Urania.

Alright, so I've been very irregular with these posts. It's not because I haven't been writing, but because I haven't been finding the blogs to be particularly useful. However, I should probably mark some of these events, so that if I choose to look back at the prior year or something, I can see the huge leaps of progress I've made so far.

I turned in my second draft of "The War Within" to the producer, and he loved it. He had some tweaks here and there, and that's totally valid. I managed to take his idea of a prior event and use it to set the tone for the piece, and sort of guide the characters' actions, which I was proud of. I feel like taking other peoples' ideas and using them to enhance the script is the kind of skill that would open some doors for me, should I ever reach Hollywood. Now I'm just awaiting more notes, and it'll likely be a bit of a wait, but it's all good. I've got tons to keep me busy.

I was working on a pair of scripts that I thought would be good. I was busting my ass with the planning, but I didn't think they were coming together to the degree that my best ones did. As I understand it, there are two kinds of writings. Inspiration-based and work-based.

I've had it in the past where they just happen all at once and I sit there taking notes while the ideas just kind of pour into my brain. And it's like, if I paused, I'd lose the whole thing. Like it was literally the whisperings of a muse, and I had to get it all down now. These are the inspiration-based scripts.

I've also had it where I have to carefully plot and pan every detail, and come up with a piece of brilliance, by virtue of effort, planning, and rewriting. That seems like it's 90% of my scripts (and I'm thrilled to have enough that this is a realistic number). These are work-based. The two scripts I was writing were work-based, and they were coming together with extreme difficulty. I did what I usually do to try and free up the ideas. I took a walk, then I took a drive.

On the drive, I saw, of all things, a dead pig. And it triggered a flash of inspiration. There have been nine scripts between this one and my last sci-fi movie. But as I sat there, just humoring the idea and jotting down bits and pieces to potentially branch out after I get noticed, it all came togehter, and I had to look at other epics, just to see if this was a plausible idea. And it is. I am writing a sci-fi movie. I would be terrified if the pieces didn't just hook together as I want, when I want them to. Right now, I'm plotting the thing, and it's pacing is lovely. I'm thrilled with what it's going to be if I have the skill to put it together (and I do).

Also, I sent my Greek script off to a reader for notes, and the notes were great. No complaints. And, though that script needs a lot of development yet, one of the take-homes was that a reader who's been doing this for fifteen years told me that I write at a professional level, even if my script isn't there. God, that was a healthy jolt. I didn't just have some anonymous stranger tell me I was a "6." I got a compliment that felt genuine from someone who knows what they're talking about.
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Beyond this, I guess I should try and drop some personal stuff, so I don't just feel like this is me talking about how I make pages of stuff people won't read. I've still been talking with Emma, but I'm pretty sure we're not compatible. I have a very dark sense of humor, and I outright don't recognize when she's trying to be funny. To me, her jokes are just more things she says that I don't understand. She's a good person. She's just not MY good person. And I don't know how I can break it to her that this just isn't going to happen. I'm not the kind to settle down and watch Disney movies my whole life, because any lame-ass horror movie is too scary. I can't. That's not me. I need the outlet, or I'll lose my damn mind.

Also, it appears that the people who left me here and moved to Colorado are having a bad go of it. I've heard that the couple is separated for the time being, and it seems she's just done. I don't blame her. It's always something. He isn't getting it. He wants things to go a certain way, and is turning this into a power struggle, where she has to pick between him and her family. I know he doesn't like her family, but it's fucked up to give an ultimatum like that, and no one's happy when there's an ultimatum, because no one ever sides with the person who gives the damn thing. I don't know much for specifics, but he's going to lose her at this rate, and I'll empathize, but not sympathize. Because he has issues and knows it, but won't fix them, because reasons. I don't know. He's the kind who would sit down when he's in a patch of shit, rather than plug onward. And I'd help him fight his battles, but I'm not going to win them for him, and in the past, that's how it's been. When I help, he stops. The other couple -the one they abandoned me to save- isn't doing well either. He just sits around smoking pot, napping, and playing video games, and she does everything for him.

