Ah crap, it's do or die time.

Phillip Barron's blog is so f**king entertaining and inspiring, I ignored common sense and responded to an advert on mandy.com which requested a synopsis and logline for a supernatural horror script.

I have one of those! I thought.

You may remember my feedback regarding The Grim? "It's not ready yet!" A unanimous verdict. Rewrite definitely required!

And seduced by the ease of email, I gayly sent off the synopsis despite the fact that the script is in DIRE NEED OF A REWRITE.

I'll have loads of time, I thought, they won't get back to me for weeks. Besides they'll hate it. I'll probably never hear from them again - - unless it's to tell me to stop contacting them.

Wrong. So very wrong.

2 days later... TWO. Count 'em! ... 2 days later they email me to request the script.

Now way back when I did start the rewrite, but then my time got taken up with other things like getting my book ready for publication, outlining new ideas, and working every-hour-there-is just so's I can pay the bills and eat. And then of course there's all the time taken up by pointless things like sleeping and eating and socializing...

Okay, it's nearly a year. You've got me, I'll cop to it. I have no excuse other than pure laziness. And now someone wants to see a supernatural horror script ASAP. DRAT!

So, I figure I've got about two days to rewrite The Grim to get it ship-shape and send it in before they read someone else's masterpiece and block all other email submissions!

What? They might. In my paranoid dreams they do at any rate.

Two days? Phill would laugh, easy, he'd say. - - Yeah right. In addition to that I made the mistake of agreeing to work overtime this weekend, so my days are fully taken. I have about an hour free after sunrise and and hour in the evening before sunset, but other than that I only have the dark, wee small hours to write in. Still it's a supernatural horror. It should add to the atmosphere of the piece. And I've always fancied staying awake for 48 hours straight when I'm not high on adrenaline and coffee from playing D&D like I used to back when I was 17.

I've been tired for the last two weeks and I didn't get much sleep last night due to my neighbours' very loud party... I wonder at what point I'll pass out on my laptop from exhaustion?

Wish me luck! ;)

Get your Whedon on!

The Three Gifts

When my Fairy Godmother (A.K.A. The Fairy God-Cat) cursed me at birth she didn't mess about. Those Three "Gifts" she gave me were the ones that any sane person dreads:

1) WRITING
2) PROCRASTINATION
3) BOUNDLESS OPTIMISM

Individually, not so bad you might think. But as a combination quite capable of destroying the mind and soul of the fainthearted. Luckily I have the heart of an ox. I keep it pickled in a jar in the cupboard.

1) WRITING - quite a cool gift you might imagine, unless of course you are afflicted with it.

If I don't write regularly I start to lose my grip on reality: one month without any kind of writing and I start to slip into minor insanity... I tried it once as an experiment.

Really. Not. Pleasant.

I am only loosely connected to sanity at the best of times, I tend to orbit around sanity rather than live hand-in-hand with it the way most people seem to. So when I say the feeling of losing your grip is unpleasant, I'm already starting from a point a ways off normal. (I know some other writers are afflicted with this curse, so don't pretend you're not aware of the feeling I'm talking about gentle readers! YES, I am looking at you. Stop trying to hide behind that cup of expresso!)

The other problem with being afflicted with writing, is that I really know that I can write. ... It's not some half-hearted optimism, but a firm belief. No, it's more than that! I actually KNOW that I can write.

I'm a fanatic when it comes to my belief in my ability to write. It isn't a wishy-washy spurious system of belief like say 'a belief in the existence of God'
(Or gods? Whatever, choose your poison).

I KNOW I CAN WRITE. IT IS WHO I AM. - - Which links into the whole boundless optimism thing.

You could present me with an affidavit which says that "Eleanor is a bad writer" signed by every writer there ever was, is, or ever will be, and it wouldn't make a dent. ... I'm a bit of an ego monster about my writing. Perhaps a quiet monster that prefers to lurk rather than being the type of monster who shouts from the rooftops or swings from buildings, but a monster nonetheless. *sigh* Told you it was a curse.

2) PROCRASTINATION - "So what?" you say, "Every writer indulges in that particular paddling pool."

Yeah, okay, fair cop. But when you really know you can write and then get no where fast doing it, the doubts creep in. And that's not just doubts about your ability as a writer, that's doubts about your whole reason for being.

ARGH!

3) BOUNDLESS OPTIMISM - which drags me back into the whole vicious circle of hell that keeps me always looking for that next story, the next hit, this might be the one...

*gnashes teeth*


So, gentle readers, were any of you cursed at birth? And if so, with what?
Enquiring minds need to know. Fess up, I double dare ya.

Don't Know Mind

One of the concepts in Zen is Don't Know Mind. Powerful stuff it is, ... or isn't, ... or heck, do you even care?

But I have just realised I should maybe be applying it to the way I've been (successfully procrastinating by) trying very very very hard to learn this whole screenplay 3 act structure malarky for a fairly long time now.
Quite a revelation, and mostly thanks to Mr Martell and his insights:

He has yet another great script tip up at his site, this one is called Three Act Conflict

"The 3 Act Structure is a tool that has been around for at least 2,400 years in storytelling - and it has lasted so long because it works. But the purpose of the 3 Act Structure is not to make sure that you have a major plot point halfway down page 27, it's to make sure your story IS a story... not just a collection of events that concern a protagonist. One of the Three Greek Unities is Unity Of Event - your story has to be about ONE event rather than a series of events. Some think of the Three Acts as "beginning, middle, and end" as a way to target a single event... to make sure the story IS a story."

