Pass the Grapevine
February 28th 2009 02:43
Late night ponderings before sleep have gone unchecked and unwritten too often for me lately. If I went to a doctor today, I would want him to prescribe me inspiration. There's no such thing as writer's block in this creative mind of mine, but the act of turning on the laptop or digging into my screenplay treatments and just DOING IT isn't happening. Why?
Has my recognition lapsed its used by date? I can remember reading in that all empowering weekly inspirer that is the Sydney Morning Herald's 'Spectrum' that a writer will be arrogant and expect to be something more than mediocre until success and recognition kicks in, mellowing the mind. For me, recognition came early but success does not seem as close as it used to.
I definitely feel that writing will always be something on the top of my to do list, yet it needs to be offset with time spent actually earning money. I'm starting to wonder if this fact even frustrates me any more, as it has done before. I was always the cool kid, chilled out and yellow, but its gotten to the point where my subconscious figures the act of writing isn't worth its weight in feathers like it used to be. Like I've already done it all.
Or at least as much as is expected of a featherweight.
In becoming comfortable with the cyber-screenplay that is these websites of mine, regardless of the constant contraction and expansion of readership, I have found myself being non chalant about the networking aspect of this whole damn Orble thing. Morgan Bell, I see her up in the top of the pops every day, just like Dusk and ash used to be. These people know how to charm everyone into liking them, and do not mind doing so.
I know how to charm the pants off everyone and send them home with smiles on their faces, but when I'm sitting in front of a computer I simply DON'T WANT TO! I am here because it is a haven from everything else that is occuring in my life, where maintenance of relations and relationships is often a struggle being the yes man that I ain't.
Admittedly, most of the time I do try to say yes. Me saying no often involves silence and an honest stare into the eyes of the person I wish to say it to. They usually understand, as the topic for discussion is allowed to ponder into other territories.
Wine and gossip. Pass the Grapevine.
Has my recognition lapsed its used by date? I can remember reading in that all empowering weekly inspirer that is the Sydney Morning Herald's 'Spectrum' that a writer will be arrogant and expect to be something more than mediocre until success and recognition kicks in, mellowing the mind. For me, recognition came early but success does not seem as close as it used to.
I definitely feel that writing will always be something on the top of my to do list, yet it needs to be offset with time spent actually earning money. I'm starting to wonder if this fact even frustrates me any more, as it has done before. I was always the cool kid, chilled out and yellow, but its gotten to the point where my subconscious figures the act of writing isn't worth its weight in feathers like it used to be. Like I've already done it all.
Or at least as much as is expected of a featherweight.
In becoming comfortable with the cyber-screenplay that is these websites of mine, regardless of the constant contraction and expansion of readership, I have found myself being non chalant about the networking aspect of this whole damn Orble thing. Morgan Bell, I see her up in the top of the pops every day, just like Dusk and ash used to be. These people know how to charm everyone into liking them, and do not mind doing so.
I know how to charm the pants off everyone and send them home with smiles on their faces, but when I'm sitting in front of a computer I simply DON'T WANT TO! I am here because it is a haven from everything else that is occuring in my life, where maintenance of relations and relationships is often a struggle being the yes man that I ain't.
Admittedly, most of the time I do try to say yes. Me saying no often involves silence and an honest stare into the eyes of the person I wish to say it to. They usually understand, as the topic for discussion is allowed to ponder into other territories.
Wine and gossip. Pass the Grapevine.
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