I swear, pot's like Mirkwood. It looks nice on the outside, and there's some good that can come of it, but if you let it lure you off the path, you might never find your way out. Oh, and I'm clean. Still. Right now, I cant really understand what about sobriety stoned me disliked so much. I do the same shit, but I also do the shit I wanted to get done that I couldn't because I was always playing video games or napping. Perhaps when I'm older, I'll get into it. And maybe once or twice a year. But not now. Not anymore.

I hate my job, but they cut my hours, so there's less to hate. I hate that my coworkers talk about each other behind their backs, and establish some kind of ghost-hierarchy, and treat each other differently based on this. I hate how they treat each other like shit, despite being on the same team, and this job not mattering that much in the long run. I mean, if this place is even going to BE a place ten years from now, who among us will still be there? I hate how they steal the good hours and I end up stuck with the Monday mornings, so I get to deal with a bunch of whiny tantrums each week. I hate how the people who don't work with the clients treat those that do like they're not as good as them. I hate how some of them take it on themselves to try and get other people fired. There's an HR person AND supervisors for that. And I hate how they're always so baffled that no one wants to work there, when they get paid maybe 50 cents an hour more than a McDonald's employee. I hate how the self-important people there tend to have second jobs, because they make such a pittance. Actually, no, I love that. I love being treated like I'm a piece of shit by someone six days a week, then having them make me a sandwich at Subway on the seventh day, because they're some petty workplace tyrant. That feels like karma playing a long-game.

Blah. I need this script to keep me sane. I wonder what kind of mental problems I'd have right now if I weren't constantly putting my brain to use, and investing so many present hours into ensuring so many bright future hours. Life without hope is misery, and my life in Iowa is grim as hell. I found inspiration in a dead pig, for fuck's sake.

Been a while.

I hadn't realized how much time it had been since I last wrote. And things have changed so much. So, here's a major update.

Still working on the soldier script, but we have a title and he got those alterations to me. They're all totally practical, and I'll get on it soon. We're just trying to make sure it's a deliberate firm step.

I'm working on a TV show idea on my own. I had to learn tv structure, which is wonky, but totally doable. And actually easy as pie once you get it all worked out. So, this could very well be something someone wants to read. If nothing else, it makes my portfolio look good (better). Because I've been told that the other scripts in there are all strong samples. So, this is another strong sample. And it's fun as hell to write. I think it has potential, but it needs more time on the cooker.

I'm working on planning out another one with a wildly unlikable protagonist. I think it's a good exercise, if nothing else. It should make me a better writer, and who knows? It may sell.

Um, Bran died. That was kind of a world-shaking event for me. He was drunk and rode his motorcycle and crashed in water. If any of those factors had been altered, he likely would still be with us. So, I traveled to Wyoming for the sendoff. And, this was devastating. It hit in spikes, and I imagine it'll do so for years to come. So I've resolved to be other people's Bran. I want to teach them to be better. To be strong. To be proud of who they are. And to fight like crazy shits. I lost the guy who taught me how to be a man, and what specifically it meant. So we had a Viking sendoff. We picked things that we wanted him to have, and since he either wouldn't accept them, or would give them to people who needed them, we FINALLY got to give him gifts he had to take. We burned so much stuff that night. And it was worth it, because he was a great man. "The light that burns half as bright, burns half as long." It was a cathartic experience.

Also, I got to see Kenny at the funeral and sendoff. He was my wonder twin while I lived in Casper. We did all kinds of shit together, back in the day. We were like Bran's minions back then. Getting drunk and getting into all kinds of shenanigans. And I got to see Oni and Kat, which was great, as it's been a few years. And Oni burned the "great coat of Oni," which was the bright red fighting tunic he's had since he started. That was huge for us, and a biological advantage for Bran, if he did get to Valhalla. That coat smelled like rank armpit for probably a decade. LOL

Emma is still interested in me, and we talked about it. It's mutual, and we'd like to see where it goes. She's really supportive and generally really awesome. A bit young, but she'll mature.

Cloud contacted me and asked me to live with her. I agreed, even though I hate Aurora. This should be different. I'll have access to people, which will be nice. And I thought I had a job in the bag, and they shot me down. And I panicked and threw resumes all over, and within minutes, I had another one offer me a job. So, lucky save. That's happening after Thanksgiving. My time in Iowa is on a fuse. About damn time.

