get a grip

Spring hasn’t sprung; I have.  The day after I (sort of) finish something, I feel a little like the way I felt after I finished the Exams, whichever exams they were.  It’s almost a holiday feeling when you think you deserve some special treat for being such a good girl.

My motto, as those of you who know me at all, is that you should always have a reason to get out of bed in the morning.  Since I have been unable to swim, one of the major kick-start reasons has (temporarily, I hope) fallen from my life and I have to invent others.  Of course, the screenplay has been very pressing, with not only .a deadline but also frustrating obstacles. 

Most writers will tell you that extruding the first draft is like gouging out one’s bone marrow, that is, it’s quite difficult, even painful.  Rewriting, on the other hand, can be both pleasant and productive.  You already have a template to follow and the changes required are very apparent, unless, of course, you have to do a TOTAL revamp and then it’s hell.  So today will be a nit-picking day as I pick up on and clarify certain things, and do a printout.  Nice.

The danger is already apparent: I am about to goof off. On the edge.  I’m already busy with to-do lists and noodges having nothing to do with immediate work.  If I’m not careful I will spend the whole day fussing away, making pretentious lists and fiddling with extraneous paper until it’s over.

Blog to the rescue!  If I can write a few hundred deathless words, I will redeem the day.  Joan Didion (1934) compared her snatches of writing (before blogs) to a ball of string that one collects, wrapping short bits onto an ever-increasing mass of – what? Not just a ball of string.  Call it useless tap dancing, or nuggets of thought, or seedbeds. That’s my favorite term for the small subterranean niggles that might or might not be germinated and eventually grow into a blossoming idea.  Then, dare I say after suitable incubation. it pays, sometimes, to get the bit between one’s teeth ad run with it .  Oh, hey, block that metaphor!


Loose ends.