Stopped Staring Blankly at a Screen and had a Sandwich Instead as it would be at least six reasons light and it would probably make them hungry. Well, half of them, the other half probably don’t like Marmite.

4. Because You Have A Deadline. Yes, there’s always a deadline that you need to hit. And, when I was staring at my blank screen it was imminent. After all, I have other things to do in addition to writing. I’m a man, I need simple things; that sandwich, sleep, words to magically appear on my screen (or in my head, I’m not lazy, I’ll happily type them out), but mostly sleep. Because I’ve been busy all day and I’m tired. But I need to write these words, so with bloodshot eyes I continue to stare at the screen, because inspiration will strike if I stare at it for long enough, surely?

5. Because Of Modern Technology. And I’m staring at the blank screen on a computer. That’s right, a computer. A machine connected to the world that contains many, many distractions. So when you find yourself failing to write words on a screen, you’ll soon find yourself watching people falling off bicycles on Youtube. And shortly, you’ll find yourself on Twitter. Not tweeting about WWII or John Mayall, but about other topical and funny stuff. And you’re actually being funny on Twitter. In the written word! But not in any way that inspires your next day’s piece, and that doesn’t help matters; in fact, it’s bloody frustrating, as the irony of the situation won’t escape you. You will briefly toy with the idea of tweeting tomorrow’s piece, and disregard it. Eventually. But not before you’ve wasted much precious writing time considering it, while sucking on a pencil: A pencil without any lead in it.

6. Because Of Self-Doubt. Why do I write? If you ever found yourself asking that, you would never, ever do it. Because writing defies all logical sense. Why, in the name of all that is holy, in the name of all that is unholy, or in the name of all that isn’t there (I think I’ve covered everyone) would anyone choose to spend their time spewing-forth words from their brains to their fingers to their screens. “I could be doing other things at the moment,” you’ll find yourself thinking. “I could be doing other things that normal people do like watching other people sitting in a “jungle” or watching other people dancing badly or watching other people that can’t sing, sing or”…and suddenly writing makes sense again.

7. Because You’ll Get There In The End. And eventually, you’ll think of something to write about. Because that’s what you do, you’re a writer. Even if you do end up writing about not-writing, even if you end up raw-eyed and sweaty, even if you end up writing with the rapier-like-insight and élan of an addled baboon, there’ll be something. Because however much you think you have nothing to say, however hard you think it is, there will always be something. And that’s when you know that you should write. And that you should have a shower.

November 23, 2010
Not A Guest Post: 7 Reasons The Guest Post Feature Isn’t Always Skittles And Champagne

Hello. It’s a Saturday. You probably knew that already. You may have also known that Saturday is our Guest Post day. One of you step into our shoes and sit on our sofa. Today though, I am wearing my own shoes. Due to various reasons (probably seven), we don’t have a guest writer today. So it’s over to me. In recent weeks, without even talking about it, Marc and I have fallen into a pattern. I do Saturday, Marc does Sunday. Probably because all potential guest writers email me personally. I don’t know why this, but I imagine it has something to do with the ginger moustache. While most of the time potential guest writers seem to grasp the concept, it is not always the case. Here is a look at some of the more challenging aspects I encounter when dealing with guest post submissions.

1. Enquiry: “Can I write ‘7 Ways/Things/Places…’. My Reply: “I’m afraid 7 Reasons is purely a reasons site and as such all posts must begin ‘7 Reasons’. If you could change your post to feature 7 Reasons we would love to read it.” What I Want To Write: “No you can’t! Did the title of the site not give you a clue? It says 7 Reasons. It’s fairly bloody obvious. If you can’t read how the hell can you expect to write?”

2. Enquiry: “I have an idea for a 7 Reasons piece, can you write it for me?” My Reply: “I’m afraid all guest posts must be written by the originator of the idea. It helps to give the site a different tone of voice and perspective. I like your topic idea though, so if you can write the post we would love to read it.” What I Want To Say: “It’s called a Guest Post. The clue is in the title. I am not a guest. I also note that your idea is rubbish. Go away.”

3. Enquiry: “I’m thinking of writing for you. Are there any topics you’d like me to cover?” My Reply: “The Guest Post feature was created so that you can write about whatever you like.” What I Want To Say: “I am not stupid. If I was to give you an idea for a topic, that means I’ve got to spend another three hours thinking of something for Monday. Do it yourself!”

4. Enquiry: “If I write for you, will you write for me?” My Reply: “I’m afraid not. While we are happy to link to your site in your guest post, we are in no position to do an exchange of posts. Please do send us your submission though. We’d love to read it.” What I Want To Say: “Go away you silly little man. It’s one thing trying to increase the number of visitors to your site by writing for us, it is quite another getting us to do your job for you.”

5. Enquiry: “Hello. I like your site. I would like to write for you. How would I do this?” My Reply: “Hi. Thanks for showing an interest in writing for us. We’d love to receive a submission from you. Please read our guidelines on the site for an idea of what we are looking for.” What I Want To Say: “Open Word and start writing, you absolute tit.”

6. Enquiry: “ومرفق طيه تقديم بلدي ضيفا على وظيفة.” My Reply: “Pardon?” What I Want To Say: “صفعة بلدي الكلبة حتى”

7. Enquiry: “Can you use my ‘7 Reasons To Indulge In Necrophilia’ post?” My Reply: “While we try and encourage a wide variety of topics, I am afraid we have to draw the line when it comes to promoting illegal activity.” What I Want To Say: “I have forwarded your post to the police. And your local church.”