Best damn event.

I just got back from my 12 hour drive from Battlemoor, which involuntarily began at 4 AM, so bear with me if it sounds like the rantings of a madman. I've been redlining on sleep for the last week. Also, this one is between me and you, DHS readers. Please don't spread it to the head of the CIA, as it's kind of personal.

I had three nights of work just before I left, so I had plenty of hours. Then I left and saw that my supervisors wanted me to do some bullshit petty corrections for them. Instead, I said fuck it and turned off the phone. I'd worked off the clock (which is illegal) for a day and a half between shifts. I needed to drink and fight to undo the damage that stress was doing to me. The drive was mellow, if long, and I ended up setting up my little pup tent alone in the dark. It was a mess, though it did eventually go together. Somehow I managed to get the tent poles wrong and the tent derped terribly, but it was temporary anyway. First night down.

The next morning I woke up and the rest of the barony was setting up around me, which was hilarious I had randomly chosen the exact site they were going to use, and I was camping with them. I went around and said hi to a bunch of folks. A couple of folks were mad at me, and let that be known, but there were far more people who were genuinely pleased to see me. And someone else being a dick to me doesn't necessarily reflect badly on me. Either way, I was friendly toward them regardless, as that DOES reflect me. And I hung out with Bran, getting munchies, because I thought I wasn't on the meal plan. And then I was and had a ton of extra food. Not the worst situation I'd been in. Also, Emma showed up and we were introduced by virtue of proximity. She was pretty awesome. Like, easily one of my top ten favorite people, and I've known her less than a week. Second night down.

The next morning I woke up and decided that, since the barony let me stay with them, despite having no obligation to, I had to fight on their behalf. And I armored up for melees. They only had a handful of fighters, and I think I might have been the only shield. Green team got steamrolled because no one was in charge. It was, for lack of a better word, pathetic. They were asking if we were ready, and our guys were still standing around bullshitting. We earned our asskicking. I got tackled, stomped, slammed, thrown, and actually pulled off a couple cool moves. But overall, it was a shitshow. Emma was there to fix my busted armor, tend to my many big-ass bruises, and we chatted over water and snacks. She encouraged me to fight in the consort tourney the following day (despite me lacking a consort), and I encouraged her to fight in the six foot spear tourney. I talked with Bran, and he encouraged me to ask her to be my consort, and I did. She seemed pleased. The party was fun, and I remember it, so it couldn't have been that bad. Third night down.

The woke up in pain. The melees had used all of my muscles way more than they were used to, and at such a high altitude. This also accompanied a massive beatdown, so I only did the tourney, which is weird, because I generally hate tourneys. Anyway, I fought, and Emma was there to help with straps and hydrating and glittery lip gloss, because my lips were chapped as hell. I beat ass at the tourney, considering my prior fighter practice had been about a year and a half ago. I first fought this little lady, who had the same skill level as myself. I basically cracked her defense open like a clam and shanked her in the face a couple times. She was pissed and wouldn't talk to me afterwards or when I saw her. Honestly, she needed to come for me when I was tired, which was often. Then I took on a glaive fighter, and I'm shocked I beat him, as he was really good. And then another glaive fighter, who beat me 2-1, so not too bad. I had one more loss until I was kicked out entirely, and I ended up fighting a knight, who had a gopro and beat my ass like it was his job. Afterwards, Emma tended some more wounds. At this point, she was growing on me like fungus on a sloth. Which was strange, because only a few days earlier, she was a stranger. And her soon-to-be knight was injured, so she tended to his wounds. She's just like that. I went to bed stupid early. Fourth night down.

The next night, I had no idea what was going on with her, as I was pretty enamored, but hadn't seen her that night, and I wondered if perhaps she reconsidered. It happens more often than you'd think. Either way, I figured I'd be mature about it. So I got ready for the spear tourney, because I had a goal. I suck with spears, but wanted to get good at grabbing other peoples' weapon hafts. We talked and I figured out that things hadn't changed, which was fine. And I DID grab weapon hafts left, right, and center. I died in every fight, and there were a few disappointing moments, but I had a weapon haft at least once each bout. I now have the confidence to do that more often. And afterwards, I did some slow work with Emma on dealing with shields, as she's apparently not too used to fighting them. She also got squired, which is a significant moment. But she's at about that point, and her knight is a great guy, so I was happy for her. When it was done, I had to fix my tent, and a wonderful gent named Andre held it down in a downpour so I could foolishly try and fix it. It did kind of work. Then Emma wanted me to hang out with her, and we hung out for the rest of the day.

