You know what they say about writing, right? Edit, edit, edit! So here I am, editing (yet again) my book Page 99, by Joe Bancroft.
I've just reached a part where the protagonist Joe enrols at night school. Remember night school? I certainly do. Each year, just about this time, the Eccles Journal would have a multi-paged pull-out featuring all the new courses that were on offer at the various further education venues around the town. There was a mouth-watering range of subjects and pricing that meant you'd be stupid not to take a course. I remember signing up for art, shorthand and, of course, photography when I was seventeen years old. Great days ..
Incidentally, here's the piece from my book ..
The ‘Photographer’s Eye’. Joe just had it. Could ‘see’ when a photograph was right. He could feel it. Would know when there was no other way to improve on a composition. It thrilled him to bits, which is why he signed up for a night-school course enticingly entitled ‘Tricks of the trade for the experienced amateur’. It spanned twelve Thursday nights in an annexe of the Green Lane adult education centre and Joe initially went just to enquire about the course but was convinced he should enrol after a fortunate chance meeting with Phil, the tutor. The guy’s chilled vibe, scruffy beard and posh, diffident voice were all very nice, but Joe put his name down the second Phil told him that, in no uncertain terms, would they be photographing rainbows or robins or waterfalls. What they did photograph - in only the third week - was a semi-professional model, the likes of whom Joe had never seen in his life; a blonde, crop-haired, perfectly made-up Heaven-sent Goddess called Janine, who sported lip-liner and blusher under a cheeky, tilted fedora and introduced him in no uncertain terms to the concept of ‘out of your bleedin’ league, mate’. Annoyingly, during the shoot, Phil kept rabbiting on about lighting and angle, exposure, pose and shadows, when all Joe could do was drool at this vision in a hat.
