A long weekend approaches and the prospect of actually getting some real writing done. I keep telling myself I only have like three weeks to get my full-length Good World rewritten so that I can enter it into a number of competitions and whatnot. Telling myself this doesn’t actually seem to get me to sit down and do it so I’m thinking I may have to start threatening myself with violence.
I also have to type up the corrections to a short play which at the moment is called Just Over There but I have a feeling by the end of the weekend will either be called Vengeance or Wrath. Makes it a little more hardass, which is essential for all good short plays.
For all this to happen, as well as housework and a lazy Sunday afternoon drink session, it means it will have to start the moment I get home tonight. Which is a shame. I love my Friday nights. I put some music on, I open a bottle of wine, and I dance, dance, dance. Seriously. It’s not as wacky as it sounds. Nothing like a good dance session to flick the stresses of the week out the window and forget for a moment that life is not as great as you want it to be.
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