It’s funny where inspiration comes from. The most cliché answer to “Where does inspiration come from?” is “Everywhere”. For the most part that is true though. My inspiration for the stories I create have come from multiple different sources.
It was during the pandemic that I started watching the politicians during the daily briefings and in interviews that gave me the inspirations to create Blue Collar PM.
It was during the politicians’ expenses scandal and multiple tax evasion scandals, along with the demise of British Home Stores that gave inspiration to Robin.
And it was through a very depression riddle era of my life that I came up with My Year Off.
But music is the one key to help me, not only create whole stories, but the finer details in the scenes. For One Epic Year, it was a whole cavalcade of music spanning different genres. More of which be found here.
But what started it off was not only music, but what I would consider, a terrible holiday.
Train of Thought
Back in 2017, I and my then girlfriend decided to go away for a few days around Halloween, to a cabin by the lake in Scotland. We drove up from London, it took nearly the whole day. We left in the dark and arrived in darkness. We had to make multiple stops along the way because she decided to bring her dog along for the trip also, who need more bathroom breaks than old man trying to sleep at night.
I did most of the driving while they slept. Seeing as they were asleep, I decided to play music that I would enjoy, but not necessarily them. A few days prior, we had been to see Kingsman – The Golden Circle at the cinema and I was enraptured by the soundtrack, so I listened to it as I drove.
I love soundtracks, probably my favourite genre of music. I feel like it can provoke more emotion from someone that any other song. They can inspire, they can comfort, they can anger, they can calm.
So, as I followed the road snaking through the Scottish hills, listening to the soundtrack to Kingsman – The Golden Circle, I was enjoying the countryside. Rolling green hills, interrupted occasionally by low clouds, sometimes there would be a peak of a distant mountain sneaking into view. But it was one sight that really caught me. An old steam train carving its way through the hills. Plumes of smoke billowing out from the front. It must’ve been ten miles away at least. But it just looked majestic.
At that moment, a particular song came on from the soundtrack which was called “Eggsy is Back”. It starts off with a majestic feel. Violins starting off with version of “Country Roads” that slowly bleed into the traditional Kingsman theme. And I got a vision of a man in a tuxedo standing on that train at the front, in the doorway, in all his glory. As the camera panned back, we could see the train was packed with zombies. It was Halloween after all. I kept replaying that scene in head repeatedly.
When we got to the village where the cabin was, it was pitch black, and I had to drive along a very thin road. On one side was eerie dark woods, on the other was a four-foot drop and then the lake. Neither had any kind of barrier, in case someone from out of town didn’t know the road very well. Once there, it was very cold, very grey, very wet, very miserable, very isolating. Which you’d think is the reason why we went. But ultimately, I felt isolated from her.
The highlight of the holiday was when I took to the dog out into the garden to go to the bathroom. The garden was a nice size that back right on to the lake itself. It even had a little jetty for a small boat jutting out into the water. So, I started playing with the dog, running around the garden with it. It started to run on the jetty, which was the most stable looking structure in the world. It was having fun running back and forth. Until… It flew right off the end and into the freezing cold water.
I laughed so hard. I was on my knees laughing while this little shit of a mummy’s boy dog panic paddled around. I eventually, very gingerly, walked up the jetty, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him out of the water and we went inside to warm up and dry off.
It’s worth pointing out that I love dogs. Prefer them to most humans. But this particular dog was dick.
My ex was washing up at the time. When we walked in, she didn’t even look up from the sink when she asked, “He fell in the water, didn’t he?” and I burst out laughing again.
It was both before and after that, that we spent of the trip in silence. It was in that silence when I would fall into the dream movie world that I had begun to create in the car. Looking out at the lake from the cabin, the eery silence that befell the outside world over the water. The woods on the other side of the road. The quiet little village a mile or so down the road.
And in those few days of silence, I thought of the following scene:
Tuxedo Man
A train carves its way through the Scottish Highlands. Smoke forced from the chimney at the front of the train as it chugs along the tracks. Completely unassuming as it moves along it’s journey. You could almost hear the bagpipes.
Upon that train is a man, in an almost empty carriage, he is accompanied by only a safe. Dressed in a tuxedo he frantically trying to pick the lock to the safe. Slowly rotating the tumbler on the door until he hears the click he needs. Tick, tick, tick, CLICK! He’s in!
Inside the safe is a simple golden ring. Like an engagement ring, a simple golden band. He grabs its, pockets it and heads backward to the door to back through the train.
He moves swiftly through each carriage of the train, not another soul insight. Until he gets to THE carriage.
He opens the door and stands there proudly. Fully showing his well-dressed demeanour. Tuxedo, dark slicked hair, bit of stubble. Like a poor man’s Bond. He looks over the carriage and he see’s what he was desperate not to see. A hoard of zombies.
His shoulders drop, his head rolls back, “Oh fucking zombies. Why’d it have to be fucking zombies?!” he asks himself.