Later that night, she packed down (even our cars were unwittingly hanging out in the parking lot). So we walked around the camps, hanging out with people a bit, but mostly enjoying each others company. And then we had a long talk, just us. I know it sounds stupid, because it's so early, but I really really like this girl. And it became apparent that she likes me back. Our conversation meandered all over and all-but got to the point where I asked her out. I didn't, but only because I didn't want the first month or so to be long distance. I want to do it in person. But, I think I was right. I had a talk with a friend, who kind of bragged about how he was sure he could hook up with her at the event, and after the first night, I told him that she was the kind you bring home, not to your tent. And through our conversations, it seemed that we have a lot of the same values and (most) opinions and history and desires (for relationships, anyway), though our personalities are totally different. And she grew up in the same podunk town my aunt and uncle live in in Colorado. Small world.

She amazes me. I feel like she would inspire me to want to carry my weight in a power couple. And that she would be able to do so on her own, naturally. And she expressed interest back. I want this. I purposely put it in such a situation that I have to get out there before making it happen. I'm going to defeat my own nature by tricking me into doing what I want me to do. Sounds trippy, but I know how I work, and what'll happen. I'm hacking my own mind. Also, she's the polar opposite of Lyndsie, and if I made it work with her (for a time) then I'm certain this one that comes so naturally would actually be a really good relationship. Like, one that could grow strong.

Anyway, my vision is clouding, and words are tumbling out. So, night all.

Rolling with the punches.

I just finished the rough draft of my indie film about a soldier. It's got potential, provided I can hit that potential. I like the characters. They're solid, individual, and fun to write. I like the twists and turns in the story, despite it being relatively simple. It's not an action-packed story, but I'm not working on an action-packed budget, so there. I've been thinking of how we're going to do the scenes we can on the budget we don't really have, and I've got ideas. And I haven't even spoken with the director/main producer about this. Either way, it sounds like we're making a god damn movie. He's all in, I'm all in enough to spend hours a day on this thing. It's happening. Now I'm just pouring time into editing, to ensure I can be finished by the end of September. I at LEAST want to be done with the flashbacks, so we have something to film in the summer. I can probably take my time a bit with the rest, as we're going to have a bit of real-world time lapse there.

And I've still got my Attila the Hun project on the back burner. I genuinely think the problem is twofold. First, I put so much effort into appeasing the readers that it kind of lost its sense of self. It lost a vital chunk of what it was because I was so eager to do what I could to ensure that someone saw it. Second, after the catastrophe that is Ben Hur, they won't make this movie with a gun to their heads. So I'll do one more pass, just to make it what I want it to be, then it goes quietly into my portfolio. And I go to more modern movies. Movies that cost less to make and tend to gross higher. *INFINITE SIGH* It really sucks to have to blame this on someone I've never even seen, but the fact is, Hollywood will avoid this movie like it's got face-chlamydia, simply because a similar movie did abysmally. But, that's the way their system works, and I've got to get used to it, because I cannot expect them to change everything to accommodate me. That's lead-paint-chips level dumb.

Also, I have yet to speak with Nate and Pam since they booted me from our joint-venture. I think the big reason is that Nate wanted a stoner roommate, and I refuse. I simply have too much to do to sit there and do nothing for a day, much less months or years. And the last time we hung out, we smoked a bit (so I could work out the issues in The Hun) and I thought I caught some bitchy subtext from him, basically telling me that I'm a college dropout who lives with his mother, so I should become a stoner. He's not wrong on the first two points. But just because I'm down, doesn't mean I'm out. I've spent the last three years learning a skill that pays well, obsessing over writing scripts. I've written ten of the suckers. It's not like I've been sitting around playing video games and getting fat. My figuring is that video games are fun, but ultimately useless. Somewhere out there is the best damn Goldeneye player that ever lived. And they have a skill that's been useless for twenty years. Why would I want that? Why be good at something that has no real world value? That person probably poured thousands of hours into that, and got exactly zero in return for it. With that in mind, why bother?

