You never know if you’re any good at something until you try it.
I now know I’m not any good at a lot of somethings.
That’s fantastic, though. Mm, okay, “fantastic” is a stretch. “Hunky-dory?” Eh, not a term I’m apt to use. Sounds like something one says when he/she truly means the opposite. Perhaps it reminds me too much of “honky-tonk,” so I can’t take it seriously? OK, OK, I’ll settle with “peachy keen” for now because it sounds delicious.
It’s peachy keen. Over the past few months, there have been a handful of abortive attempts on my part at branching out toward mediums outside of screenwriting. Not gonna go into detail, but I’ll just say that this massive failure blob included a couple of weeks of a terribly Ben Wyatt-esque claymation scenario that I refuse to speak about for as long as I live and leave it at that. Yiiiiikes. Anyway, it’s because of these defeats that I’ve never been more certain than I am at this moment that what I’m doing is what I’m supposed to be doing. With each one of these other ventures, it was one huge misstep, and I was done. Over it. Never looking back. With screenwriting, I pull so much crap out of my mind, really disastrous hunks of it, repeatedly. Day after freakin’ day. And I keep coming back.
I can’t help it. I love every aspect of writing. I love obsessing over every single detail. I love the stress that it brings. I love spending an hour on a line of dialogue debating whether or not I should replace an “a” with a “the” because I worry it might change the meaning of the whole conversation or scene or piece. I love waking up the next day and deciding I didn’t even need that line of dialogue in the first place. I love noticing that “Crap, I didn’t even need this whole page! Nooooo, life!” I love being angry about it. I love fixing it. I love no longer being angry. I love the fleeting relief. I love repeating the process. I love it.
Great. Now I have that Icona Pop track stuck in my head again. And I had just gotten it out, too. Blah. Hunky-dory.
Now, let’s just pray that I remain on the straight and narrow. Don’t go screwing this up, Future Me! I need you to not be dumb about things.
Sidenote: How awesome is my Lisa Simpson USB? It’s the best. (Answered the question for you ‘cause it’s truuuuueeeee.)
I always take the IFC slogan way too personally.
I stumbled across this station on iTunes, and I honestly don’t think I can use any other background noise while I’m working ever again. It combines experimental electronic ambient music with NASA mission audio archives, and it is soothing as heck.
The only downside is that it occasionally gets scary ‘cause you’ll hear a guy repairing some machinery, and he’ll say something like, “Uh-oh,” and it’ll take you out of what you’re doing, and you’ll FREAK OUT ‘cause you’ll remember he’s in SPACE, and that is not a place where you wanna hear someone utter, “Uh-oh.”
Community’s missing the undertones of chronic, unwarranted self-doubt.