It’s an odd journey this thing I started doing some year ago now. It’s been exciting, engaging, frustrating, and down right infuriating. Let’s face it; writing is a tough thing to do. I don’t think anyone can understand the inner struggle, the conflict between ones conscious and their subconscious better than a writer. But I do go on.
I am still shocked by the start of something new. Like a tidal wave ideas smash into my brain, crushing down on me, flowing from me, it can be a little bewildering. Through it all however I must stay anchored, not get lost in a cacophony of swirling meaningless images and characters, and realize I am doing this for one reason, tons of money…no wait, the story.
It is easy to get lost in your head, easy to sit and think about cool scenes, snappy lines of dialogue, but when you get to FADE IN: (the first line of any script) and you really get into the meat of it, stare the beast in the face as it is, you find you get lost yet again. All of the sudden those scenes you thought were so great are driving the story off a cliff; you have forgotten why you are doing this.
So something has to happen that I dread as a writer. You have to have to have to PLAN. Draw it out, give it bones, what have you. This for me is torture. As I do it, however I keep one thing in my mind, I keep one constant, that the pain of writing without a plan far outweighs the pain of planning in and of itself.
So I have come to a place where all writers find themselves, where you turn to your work, take a step back and say: “This is crap.” It is in that fleeting moment I dust myself off, and go back to square one. Well, not always, sometimes things can be hashed out. Sometimes, you can hammer through a rewrite to the end, and that is what you want to do all the time. You don’t want to admit to yourself that the thing you have created is a steaming pile of shit. Just like a steaming pile of shit, however, the crap is needed. It may be foul now, but like fertilizer it can be used to create something useful. (How’s THAT for poetic!..?) That, dear reader is where I am today.
I have my crap, and now I have to make it useful, and it’s going to be tough; but part of being a writer is pushing yourself where you don’t want to go, outside of that comfort zone and into new territory. So! With my head held high and a large pot of coffee brewing (oh coffee..) I start a new story as yet untitled. Although I would love to call it:
A MAN AND HIS AXE
More on that later.