Log of a Creative Process

Make coffee. Realize milk is spoiled. Drink coffee black. Sit down at computer. Drum fingers. Write two sentences then erase in a fit of pique. Hit edit undo in case sentences turn out to be useful later (they aren’t).

Read disturbing news items. End up playing iSketch for an hour.

Drum fingers. Write same letter over and over. Get frusterated and pound keyboard. Go make coffee. Remember as it’s percolating that there is still no milk.

Tell characters that they’re fucking around and pissing you off.

Write blog entry. This is easier. Hit publish. Go back to script. Drum fingers some more. Oh joy, you have to go pee. Read magazine and forget you’re sitting on the toilet.

Lunch. Eat some bananas and leftover casserole. Get grumpy at poverty and lack of a variety of comestibles.

Play with dog.

Spend half an hour reading online articles about writers block.

Write something terribly revealing, cry, then save to journal and vow never to read it again.

Chase away roommate coming up to you and yammering on about there being only one roll of toilet paper in the house and wanting you to pay more for the toilet paper because you pee too much. Yell “I’m in the middle of a creative process!” Be mocked.

Go for walk, start laughing at your own jokes and creeping out passerby. Characters start babbling. Go back to computer and write ten pages. Be shocked when you find one of your characters going awol and doing their own thing. Yell “Cut it out!” and get strange looks from roommates.

Think about horribly dramatic traumatic climax, jot down a few words about it, remind self to write scene tomorrow, even though you won’t because you feel guilty doing that to your characters.

Get tut tutted for having a trashy office area with food wrappers every where.

Spend rest of evening watching reality television and wondering why independent film isn’t respected as much as it should be.

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