So, it's May already. Where did April go? I spent much of it writing, but that's not what I'm going to talk about here.
I don't think of myself as an insecure person but I wonder now if I am.
I am 43 years old and I don't really have many friends at all. I'd say that I am friend poor. I have friends that I have absorbed through a process of osmosis by associating with other people, but they don't really count.
My wife: She has loads of friends. I have maybe one or two of my own. They don't seem that interested in me. They like me because I come with Jane but if we weren't together they probably wouldn't give me the time of day.
My best girlfriend: She is embarassed to introduce me to her friends and family. Who can blame her? She did once and I made a fool of myself. I was so keen on impressing them - I wanted to make my friend look good - that I acted like a jerk and made a mess of it all.
My best male friend: He has a rich friend who he jealously guards. It's as if he wants to keep that world seperate from mine. It's his friend and he won't share. Who can blame him? I'd probably mess that up too.
Outwardly I'm an intelligent, funny, charming guy. Deep down I find a way to mess things up. It's a strange realisation when you're 43 to find out that you have no friends, you can't make them, deep down you are unlikeable... I mean, why else would I have no friends? It's not them - it must be me. I find myself asking why anyone likes me.
I wish I was one of those guys who could just made friends in a heartbeat, go out and socialise and be the life and soul of the party. I like to tell myself I am a writer because I am shy and make worlds come alive on paper. Deep down I suspect I am just insecure, a pain in the ass and, basically, a fool.
I am going to type all this personal stuff here and I bet no one will even read it. I have no friends. I am not significant. None of this matters. I could die, like one of those old people who lie undiscovered for weeks or months, and no one would really notice.
PS I did some script work. I am wracked with self-doubt about it.
Tonight I am going to sit home alone. Even my daughter has a sleep over. My few friends are busy. My wife is out. I am alone.
Friday 2 May 2008
Friday 28 March 2008
Phase Three
I don't know what phase three is, but it sounds good.
I'm now halfway through a third draft and VIGILANTE is taking shape. Much like a sculptor building up a beautifully detailed face, he once started with an ugly blob of clay and got to the endgame through the careful and painstaking addition of small pieces of clay. This is what we do with our words. The final draft may bear little resemblance to the first, except in terms of spirit and theme. You just can't afford to be attached to anything.
What if he didn't own a petshop and he was a teacher? What if his best friend was his brother? What if he was poor instead of rich? What if he was a robot? You ask yourself all these questions and more as you try and get closer to something that works, something that makes more sense.
Your average script has about 25,000 words. Write four or five drafts and you have made 50,000 words. Throw in some treatments and outlines and by the time you're done you may have penned in the region of 60,000 words. That's a novel. And there's no guarantee anyone will like it. So, you'd better enjoy what you write. It's the only thing that will sustain you through the inevitable moments of darkness and self doubt when you think you have no talent, the idea stinks and you'll never amount to anything worthwhile.
I'm now halfway through a third draft and VIGILANTE is taking shape. Much like a sculptor building up a beautifully detailed face, he once started with an ugly blob of clay and got to the endgame through the careful and painstaking addition of small pieces of clay. This is what we do with our words. The final draft may bear little resemblance to the first, except in terms of spirit and theme. You just can't afford to be attached to anything.
What if he didn't own a petshop and he was a teacher? What if his best friend was his brother? What if he was poor instead of rich? What if he was a robot? You ask yourself all these questions and more as you try and get closer to something that works, something that makes more sense.
Your average script has about 25,000 words. Write four or five drafts and you have made 50,000 words. Throw in some treatments and outlines and by the time you're done you may have penned in the region of 60,000 words. That's a novel. And there's no guarantee anyone will like it. So, you'd better enjoy what you write. It's the only thing that will sustain you through the inevitable moments of darkness and self doubt when you think you have no talent, the idea stinks and you'll never amount to anything worthwhile.