The zombies snap a look back at him, and all start to rush over to attack him. Clambering over the seats and each other down the aisle to get him. The tuxedoed man springs into action. He swiftly kicks ones down the aisle, forcing a few of them back while others fight over the seats to have at the tuxedoed man.
He brutally kicks one of the arms of the seat nearest to him, dislodging it from the backrest. He grabs it and starts using it in a billy-club fashion swatting away the zombies’ advances and attempts to bite him. Moving his way through the carriage, kicking and swatting away his undead foes.
Outside the train, a car speeds over the hills to run alongside the train. An open top Land Rover. Inside, and hanging on for dear life, three men, all roughly the same age as the tuxedoed man. “Fucking steady on!” one man in the back calls out. “I’m trying to catch up to him” says the man driving. The man in the front passenger seat holds his finger to his ear, as if to engage an earpiece, “Have you got it?” he asks. Over the earpiece the tuxedoed man replies “Yes! But there’s fucking zombies everywhere”.
“Shit!” the driving man shouts as he speeds up the car. “Where are you?” asks the passenger seated man. “The roof. The roof. The roof” calls back the tuxedoed man over the earpiece. The three look to one another panicked. The car veers away from the train slightly so they can get a better look at the roof of the train.
Sure enough, there he is. This time he’s fighting vampires. He’s broken the armrest in two and using the two halves as a stake, to drive through the hearts of the vampires. The three in the car are shock at what they’re seeing. The car moves back closer to the train. “Come on!” yells the man in the back of the car.
The tuxedoed man pushes one of the vampires back to clear a path down the roof of the train and he runs down. Taking giant leaps, moves at an angle to the running train right towards the edge of the train before…
He leaps!
Flying through the air towards the car. Arms and legs spread to make himself bigger. Hoping it would make it easier to either land in the car, grab the car, or be grabbed by someone in the car. But all the others can do is watch in disbelief.
Because as he flies, werewolves come crashing through the windows of the train.
He lands in the back seat of the car, grabbing hold of the exposed rollbar. The man in the back grabs him quickly so he doesn’t bounce back out and into the pack of werewolves inching themselves closer to our four heroes.
“Go, go, go!” shouts the front passenger and the car speeds up and away from the train and the ever-gaining werewolves. Speeding over the hills to get away. Inside there are now four men holding on for dear life as the terrain gets more and more unroadworthy. Bouncing around, fearing they could be launched from the car at any moment.
They’re approaching a lake, hidden in between the hills and woods. The two men in front focused on what’s ahead of them. The two in the back focused on what’s chasing them.
As they rapidly progress to wards the lake the driver shouts “Get ready!” they jump up in their seats. Feet on the seats, holding on to the edges of the car. Poised, ready to jump.
There’s a big concrete barrier to the lake, to stop cars from falling into it. They head straight towards it. Fear and anticipation filling their faces.
BANG!
They hit it head on. Flipping the car over on its nose. The four men jump and are flung into the air towards the lake. Screaming as they travel through air. Metres ahead of them, their intended landing bay, is a small boat with a motor on the back.
They land in the boat. As one of the men scramble to get to the motor and yank the pull cord, the others look back at the shore.
The car has flipped over and burst its petrol tank. The werewolves crowding around it. Some of the werewolves looking in the wreckage for the men. Others looking at the boat and paced back and forth along the shoreline. They can’t go in the water it seems.
BOOM!
The car explodes, taking a vast majority of the werewolves out.
Out of breath, panting and relived the men watch on as they make their way along the water, away from the chaos.
As they get to the middle of the lake, the tension and hesitance returns to their faces. They know what’s out there.
They each look down into the water and there it is. A giant fiery portal under the water. Fire underwater. An eerie tension takes over them as they look over this paranormal, otherworldly entity mere metres below them in the water.
They look to one another, knowing full well what they have to do.
Not long after we returned home, we broke up. Which is not surprising. But the adventures of these four men didn’t stop at the lake.
The Next Adventure
A few days later, it’s Guy Fawkes Night, and I go out to see a nearby fireworks display in Hackney. It’s monster themed, with no actual bonfire, which is part of the tradition. It got me thinking about how the message of bonfire night has been missed.
Then I started to think about a new movie. A modern spy thriller, where the main antagonist attempts to blown up the Houses of Parliament. We’ve had spy thriller where the villain wants to take over the world, control oil or water supplies, make as much money as possible or even just control governments. But not bring about change or overthrow the government or monarchy like Guy Fawkes tried to do. So, let’s create one.
On the walk home that night, I was listening to the Skyfall soundtrack for inspiration, piecing together parts of scenes involving the House of Parliament.
For some reason, the four men from the Halloween movie kept coming into my head. Like, they were the ones, four everyday men, to thwart this domestic terrorist plot. Then it began to build from there.
What if one of them turned?
What if one was a secret spy?
What if one was a bit goofy and just happy to be there?
What if these four men found themselves in a different radical adventure on every bank holiday in the UK?
And Thus…
That Jamie Bloke Author of the genre bending ONE EPIC YEAR 
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