So Im talking with this gal the other day whos a goth and kinda kinky, and as might be expected the topic of conversation comes around to Suicide Girls. Shed heard of it and had even been approached or applied (I dont know the protocol there) but was eventually turned down. If it had ended just there everything would have been copacetic, but no, there was more. She continued by saying that she didnt mind being turned down because most of the girls on the site were skanks anyway. This is interesting only because the girl in question is a stripper. Now Im not about to come to the defense of this site or any of the women on it because I figure to each their own, but Im thinking to myself, Ive seen you playing hide-and-seek with a dildo the size of a fucking thermos! Hello pot, kettle here. Youre black.
Moving on now, I have a real problem with writing. This is a real bitch because my career goal is to be a screenwriter and someday maybe a director, but for now Im content not to put the cart before the horse. The problem Im having is twofold: Im a perfectionist and I lack motivation. Now I know it might seem on the surface that these two things go together about as well as peanut butter and Astro-Glide but all dissimilarities aside, they seem to coexist harmoniously within me like my brain is some fucked up Bizarro World where up is down, the wheel is square and the architecture looks like it was conceived by MC Eschers slightly retarded son. For each new idea of mine I will have at least two reference sources, sometimes more as in the present case where I am reading no less than four books. Ill spend literally weeks poring over material related to the subject at hand until I know all the ins-and-outs and can answer almost any question thrown my way. What I strive for with my work is to reach that point where I can convince the reader/viewer that though the premise might be a fantastic invention, the situation may not be so far beyond the realm of possibility. All the literary pioneers of the genre have done this, taking what people know to be fact and blurring the lines. Effectively removing the barrier between their comfort zone and the uncertain. The problem there is that its a very internalized horror and though it looks good on paper most of it wont play onscreen. The bigger problem is that Im no Clive Barker.
The second issue, the lack of motivation, is something that has been a constant struggle for me all my life. It doesnt matter what it is, if it needs to get done Ill always take my sweet time getting around to it. I even procrastinate with things I enjoy doing (besides writing), case in point: movies. I have at least thirty DVDs that havent even been removed from the factory wrapping! Just how the whole perfectionism thing feeds into my procrastination is that when I actually sit down to write Ill stare at a blank screen for an indeterminate amount of time, type out a few sentences, sit, stare, erase and say Well, I need to do more research anyway and abandon the project for the day.
So now you can see how these two seemingly converse aspects bleed into one another. I have a theory that theres a third element involved that takes place in the split second between Prof. Obsessive passing the baton to Mr. Oh-look-theres-a-Get Smart-marathon-on TV Land. Im pretty sure that if I isolated it that it would either solve the mystery of life or open the Seventh Seal. Im not sure which.
What Im in need of is a really good motivator. Ive heard of some people using sex as an effective motivator, as in I will abstain from sex until A) I finish this scene, B) I complete the second act, C) I polish off my second draft. I already abstain from sex only I call it being a loser. No, Ive given this some thought and what Ive come up with is this: a glass case that I can mount on the wall above my writing area with a sign that reads IN CASE OF WRITERS BLOCK BREAK GLASS and inside will be a revolver with a single round chambered and ready to fire.
Writers are a masochistic lot. To give you and idea of what were whining about, Ill put it into perspective for you: writing is the literary form of blue-balls.
Okay enough with the heavy stuff, let me leave off with a little bit of levity. Im curious, is it discourteous to get angry with a one armed man for not holding a door open for you?
Moving on now, I have a real problem with writing. This is a real bitch because my career goal is to be a screenwriter and someday maybe a director, but for now Im content not to put the cart before the horse. The problem Im having is twofold: Im a perfectionist and I lack motivation. Now I know it might seem on the surface that these two things go together about as well as peanut butter and Astro-Glide but all dissimilarities aside, they seem to coexist harmoniously within me like my brain is some fucked up Bizarro World where up is down, the wheel is square and the architecture looks like it was conceived by MC Eschers slightly retarded son. For each new idea of mine I will have at least two reference sources, sometimes more as in the present case where I am reading no less than four books. Ill spend literally weeks poring over material related to the subject at hand until I know all the ins-and-outs and can answer almost any question thrown my way. What I strive for with my work is to reach that point where I can convince the reader/viewer that though the premise might be a fantastic invention, the situation may not be so far beyond the realm of possibility. All the literary pioneers of the genre have done this, taking what people know to be fact and blurring the lines. Effectively removing the barrier between their comfort zone and the uncertain. The problem there is that its a very internalized horror and though it looks good on paper most of it wont play onscreen. The bigger problem is that Im no Clive Barker.
The second issue, the lack of motivation, is something that has been a constant struggle for me all my life. It doesnt matter what it is, if it needs to get done Ill always take my sweet time getting around to it. I even procrastinate with things I enjoy doing (besides writing), case in point: movies. I have at least thirty DVDs that havent even been removed from the factory wrapping! Just how the whole perfectionism thing feeds into my procrastination is that when I actually sit down to write Ill stare at a blank screen for an indeterminate amount of time, type out a few sentences, sit, stare, erase and say Well, I need to do more research anyway and abandon the project for the day.
So now you can see how these two seemingly converse aspects bleed into one another. I have a theory that theres a third element involved that takes place in the split second between Prof. Obsessive passing the baton to Mr. Oh-look-theres-a-Get Smart-marathon-on TV Land. Im pretty sure that if I isolated it that it would either solve the mystery of life or open the Seventh Seal. Im not sure which.
What Im in need of is a really good motivator. Ive heard of some people using sex as an effective motivator, as in I will abstain from sex until A) I finish this scene, B) I complete the second act, C) I polish off my second draft. I already abstain from sex only I call it being a loser. No, Ive given this some thought and what Ive come up with is this: a glass case that I can mount on the wall above my writing area with a sign that reads IN CASE OF WRITERS BLOCK BREAK GLASS and inside will be a revolver with a single round chambered and ready to fire.
Writers are a masochistic lot. To give you and idea of what were whining about, Ill put it into perspective for you: writing is the literary form of blue-balls.
Okay enough with the heavy stuff, let me leave off with a little bit of levity. Im curious, is it discourteous to get angry with a one armed man for not holding a door open for you?
VIEW 17 of 17 COMMENTS
crftony:
Just noticed your crush on Tif Shepis. You, my friend, rock!
zerogirl:
oh, i love joe bob briggs. what was that show he used to have, monstervision? i will be reading that book, trust me.