Also, on a related note, I'll probably be moving to Cheyenne, like I genuinely want to. And since I have a more flexible time table for this, I figure I can do it at my own pace. I'll work on getting my CNA worked out first, I'll save some cash, then I'll keep an eye open for pet friendly places within my price range. I know a guy in Cheyenne who works at a career placement center, so it'd be pretty easy. And my friends from Cheyenne told me that they'd be glad to have me. To be honest, I like Cheyenne infinitely more than Colorado. Colorado is becoming a hole, and Cheyenne is close enough to Fort Collins that I can still see my friends in the south, but not a crazy drive from Casper either, so I can see my friends in the north too. So, that's a plan. And it'll probably happen exactly like that too, because I don't change my fucking plan every week. It's hard to hit a moving target. Bah!

If nothing else, I figure this is proof that my last couple years have been good to me. Aurora was a shitheap. My whole life was crappy. Little money, little food, shitty apartment. It WAS a crucible, and it DID break me down to my core bits. I melted entirely, dumped the slag, and got pounded into whatever shape the powers that be wanted. And this time at home has been a quench. It was a nice period of mellow recuperation. This right here though is the tempering, I think. I'm working more hours than ever before, I'm dealt with people who consistently try (consciously or otherwise) to break me, and I'm holding my edge admirably. I had a bad night when that guy told me he hated my script, but nothing before or after that, and one bad day in a year is pretty good. There have been some bumps, some bruises, but nothing I can't handle.

Just Another Update

Plugging away on this pilot story. I figure I'll have a ton of hours next week to continue on this thing. But I'm doing awesome, juggling all these projects. I do one scene revision on The Hun when I wake up, because it's not on the front burner anymore, and I'm planning my World War 2 story. The time I've spent working it out has been good to me, and this is seeming really fucking entertaining just out the gate. And people love World War 2. This is a story that hasn't been done yet too, which means it should be pretty damn fun. And it'll probably be panned too, but fuck it. I do this for me. I've seen some sick movies in my head that other people likely won't get to see, and that's pretty cool.

And I've been keeping up with my exercise. I've been ramping it up, and I'll probably add onto my left arm weight duration and jump up to the 10 pound weight with my right hand. Sure, I won't be huge, but I don't need to be. Being a bodybuilder doesn't benefit you in fighting. It's just more mass to work around. There's a reason MMA fighters are toned little guys. They have enough muscle to get the job done and retain their dexterity. Ever watch the original Conan the Barbarian? He can barely wield that damn sword, his upper body is so big. And it doesn't take that much strength to ruin someone with a sword. You need the speed to deliver it where it needs to go, the accuracy to hit the target, and a modicum of strength. My left side is bulking plenty though. I should be able to wield that big-ass shield all day. I'm stoked. I love that shield. I want to be buried with that shield.

I think I owe quite a bit of this explosion in activity to me quitting smoking. It had its uses, but ultimately it slowed me down. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy it, but I enjoy being productive more. I figure it's like Rip Van Winkle's moonshine. It puts your brain to sleep, and it dreams, and dreaming is amazing, but at some point, you have to wake up and get going.

So, that's my update slash thought for the day. Also, who keeps reading this? It can't possibly be that interesting. It must be the government. In which case, my name isn't Mike, but Rusty Shackleford.

Transition.

I went through the transition this weekend, and it was smooth as a baby's buns. Or butter. Or buttered baby buns. In any case, it's a positive step. I'm effectively being paid to sleep, which is pretty damn good. And I also write dialogue well at night, It's a thing. I don't get it. It's the way I am.

So, I worked my first shift last night, and I didn't anticipate sleeping, but the recliner there is epic, and I slept most of the night. One of the guys woke me up at 6 because he'd had a blowout, and I got to mop diarrhea off the floor, but at least it was linoleum. And that's literally the worst thought I had about it, so I think this may be a good fit. And then I made breakfast in the morning. It was fun, to be honest. A good temporary fit, but still temporary.

