I don't think I've ever set up any expectation that my posting to this blog would be in any way consistent, either in frequency or quality. Why today, as opposed to any other day in the past three months, I've decided to return here is beyond me, except that I've just finished a very long and all-in-all very disappointing book and I have nowhere else to vent about it.
Another thing is, I'd hoped that my first post back would be something a little more momentous like announcing that I've finished that TV pilot script or...well, just that actually. I haven't. I'm two-thirds of the way through, but in all honesty that doesn't really matter since the entirety of it will have to be rewritten which I know doesn't negate the value of having written this version to start with but that it makes me feel like a failure. A slow failure.
There are a number of reasons why this version won't stand, not the least of which is the usual clumsy structure and flat dialogue. It's too long. It doesn't make good use of conflict and there's an almost complete lack of subtext and dramatic irony. It's trying too hard. I'm at my wit's end with it because when I set out to write the thing it was this clear, entertaining but meaningful story that everyone was going to love - I mean, I enjoyed watching it unfold in my own mind (which sounds crazy, but unfortunately is not; a little insanity would likely make me a better writer).
And now the thing is on the page (computer screen) in its third iteration and still it's nothing like what I envisioned. The names are the same and they're all doing the things I thought they would do, but it's jumbled and doesn't feel the same as it did when I first planned it all out. And it's taken me so long - too long to write. It's painful. It's such a struggle to sit there and do the thing; even though I try to relax and just let the words come out without judgment I inevitably scrutinize every line and I hate them all.
I mean, what am I even doing this for? I know there's this thing writers do where they're like "oh god, it's so hard and such a struggle and blah blah blah" and it sounds so self-absorbed to think that writing should be made to seem so much harder than anything else. We make stuff up; how hard is that? Tried building a bridge lately? Fighting social injustices? Nursing?
Actually, I am a nurse and I can tell you firsthand that going to that hospital and putting in a thirteen hour day in which I will likely be dealing in the blood and body elimination of a number of other human beings with hygienic standards well below my own is less daunting of a task than sitting down to write a single page of this goddamn script!
Why?
Confidence. I know what I'm doing at work and when I do it well I have a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. There's nothing of the kind to be had when writing. I'm in constant doubt about my own abilities to produce something of the slightest quality and as such every move I make is called into question. It's torture, in a way, because I can't help doing it yet I'm miserable when I do and at the same time I beat myself up when I'm not doing it because I'm not doing it enough. What kind of hell is this?
I don't have a resolution to share and I'm sick of writing about this. I'm going to go watch The Mindy Project and finish my pint of ice cream with peanut butter thrown in there (for protein, you know) and maybe later I'll return to my script with a fresh perspective and try my hardest to grasp a sense of freedom in the acceptance that I'm hundreds of thousands of pages away from writing anything that is any good but if I keep going I'll get there someday.
That's sort of encouraging, right?
I want to throw something.
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