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.
