Cartoon Gravity 47

I haven't been writing very much on Pure Hokum of late, because I've been writing too much everywhere else. Between scripts for the new series of The Lovecraft Investigations, and various tweaks and re-writes on other projects, that blinking cursor has started invading my dreams and the last thing I want to do is face it any more than is absolutely necessary.

And then there's YouTube, which I never thought I would have anything to do with and which I am may now be addicted to. Making these little videos is more difficult than I thought (though probably not as difficult as I make it look), but it's a really fun hobby. The thing that always kept me away from it was the obvious horror of seeing my face and hearing my voice at the same time. I could never imagine how you talk straight to camera (let alone whilst walking down a public street), how you edit and colour grade your own stupid face, how you even cope with examining the infinite detail of your own shortcomings on a screen for hours and hours.

It was during a period of prolonged procrastination that I first came across Peter McKinnon and Casey Neistat (again, years after everyone else had discovered them).

This was the first Peter McKinnon video I saw:

And this is Casey Neistat doing his thing:

That video astonishes me, because it isn't really about anything, but the energy of it, the planning, the sheer number of shots...

I really enjoyed what Casey and Peter were doing, and I especially connected with both of them talking about how difficult and uncomfortable they still find it to vlog in public. That was the revelation; this wasn't just my fear, they had it too. But it was something that could be overcome, even if never fully vanquished.

But the problem was that both of them are North American, and younger than me, and therefore their manner and energy-levels were way more suited to YouTube than mine are. But then I discovered James Popsys, a British photographer (he's very good) who seemed like the much grumpier, more introspective, more self-deprecating version of them:

Now I could relate.

I think what I was seeing was a level of authenticity. These guys were making films about thing they cared about. These weren't opinion pieces, per se, they were enthusiasm pieces. And, while everyone, inevitably, puts their best foot forward when the camera is turned on, there was still a strong sense of a real person coming through.

And it occurred to me that, while the world is flooded with gear reviews and (very good) videos about photography and travel, there was much less out there about what I do.

The world of audio fiction is under serious threat from AI. While you might be confident that a piece of audio broadcast on the BBC was made by real human beings all the way through the process, it is much harder to tell if a piece of independent audio fiction was written or edited or mixed, or even performed, by AI. And even if you think you could tell now, what about in 6 months time, or a year, or five years? And the result of that inability to discern will be the demise of the form, because, even if you're the world's biggest cheerleader for our robot overlords (or just cowering in the face of Roko's Basilisk), you're never really going to connect with a story written by a piece of software that has had no experience of real life or human emotions. If you stop being able to tell which is which, you will likely just abandon the medium altogether.

So it occurred to me that an excuse to dip my toe into YouTube might be to lift the veil on the research, writing and production process of our audio shows. It would give me a theme, something to make videos about, and it would go some way towards proving the human effort that goes into these projects.

So I assembled some gear and started experimenting. Initially, I made a few videos that were just for my daughter, who is away at university. Those got me over the hump of filming myself in public, which really was the biggest obstacle to overcome. I realised pretty fast that mostly people just don't care. You walk past them, talking at a lens, and they maybe think you're a dick, but I don't know those people and they don't know me. And they have forgotten the whole thing a few seconds later, because they have their own lives to live. Once you're past that, and you have been able to say "I am making a YouTube video" without throwing up in your mouth, you can move onto what you're going to make videos about and how you're going to do it.

This learning curve is steep, and I am really only at the base camp at the moment. I have made dozens of hours of television in my career, but I didn't do any of it solo. I know how to use a camera (for stills), I know how to record sound (as in, I've seen it done), I have a basic knowledge of lighting (I know how to turn lights on)... But putting all those things together while also presenting the thing is another ball game entirely. And then you have the problem, at the final stage of the process, of having to stare at your own stupid face and listen to your own stupid voice while you're editing. And then there's colour grading, and then there's sound mixing. And music clearance. And posting to YouTube in a way that might actually get some eyeballs...

What has surprised me so far, is how much I enjoy it. And how much of the process dials in to things I was already enthusiastic about. The first of those is almost certainly gear - I LOVE gear and there is a LOT of it about when you start looking for gadgets to make filming easier. I've curbed the spending as much as possible, but there has still been an accumulation of video equipment that I get to really geek out about. Alongside that, though, is the increased attention you give to the world. As with photography, if you're out and about looking for shots and subjects, you see the world through different eyes. And you are more present; you're doing this thing right now, and you have to make it work right now, so past and future slip away and you find yourself in the moment a lot more often. Which is a very good thing.

And so now, as I start to climb this learning curve, I find myself limited by subject matter. There is only so much I can say (especially when guarding against spoilers) about how we make the Lovecraft Investigations, and certainly not enough to satisfy my hunger to make more films. And this has me turning to Pure Hokum as a larger concept...

The whole point of the Pure Hokum site has really been to share things I'm enthusiastic about with other people. That's all it really is, in a nutshell; I see or read or play with something that I think is awesome and I want to tell people about it in case they think it's awesome too. Along the way, I might plug an audio series here and there, but generally speaking I'm here to enthuse about things to people who, presumably, enjoy being enthused at. And that is what those first YouTubers that I watched do. And so now I'm thinking about broadening the scope of these films, and finding a way to feed in interests that are not directly related to how an audio drama gets made.

The making of a YouTube film, if you're not just sitting at a desk reviewing a new camera lens, is a process of discovery. Nothing goes according to plan, and you are having to pivot and incorporate either mistakes or new ideas, or both, as you go. Even the process of setting it up reveals new threads and new ideas and new ways to juxtapose things. And that is all interesting. It occurs to me that when I watch a Casey Neistat or a Peter McKinnon video now, these are an evolution of videos they made years ago, where they were both trying to figure out what their style and subject matters would be. They have both, as with every filmmaker on YouTube, grown into what they do. And I'm at the very beginning of that process, which is exciting.

At the risk of this skewing too male, let me draw your attention to the Life of Riza, which is one of the most astonishingly well-produced series of YouTube videos I've seen:

So the plan is to keep going, keep posting; see where it leads and what emerges. I'm not bothered about monetisation at this stage, or about subscriber numbers etc. The metrics are not very interesting to me, and I certainly don't want to be guided by them. The idea is to get better at the thing itself, to keep building the skills, to get more comfortable (but never too comfortable) and to figure out how making these films integrates with everything else that I'm doing.

And yes, I am getting back into posting on the Pure Hokum site; that is something I need to schedule more. The videos are supposed to be an as-well-as, not an instead-of.

For those keeping track, the new series of the Lovecraft Investigations is NEARLY written (I'm on Episode 9 of 10) and the movie projects I'm trying to put together are STILL in progress. There is a potential TV show on the horizon, which I can't talk about yet. And there are some other really interesting ideas simmering on the backburner. The industry in Hollywood seems to be slowly getting back on its feet after all the recent mergers and consolidation, so I think the clouds there may finally be parting to let some light through.

And we're doing a Lovecraft Investigations live show, in March 2027 (details to follow when it's all nailed down), which might turn into "a thing" if it goes well and everyone enjoys the process.

For now, I guess I'm back to that blinking cursor...

Fuck it. Send.