"What you describe is the single most important practice an aspiring writer can learn. It is, literally if you will, the make or break fact of the aspiring writer’s life: you either have or do not have the capacity to maintain a daily writing routine—same time, for the same amount of time, producing roughly the same quantity of words." ---Michael Ruhlman to The Amateur Gourmet
I'm the president of Witness Theater, a (nonreligious) student theater group at JHU. We produce about 3 showcases of student-written one-act plays a year, and one student-written full-length. I'm hoping to have a full-length ready to submit by Nov. 25; I started writing on Oct. 25.
I read the above-quoted interview and it scared me very much. I find many food/tv personalities scary (I have dreams where Alton Brown is mean to me), and Michael Ruhlman is my newest phobia. He's from Cleveland too. I just want him to love me.
So I've resolved to prove that I have the capacity to work at writing like it's my job; this blog is part of that effort.
I have not been a good boy so far. I intend to wake up at 9 every day and shuffle to my writing table (AKA the kitchen table). Not easy; see Fig. 1:
Good intentions<------------------------------------------->Good deeds
Fig. 1: Please note that they are far apart.
I have, however, written some of my play every day. Actually so far it's been transcribing the ideas that I already had which, for some reason, I had decided to sit on. I sometimes think it works to hold an idea in my head so that it can work itself out up there. But then I remember that what 'works' is to write it down as soon as it comes, work on it until it's too big or to small or too smudged to see anymore, and then maybe walk away. Then maybe (MAYBE) while you're gone, it will work itself out.
So I was going at a good clip, confusing memory for creativity, until, on Monday, the clipper stopped. The wind left my sails, to continue that metaphor. I was lost at sea. It was really mortifying.
Tuesday and Wednesday I sort of solved the problem by plotting the play out scene by scene. It feels like progress, though there are of course plenty of new anxieties: How flawed is my concept? Will it work? Can it work? And if (when) I dwell too long on these, that last one morphs into a question truly terrifying:
Can I work?
So on that terrifying note: Happy Halloween! What are you dressed up as? I'm a naked elf.
(It's more coincidence than costume).
I have, however, written some of my play every day. Actually so far it's been transcribing the ideas that I already had which, for some reason, I had decided to sit on. I sometimes think it works to hold an idea in my head so that it can work itself out up there. But then I remember that what 'works' is to write it down as soon as it comes, work on it until it's too big or to small or too smudged to see anymore, and then maybe walk away. Then maybe (MAYBE) while you're gone, it will work itself out.
If I don't do my work, maybe naked children will do it for me! Photo from here.
(They wear hats instead of pants because their privates are on their heads.)
(They wear hats instead of pants because their privates are on their heads.)
So I was going at a good clip, confusing memory for creativity, until, on Monday, the clipper stopped. The wind left my sails, to continue that metaphor. I was lost at sea. It was really mortifying.
Tuesday and Wednesday I sort of solved the problem by plotting the play out scene by scene. It feels like progress, though there are of course plenty of new anxieties: How flawed is my concept? Will it work? Can it work? And if (when) I dwell too long on these, that last one morphs into a question truly terrifying:
Can I work?
So on that terrifying note: Happy Halloween! What are you dressed up as? I'm a naked elf.
(It's more coincidence than costume).
2 comments:
I don't think Alton Brown would be mean to you. I also don't think small children with reproductive organs on their heads will do your work for you. Wait, brownies have their privates on their heads?
Or is it that in their culture they consider the tops of their heads private but everything else is fair game? I mean, privates are a social construct... There is far too much anthropology in my life right now. And yet, I have the urge to live among these creatures and study them (or, as it may be, live among these creatures and have them study themselves for me).
Anyway, good luck.
Anastasia, there is only one real meaning to Brownies, and those are orange helmets, not genitals on their heads. Further, would prefer to see you return to talk of pirates than privates. and it is by the way true that those anthropologists are (voyeuristically) seductive. And Mitch, that good intentions make it on the same line as good deeds is in fact a start.
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