Also, I've begun my workout in good order. I've already seen results, so it seems like a good idea. My plan is to encourage my left upper body to become slow-twitch muscle, as my shield is a beast and needs to be hefted for long periods at a time. Then I'll encourage my right side to become fast-twitch muscle, as a sword or ax should be fast more than anything else, and if I still have some semblance of accuracy, I can probably do some damage. Also, I've got this sweet high-altitude training mask, so I'll get to work on the stair-elliptical thing with it. Hopefully by the end of the month, I'm a tank. I did well at Dragon's, but I got tired, and the fighting wasn't a long time. I plan to bust ass at Battlemoor. I've already seen results. My left shoulder is getting big, and my forearms are getting toned, which is a good sign. Now I just need to stop drinking until the end of the month, and keep up the cardio.

Exercising sucks buttholes. Except that I saw one of my folks' friends who was divorced a while back, and she looked FINE. Except that she's like, thirty years older than me. But still, she looked good enough for porn. Like, good porn.

Also, I'm working on my scripts. I realized that I did the same thing about this shitty review as I always do. I get mad, I get drunk, and I read it again a couple days later, then pick up exactly what they wanted me to get. My character arcs ARE confusing. So I'm planning some minor overhaul stuff. I guess I'm NOT done with The Hun. It'll be alright though. I know exactly which scenes need to be altered, but I'm prioritizing my other script. Which is going well. I made sure to work out the character arcs, just to be safe. And the dialogue is solid. I mean, this is rough draft shit, and each character already has their own voice. But who knows if the final product will be any good. One can hope! And I'm working out another spec script concept, getting it primped and ready to write. And I have another that I'm mucking around with right now. It's nowhere near being written, but it's interesting... Not that interesting is good at all. It'll either be super popular or totally panned.

I'm also working out another indie script option. It should end up a low-budget character-oriented webseries. And I think it has all kinds of potential, but I have yet to really dig into the meat of it. So, who knows? It'll likely end up on the heap of abandoned script ideas, but at least I HAVE a heap of abandoned ideas. I assume there are people who just roll headlong with each idea they get. W/E

The results are in...

They fucking hated it. Sixes across the board. It was like the Screencraft reader didn't hardly read the thing. Like they went into it with a bad attitude, because they just picked apart the odd misspelled word and went on about how they hated that it wasn't "period" dialogue, because rather than have everyone some stodgy Elizabethan character, I had them talk like real people. Like people of different social classes and from different countries. And my characters got a six, despite there being not one single complaint against any one of them.

So I'm fucking drinking tonight. I essentially paid a hundred bucks to have some asshole trash my script. I made changes last time, but not this time. I fixed the spelling errors, but multiple other readers gave me kudos for my dialogue, calling it "not derivative." I just liked that they talked and acted like people who do more than sit around in a ruined frieze, drinking and wearing togas. And that's my biggest issue with readers. They go WAY out of their way to give a no. There is no consistency. What one reader hates, another loves, and vice versa. There is no definitive way in, you just have to find someone who really loves your work, but you don't get to pick or have any say in matters. I mean, I KNOW this is a good script. Just a bad reader. I'm absolutely floored that they spent the better part of the page of notes telling me my spelling errors. Fucking useless.

This is the kind of reader who would have shot down Jurassic World, which grossed $1.52 billion. These people regularly tell me my style is like 300 or Troy (which both grossed half a billon) and then shoot my shit down. And then Hollywood is all "why do all our movies suck," and then they put out 100,000 superhero movies that are all effectively the same bullshit, with a different costume. It's because they have the LEAST efficient means of coming up with good script concepts. BAH! I'm just railing against the system.

Maybe I should take Connie up on her offer. Have the script sent to her cousin who works in Hollywood. I think I will. And I'll bust my ass on this script with Nid. If we can prove that we can make a good script without a budget, it should be proving our worth.
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And this shit always happens on my worst days. I had such a crappy day at work, and those always correspond with getting shit reviews. The last time I had one, it was the same shit. Bad day all around, topped off with sprinkles made of a project I poured my heart and soul into. And that ax head is four days late. No sign of it. And I worked with one of my least favorite clients, who goes to extremes to be as irritating as possible, because annoyed people give him attention, and he's totally starved for it. So, whatever. Fuck today.