Pad and pen lives again

Honestly, I did not want to write a blog post. My writing keeps hitting road blocks because I do not know the whip of the moments. The solution is pad and pen. The most rudimentary tool for storytelling is the brain. I can only fully exploit this if I have ink and parchment, it provides a pathway for my mind to evolve an idea and seamlessly come up with new ideas to a story in a stream of consciousness way, without losing where I am going.

I have discovered new moments. That build up the story, to make it stronger and more unique. The process has given me things such as character motivation and weakness and strengths. I have learnt more about the universe of this story, by reflecting on death and the role it has. A minor detail that won't be examined in the story, but it has helped.

Slow progress is still progress and 25 minutes a day forces me to never allow failure. It will be three weeks since I started and it can be hard, but once you get started: it gets easier.

The lost art of not losing

I thought I wouldn't write about the whole blackmail thing I'm doing into writing more. I will make this one post and hopefully that will be it until next year.

The first week is almost up and I have two more days of writing. So far I have done fourteen pages. Not bad. I have really sucked some days and done well other days.

Yesterday I wrote a paragraph. I think Tuesday, I got four pages down.

I left it really late tonight. This second draft won't be anything special. I'm still working out the story and the structure.

When I write I either embellish the dialogue and spare the description or vice versa. It is liberating to know that it does not have to be perfect, it just has to have something that can become better or cut.

The third draft will get a treatment, and then I can make it tight and just refine it for a couple more drafts until I am happy with it and then throw it around to some mates and colleagues to get feedback.

I talked to my mate who is an aspiring proper writer (Novelist) last Sunday. I figured the next project after this will be a play, a nice little play with no real reason to exist. Then go off and write a web series with my mate Will. At least I will be have plenty of stuff to write for this year.

The pressure of losing money makes me want to just get the writing done. I should have done something like this since I left university. Allowing my skills to dull and just waste away what I could do.

There is a story about a Wing Chun practioner who was well known in Hong Kong. I will not be factually correct in this, but he stopped for a few years, maybe, five. One day he came back to train, thinking it would be easy. This was a man who put the time in, would sweat from training for hours, blood and cuts on his knuckles and leg cramps from the strict stance Yee Gee Kim Yeung Ma, that would build up power. He struggled, he forgot that training even for a few minutes a day will keep your sense sharp.

Thinking about an action is sometimes good enough for remembering your skills. Leave it for too long and you'll be working your arse off to get back to where you were, rather than working to get further.

 The one thing I love more about writing at the moment is that I wouldn't care about getting paid for it. I'd hate to lose money for not writing though, that is a great motivator.

I won't lie, I will fucking hate some days and love others. Six months time, I will be hammering in nails into the table with my forehead. It won't work, because the nails will be the wrong way round.

I have made a huge mistake

Much like Gob Bluth. I too have made a huge mistake.

I've just thrown $1300.00 on the line. Why to make myself write.

I have signed up to Stickk.com to building a habit to write for 25 minutes every day. For a year.

Every week, my referee will have the choice of saying whether I did my 25 minutes each day. Otherwise 25 minutes will go to an anti-charity of my choice. It's a bad one, something that I am on the opposite end of the spectrum in opinion.

I regret my actions which is good. Now I have to force myself to do it every day, rather than just do nothing like I have this past week.

This might be the only way to write consistently though.

Bold actions lead to interesting results. I have said how writing can be hard. Now I don't have a choice. I will not fail. I cannot fail.

If you're going to fuck up at something

If you're going to fuck up at something. You have tried your hardest. Keep fucking up, if you're half way there, you might as well finish it.

Failure #2

The 100 failures continues. I struggle with writing. It has been stated in the blog, so many times that people have stopped reading it, because that is all I have to say.

Struggling to get three pages down in roughly 30 minutes, is pretty bad by my standards. This is a massive journey for me. Much like Joe Campbell's monomyth that is used in films today, I am trying to follow the path and live that pattern.

This is not a fun thing to do. It shouldn't be fun all the time. Self doubt set in, as it usually does. Thinking what is wrong with the script and how to improve it for the next draft. The next draft?! I'm only 18 pages into the second draft. I need to push that out of my mind. Failure never leaves you, you just learn to accept it more I suppose.

My target for what the film should be is not fitting with the words I splutter onto the keyboard. Something good will come of it, I just have to accept that this draft will suck as well.

There is something in my head that is becoming stronger and it is just telling me to just stop and do something else.

It is believing that people think you are an idiot. I have to stop believing and rise above it. I will not become the person I want to be.

The second failure isn't my script. It is myself, I am a constant failure. That is fine. I don't hate myself. Unlike in stories. I will never succeed. I just have to be a less consistent failure.The only choice I have is to drag myself kicking and screaming. Because sitting around at home, will not improve me.

This is a repost.

The rules of the game have always been the same.

I have a number of books on writing and self help books. Things that I have acquired over the course of five years. They all tout the same rules, the song remains the same.

Then why is it that there are so many books with the same subject material and the same points? Could it be the fact that we need to be reminded? Do we need the information punched through our skull, numerous times so that we can "discover" it.

Self discovery and self help books are a part of a modern persons reading for a period of time. A chance to meditate on what is and what isn't possible. It is not that you learn to do these things and look for the patterns of success. It is however, about you getting sick of reading the same thing, over and over.

The rule for meeting women? Go outside. The rule for buying food? Go outside. The rule for looking a life like nobody else? Go outside. That should be the first rule of your life. You've heard this before, and  it is the pattern of human development. We all enjoy an underdog, whether it be Shaun of the dead or Rocky. The story is the same, just different window dressing. Seneca has similar rules to success to the modern day thinkers. 

Honestly, I am scared by failure on an almost daily basis. Scared, by trying and always regretful of never trying? That feels like who I am. I strive and struggle. Some days I can write, and others days I try.

I can put off a haircut for three months. I can put off chatting up a girl for what must be 7 months. I can put off anything, because in my shell, failure is just a word.

It is my own fault that I allow myself to dwell in the shell. I can for a few moments of intense focus achieve things, such as talking to the girl. I notice a huge response in people's reactions, a more positive one as if in their minds they are thinking "fuck, this guy is on the ball". Quite honestly that is the person I want to be, and it is possible to be that guy.

I know I am not the only person in is bind, and I am not the only one that is self aware of this situation. I have worked people who have more regret in their veins than they have blood.

We all know who we can be. It is the hardest thing in the world, to live up to our vision. The interesting thing as an aspiring writer of visual media is that I am inspired by my own experiences. To look back on what I have done in a farcical manner. To be able to laugh at myself. Yet, I am scared of trying. This coming from a guy who has read a lot of aspirational material for a few years.

Second draft

1 and a half hours of writing today and I got 12 pages out of the way. I was hoping to do three hours, but my concentration was waning, so I cut it short. No point in overdoing it.

I meant to start yesterday, but I just never got round to it. It is nice that I am starting the second draft almost immediately after MY first draft (the one which no one will ever see) because when I have done a second draft, I would take a few weeks or a month off it. However my interest in this project and the enjoyment of improving my process has made it a lot of fun.

A lot of dialogue, not a lot of action. That seems to be my safety at this point. I think on second drafts, I know where my strengths are and stick with them. Proper third and fourth drafts are unknown territory for me.

The third and fourth drafts will be more about cutting down on the dialogue and upping the action. Maybe the fifth about getting the scenes in the best shape and maybe a sixth to make alterations and smooth out what may seem disjointed.

Today, I fucking love writing.