Now I have spent a long time trying to work out the secrets of structure, how to get it all just right, find that magic formula.

And you know what I just realised? I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING about 3 act structure. The harder I try to fathom it out, the more I tighten my grip, the further it slips through my fingers like grains of sand.

I already have everything I need to create story. I don't need to try so very darned hard to figure it out.

"Do... or do not. There is no try."

Hmm.

Thanks Yoda.

*prolific swearing*

Phew! Thank goodness that's over!

Moving house ... Who'd do it? Huh? Huh?

Specially with the amount of crud it turns out I own. *rolls eyes*

Well, I took some time off work - spent some of it being ill (timing sucks!) and for the rest of it I was packing up my stuff for the move. Managed to get it done in time for the heroes who turned up with their van to shift all my worldly possessions.

I paid cash, strapped as I am, because the new flat is on the second floor.

Now you may be able to tell that I am British, so by second floor I mean up two very long twisty and treacherous flights of stairs.

No way I was doing all that on my own!

... And all the masochists I'd managed to con into helping me move house on previous occasions somehow, mysteriously had developed totally solid, utterly un-cancelable other plans (like watching television and sniggering as they ate popcorn, I suspect).

I threw away/recycled a whole bunch of stuff, and yet I still seem to have more junk than anyone can possibly own. Maybe the gnomes keep adding lost items to the J-space* in the back of my cupboards whenever they can?

Well the men were great. Worth every penny. (Stop snorting Lucy!)
If you are ever in East Devon and looking for a removal firm I can recommend them whole-heartedly. H. E. R. O. E. S.

So that's over and done with, phew!

Now all I have to do is unpack everything. Groovy.
First thing I've started on is my office. It's looking good. :) Lots more to do yet though.

Hopefully I'll have everything ship-shape again ASAP so I can devote myself to the writing again. First things first though: BT are putting a phone line in on Tuesday so I can be contactable again. I'll be able to relax a bit once that has happened. And of course I have to contact everyone in the world with my new details ... like the Inland Revenue and the DVLA and all those other lovely people who need to know where I am so they can bill me for this that and the other. Joy.

The sooner we get the technology to just plug a change of details in to one form on our personal I.D. webspace so we can sit back and relax knowing that all the necessary authorities, utility companies, friends, associates, freaks and angels have been notified the better says I.

Roll on the sci-fi future.

Heck we already have microwaves and iPhones. Hurry up with the rest of it already!

So now I'm back at work recovering from the stress and physical exertion of moving. It's been a busy week.

How's your week been?

*Junk

Well, this has been one weird-ass week ... A.K.A. Good procrastination can be very good!

This has been a week of weird, and altogether far too much is going on! But all of it good. :)

The additional part time job (factory work. *YAWN* And incidentally not the job I had the good feeling about, which turned out to be yet another wind-up siding on the path of trying to earn a living) started this week - light manual labour for two days, but boy am I knackered. It's good though. Once I'm used to it, it'll give me the chance to switch in to auto-pilot and let my brain soar away in to the land of story. Also a great opportunity for people-watching. Plus, I will now be able to afford to do a few things that I enjoy - - If I can ever find the time!

Excellent.

I've been idly thinking that I may need to move to a cheaper house, but without quite being at the commitment level that involves planning a move. However, on a whim this week I went and saw a place that unexpectedly is just PERFECT. So I put in an offer, without even thinking of the "Oh my goodness I have to pack everything and throw away all the shit I moved house with the last two times before I even consider moving house again" consequences. I didn't think I'd get it, the people who saw it directly before me put in an offer too, so I thought I wouldn't stand a chance in hele, but the agents turned around and said "It's yours!" ... So now I have to sort out all the paperwork and then spend every spare moment throwing out or recycling crap, and packing all my other stuff so I can move house some time in the next two to three weeks.

ARGH! But also, Excellent!

And then last night ... ho-oo boy, last night! ... Last night I came home to a phone message that proves not all procrastination is bad, in fact some can be down right amazingly good!

All that procrastinating I did, editing my Tarot book after that nibble of interest from a publisher, has paid dividends. I sent them a letter detailing my new vision for the book - basically turned the emphasis of the book on its head, the main thread is now (to use screenwriting terminology) B Story, and the secondary thread is now most definitely the A Story ... except we're talking about Tarot so it's not a novel and the word story really doesn't apply. But you get what I mean.

There's a shed load of work to be done yet, and no money at all (virtually), but come next spring I'm gonna be a published author! WAY-HEY! HOORAH! etc, etc. *dancing in celebration*

So procrastination has been my official route to becoming a published author.

YAY!

You can't see it but I'm doing The Dance Of Joy ... and as I boogie, I notice all the crap around the flat that I should be in the process of packing, or recycling, or throwing out. *sigh*

But, how good is that?!!

This has been one weird-ass week.

"Have you paid your dues, Jack?"
"Yes, Sir. The check is in the mail."