Not Dead Yet

Sounds like a good zombie movie title (getting tired of those yet?), but in actuality I'm speaking of my writing life. So elusive, that. An oft sacrificed part of me lately, I will not let it die. Today, for the first time in months, I looked at some writing stuff. Went to Script Shadow, pulled up my scene-by-scene breakdown of that alien comedy I started two years ago (it's terrible. Just awful). Back. In. The. Saddle!

When you haven't really written in a long time, it's so hard to just jump back in. It's like exercising for the first time in two years - you're like "yeah, I know it's a good idea but look at me; it's going to take months for these spandex yoga pants to stop looking as if they're just sausage casings." And you have to keep showing up to the gym, your giggly parts flopping all over the place, everybody else knowing just by looking at you that this is not your thing. It's embarrassing.

But if you keep doing it, things start to change. You start looking better, feeling better, ultimately your entire life could change as a result of all this hard work. That's writing. You have to stop thinking about doing it, and just sit down, open your laptop and hammer out the worst dribble you've ever seen put down into actual words. I mean, just terrible terrible stuff.

But if you keep doing it...

If you're like me, and you find yourself unable to just let it go; if you keep coming back to this whole writing thing, then there's got to be something to that. It may be that the only difference between a phenomenal writer and a poor writer is strictly numbers. Minutes, hours, days, weeks. Numbers. Do the work, and see what happens. Just keep doing it.