Firstly, I never want to see The Beacon ever again. An eight year-old could have written a better script. Sadly though I must sit through it again tomorrow, when there’ll probably be no-one there except the ten winners of the Chicago Rock competition. Today’s turn-out was pretty good, and only three old ladies walked out, presumably because of the f**k-laden prose that passes for dialogue in the movie.

A few people offered their services for Soul Searcher, but no-one offered any money. Indeed, it seems that none of the 12 potential funders that were sent comp tickets even bothered to come. You see, this is why I used my own money to make The Beacon. Myself is extremely generous when it comes to giving money to me. Extravagant even, one might say.

Anyway, I’m off camping in Cornwall for a week the day after tomorrow – but don’t think I’m not taking my Soul Searcher file with me. Whilst I’m away, Beacon veteran Geraint Pounder will work on some concept sketches, and I’m going to do some storyboards, even if it’s still just key moments at this stage, rather than entire scenes.

Also this afternoon James and I wreaked havoc on the airwaves, diffusing our double act onto BBC Hereford & Worcester as we talked about Soul Searcher. Sadly they did not broadcast our impromptu song. All together now… “SOUL SEARCHER / HE’S SUCH A HAIRY LURCHER / HE’S GOT A SCYTHE BUT HE WON’T HURT YA…”