Saturday 22 March 2008
First Drafts
So, I have a first draft of Vigilante. It came in on the right number of pages and hangs together pretty well. But, as they say, the first draft of everything is shit. So, with that in mind I am now on to the second draft. Adding here and there, cutting, adding definition to the characters, creating scenes, moving them around... but mostly adding.
Writing is full of self-doubt. Right now I feel like the whole thing won't work. It's too long, it's muddled, the characters are bland and all those other niggling little voices that chirp away in your mind and diminish the love you once had for a favourite child. The only way out is through and it beats digging ditches for a living.
The problem is that you never know whether what you've written is any good or not. I mean, how can you tell. You know the story works on some level, some of the characters have their own voice, you can hit the right story beats but will it work? I'm about half way through my second draft. Writing is rewriting and just like someone building their own home hopes that it'll turn out how they imagined it when they drew up the blueprints, you just don't know whether it'll keep you dry when it rains.
Onwards and upwards.
Writing is full of self-doubt. Right now I feel like the whole thing won't work. It's too long, it's muddled, the characters are bland and all those other niggling little voices that chirp away in your mind and diminish the love you once had for a favourite child. The only way out is through and it beats digging ditches for a living.
The problem is that you never know whether what you've written is any good or not. I mean, how can you tell. You know the story works on some level, some of the characters have their own voice, you can hit the right story beats but will it work? I'm about half way through my second draft. Writing is rewriting and just like someone building their own home hopes that it'll turn out how they imagined it when they drew up the blueprints, you just don't know whether it'll keep you dry when it rains.
Onwards and upwards.
Avoiding writing
This is what writers do. Contrary to popular belief we don't sit at a typewriter all day, we go to Starbucks, listen to music, tidy the house... anything except writing. Once we've done all the chores there are to do we often sit down to write, usually anything BUT the thing we're supposed to be writing.
I should be working on my current spec script. It's a feature with the working title VIGILANTE. The problem with working titles is that by the time you're done it's kind of stuck so make sure it's simple, attractive and tells the story. Vigilante is the story of a man's mental and psychological disintegration in the unobtainable goal of revenge. It's a take on the Death Wish genre of movies where a vigilante takes to the streets of a lawless city. I think it ties in well with what most people seem to be feeling right now, which is the law can't protect them and society is generally going to the dogs.
So, here I am blogging when I should be writing.
Maybe there's some hoovering or washing to be done.
FILM WATCH: The other night I rented the PARALLAX VIEW, a 1970s conspiracy thriller with Warren Beatty. I was struck at how little the film had dated. I think really good films just have a timeless quality about them, which comes the quality of the filmmakers involved. It was directed by Alan J Pakula, a mark of quality. It didn't matter about the hair or the clothes. The story was a solid, universal one that still speaks to people today. Maybe it's the optimist in me but the only black spot is the ending. Most people love it - and it is in character with the piece - but it's just not the ending I want. Maybe there's a lesson about life in there too.
I should be working on my current spec script. It's a feature with the working title VIGILANTE. The problem with working titles is that by the time you're done it's kind of stuck so make sure it's simple, attractive and tells the story. Vigilante is the story of a man's mental and psychological disintegration in the unobtainable goal of revenge. It's a take on the Death Wish genre of movies where a vigilante takes to the streets of a lawless city. I think it ties in well with what most people seem to be feeling right now, which is the law can't protect them and society is generally going to the dogs.
So, here I am blogging when I should be writing.
Maybe there's some hoovering or washing to be done.
FILM WATCH: The other night I rented the PARALLAX VIEW, a 1970s conspiracy thriller with Warren Beatty. I was struck at how little the film had dated. I think really good films just have a timeless quality about them, which comes the quality of the filmmakers involved. It was directed by Alan J Pakula, a mark of quality. It didn't matter about the hair or the clothes. The story was a solid, universal one that still speaks to people today. Maybe it's the optimist in me but the only black spot is the ending. Most people love it - and it is in character with the piece - but it's just not the ending I want. Maybe there's a lesson about life in there too.
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