Derry, Northern Ireland

Derry, Northern Ireland
A book I'm working on is set in this town.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Weirdness ensues

The last couple of days have been curious. I've been unable to focus on anything creative; had two headaches...including one snarly one as I was getting ready for bed, which I think came from a pinched nerve or something; and I've been non-stop hungry...something I think I finally satiated, this evening, with four slices of toast, butter and jam with tea.

I'm not on a diet; I'm just trying to cut back on how much I eat at a time. I was getting too used to the monster portions restaurants consistently serve, and my weight was steadily increasing to an uncomfortable stage. And I was doing good. I'm down 12 pounds since Labor Day and still sort of trending downward...but all of a sudden I just could not get full. Maybe I'm cutting back too much.

You see, I rewrote "Mine To Kill" (a horror script I wrote years...and years...ago) over the weekend, setting it in Syracuse and clarifying a couple of points, all because someone MIGHT want to see it, and I wanted it ready to send at a moment's notice. That's pathetic.

But that's screenwriters. We're the needy nerds of the film biz. While everyone else in the film crew gets treated with respect for the various jobs they do, screenwriters are pissed on by everybody from the bottom up. And we exacerbate that paradigm by letting them get away with that shit because we want to get produced and we're afraid if we stand up for ourselves, we won't be. And the truth is...we wouldn't.

And now that the rewrite is done thanks to the flimsiest of excuses, I feel stupid and immature and empty. But I can't face writing, at the moment, and my art is too demanding, at the moment, so I stuff my face. In BBT I can see a bit of myself in every character -- Leonard's dreams of normalcy even though he's brilliant; Sheldon's inability to understand the world around him; Raj's shyness and sense of being lost in another world; and Howard's bravado mixed with a complete lack of awareness of himself.

Tonight as I ate, I watched more episodes of BBT, and got sideswiped by one where everybody winds up arguing and we find out Sheldon can't handle it so reverts to his boyhood comforts -- comic books and toys. That's what brought home to me why I like the show. I see myself in every character and while it's funny in so many ways, it's also heartbreaking.

Okay, fuck tea -- I need booze.

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