August 14, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: How To Write A 7 Reasons Post

Since the inception of 7 Reasons, we have – as often as possible – given our Saturdays over to one of you. It helps mix it up and I am sure it’s always good to have a different tone of voice to enjoy your breakfast with. However, the feedback we always get from our guest writers is, ‘it was really hard to think of 7 reasons’. The answer we usually get from people we approach to write for us is, ‘no, I won’t be able to think of 7 reasons for anything’. Well by way of an education, this is my attempt at showing you how it can be done.

1. Everything is a possible subject. Wherever you are, look around you. (Though come back to the screen in 10 seconds because I still require your attention). Whatever you can see could be a subject. A vase. A chair. A window. A packet of chocolate digestives. Just pick one.

2. Question Time. Ask yourself questions about your chosen subject. Let’s say it’s a vase. (I haven’t thought about this before. I am writing it as I go. If it goes horribly wrong I’ll rewrite using biscuits, but that won’t happen because I have faith in my ability to write about vases). a) What would I do to that vase to make it better? b) Why is it made out of glass? c) What else could it be used for?

3. Answer your questions. a) Make it bigger. Make it stronger. Paint it a different colour. b) Because cardboard would get damp. Because that’s what glassmakers make things out of. c) Holding pencils. Carrying water. Carrying petrol. Knocking a robber over the head.

4. Analysis. Which answers do you like better? Which do you feel you could write most confidentally about? Which answers did you enjoy writing more. For me, it was probably the answer to ‘c)’.

5. Conclusion. Work out what you’ve written. In this instance I have written down four uses for a vase. Well I can’t do, 7 Uses For a Vase, the poxy website is called 7 Reasons. How am I going to get reasons in there? Play around with it. Make different words the subject of your title. 7 Reasons To Use A Vase. 7 Reasons A Vase Is Useful. 7 Reasons To Own A Vase. And there it is. 7 Reasons To Own A Vase.

6. Expand. You already have four reasons for this. Okay so carrying water and carrying petrol are very similar so maybe that’s one reason. You need four more. What’s the obvious reason? To put flowers in. At this point you’re probably thinking that’s not funny. That’s because it’s not. So twist it. What would happen if you didn’t have a vase and someone bought you flowers? Where would you put them? In the plug hole? Probably not. That’ll be a nuisance when doing the dishes. In a glass? A cocktail umbrella is probably better. That’s four reasons. What else could you use it as? Again look around. It’s sunny. You could use it to magnify the suns rays and make a small fire. That chair, the leg is a bit wobbly. Put the shorter leg in the vase. Look at the vase. The shape of it. It makes your face look a funny shape. A bit like those funny mirrors at fairgrounds. What a great way to keep the children entertained. And for free! I don’t have children? So what? We don’t mind lies. This isn’t the Chilcott enquiry.

7. Shape It. Suddenly you have your 7 reasons. Write them out. Keep them short(ish). Decide an order. The more obvious reasons first, the wild ones later. Above all though, be you and be your writing style. Then send it to us. Done.

And that is all there is to it. You want a go now don’t you? Good. We’ll look forward to reading it. (Oh, and if you want to use us to plug your business/blog/twitter account, well Jon is quite happy to take payment, write your reasons and put your name on it. Just don’t tell Marc).

March 7, 2010
7 Reasons The 1950s Were Better Than The Present

1. Pipes. In the 1950s if you smoked a pipe, you were a stand-up fellow, a good chap, a pillar of society who drove a Morris Cowley and wore a hounds-tooth sports jacket with leather arm-patches. In the present if you smoke a pipe, you are probably embroiled in a downward spiral of addiction and degradation that will ultimately lead to you living in an alley and offering to fellate strangers in exchange for something called crack (according to television).

2. Crooners. In the 1950s there was Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby and Perry Como. Nowadays, we have someone called Michael Buble. He points a lot.

3. Prime Ministers. The Prime Ministers of the 1950s were Atlee, Churchill, Eden and Macmillan. That’s the man voted the greatest Briton of all time and three men with impressive moustaches. Now we have Gordon Brown. He has one eye and a clunking fist.

4. Writers. In the ’50s Kerouac wrote On The Road in a benzedrine-fuelled prose-frenzy on a continuous roll of paper, while Burroughs shot his wife in the head in Mexico and moved to Tangiers, using newspapers to form novels of rare brilliance with his pioneering cut-up technique. Modern writers tap away at their laptops fuelled by tea and ginger biscuits while a fat cat dozes contentedly by their side, frittering away most of their words on blogs and…Hang on, this is a rubbish argument, pretend you haven’t seen it.

5. Ladies Undergarments. In the ’50s ladies wore stockings and suspenders. Stockings and suspenders are brilliant. They are complex enough to be interesting from an engineering viewpoint but simple enough that, with practice, a man can learn to undo them easily. They are also great fun to tweak, resulting in a satisfying slapping noise when released – they’re even more fun to tweak than bra-straps. The modern equivalent to stockings and suspenders are tights. Tights are rubbish. The only excuse for ever choosing tights over stockings and suspenders is if you are a pair of bank-robbing Siamese twins.

6. Ladies Undergarments. In the ’50s bras were plain, under-wired things which gave some indication of the proportions of the protruberances contained within. Nowadays, women wear Wonderbras, which are awful things. You take an apparently spectacularly proportioned woman home, reach for her bra clasp and, having deftly unhooked it with a single-handed flourish, discover you’ve made molehills out of mountains.

7. Television. In the 1950s people on both television channels spoke with received pronunciation and wore evening dress while addressing weighty and sensible topics. These days, there are hundreds of channels full of the working classes. They sing and dance badly, there are women painted orange, men wearing horizontally striped jerseys with their tracksuit bottoms tucked into their socks, ruffians setting upon one another drunkenly, Piers Morgan. It’s rubbish.

Using the comments section is like asking if we can come out to play.

November 5, 2009