And here it is autumn. I was supposed to be back in the South by now. Instead, I'm bracing for the nightmare of another NE winter. In a decent world, the first day of autumn would not arrive until at least mid-October.
Obviously, no work yesterday. Day before yesterday, I got through a couple more pages on the screenplay. At the moment, 2-4 pages a day seems the best I can manage on the screenplay, which seems ridiculous. This is, truly, so much more difficult than writing prose. I'm working with my hands tied behind my back. Anyone who thinks writing a screenplay is easy needs to be faced with actually having to write one.
Yesterday, I had 18 pp. of screenplay. Today, I have 17. I'm going backwards. At this rate, I'll be back at p. 1 by the end of the week. (September 21)
~ and ~
"Craft" is a word a consciously avoid when I talk about my work. If nothing else, "craft" would imply that I know how I do what I do, and the truth is I have no idea whatsoever. For me, there is no craft to writing. For example, in The Drowning Girl, most of "7" was written in a single day with a high fever, and there were no revisions to it. No craft there. It just happened. I might even say, I have a sort of method, or methods, but I'd never say there's a craft to it. (September 21)
~ and ~
That'll do, pig.