My body jerks,
Realizes I must write.
I am late. Late. Late.
But for what?
I cannot remember.
Yet persistent am I,
So I check my email.
Yes, I remember:
My friend, blog. Blog! Blog!
This is my week!
The end of my fourth day of summer and these are the first words I have written, and that is okay with me. Last year, January, I had an idea and wrote two scenes, about nine pages; inspired conflict, but completely lacking in defined characters and storyline.
Later I wrote more on the theme, and still lacked defined characters and storyline. Since I restrict my outside influences when writing, it was odd, but I did allow myself to watch a DVD of Bigelow’s HURT LOCKER. All three pieces of the puzzle came together after some intense research.
In the spring of last year I sent out the script to several theaters and festivals, and two weeks later I received interest from one, as well as notes framed as questions. I pounded out a revised draft in a week and sent it back. From the one I received more interest, and more questions. Nine months later I read the play again, and discovered I might have some answers. So I rewrote the play and sent it back again.
I received more interest, and more questions. Two months later – a Friday afternoon – I took a nap, and in my dreams I believe that I heard the faint mutterings of dialogue. I could not discern the words, but ‘felt’ it was time. I got up and sat down and handwrote a new Act I, Scene One; handwriting multiple pages of text is something I haven’t done since 1981.
The next day I went through the entire fourth list of questions, and sent out the revised play. This time I received more interest, and five tweaks! Who is to say whether I should be writing all of the time? Maybe I am; just in my head. I have discovered when the words are ready for the page, I write them down.Tweet