Although first - don't feel sorry for me about the rejected script thing, it happens all the time (although I appreciate the sentiment, obviously). As long as you have loads of projects on the go at any one time, it's surprisingly easy to just go 'tch' at having a script turned down, then go on to the next thing, especially when it's something you wrote a fair amount of time ago. And it's quite sketchy in nature, so I can always strip it for parts...
Thanks for anonymous for this Guardian article and Patch for this one in the New Statesman. Patch also writes about whether 'advertorial' style blog posts could turn out to be something of a mixed blessing for the companies concerned here. And I should point out that I'm easily tall and pretty enough for the both of us, so no worries there.
Some great comments in the original ads-in-blogs-post, so thanks for that, and keep them coming.
Something I'd completely forgotten about, talking about selling out your principles and waking up one day wondering where your soul used to be, is that I was approached sometime after the first series of Green Wing by an advertising company who wanted to do some kind of big lager-drinking summer promotion that would appear in one of those men's magazines with a title like Balls or Plinth or Dur or Look Tits. The proposal was to come up with some huge blokey pull-out guide to summer, and for some reason they thought I was the person to do this (I know). Part of the deal was they wanted an interview, and a photo.
I had a meeting with my agent, and we decided that the whole idea was naff and unpleasant and ghastly, and consequently we should as for something in the region of ten grand. I asked that in the photo I should be holding a magic sword, with at least two scantily-clad women lying at my feet gazing adoringly up at me, but I don't know if that made it into Agent Ginny's final proposal. Sometimes she forgot stuff, it was weird.
Anyway, we waited to hear, and nothing happened, and in the end it turned out that they thought I was one of the cast (who, I don't know) and they didn't even know writers were involved in the show anyway, what with it being completely improvised and that, and then it turned out the lager company went with another idea anyway. Honestly, it's not good for your ego, this business.
But at least I found the amount for which I was willing to totally discard the olive linen shirt of principle and don the gaudily tie-dyed t-shirt of venality, so that was good.