Figments and Celebrations

Yes. I haven't been blogging in the last few days but that is because I have been working my already hard-working butt off and …

I HAVE FINISHED THE FIRST DRAFT OF MY NEW FULL-LENGTH PLAY.

Do I rock?

… Ah, yes.

Have I become more beautiful and intelligent because of my great feat?

… Undoubtedly. I positively freakin' glow.

Did it turn out anything like I planned?

Not even close. Towards the end there is a lot of biting and a lot of blood flowing and well, it kinda gets a little weird and perhaps when I think about it at a later date it will seem a bit vampirish and it will be the first thing to go in the rewrites .. hang on. I just finished the first draft. Let's not sully the moment with talk about rewrites. Rewrites. It's perfect, it's wonderful, it's a goddamn work of art people.

Sorry.

So you should be … mean little figment of my imagination.

Okay. I apologised. What more do you want from me?

Oh, so now it's my fault? Typical.

Can we move on?

Don't speak to me like that. That tone. You should be ashamed of yourself.

I'm moving on. I don't know about you … Will I be celebrating?

Well, I got pretty tanked last night and am feeling it in the head region this morning. But what I'm really going to do is get the hell out of my writing room for a bit. Go see something that isn't my reflection in the computer. That sight will depress the hell out of anyone.

Thanks for the chat.

Oh fuck off.

 

 

And more and more and more

I had a great day writing yesterday. Finished the first draft of the short story and also managed to get out about 6 pages on the new play. The problem is that I can't just leave the short story fester. The first draft was hard but the second draft is going to be harder. And then the third, fourth … AH!

On the other hand, the first draft of the new play, Good World, is just spilling out. They all seem to have found their voices at the moment and all want to have long chats with each other. Could I ask for more?

Of course, as much as I did yesterday and it would be around the 6-7,000 word mark, there is still a HEAP of things I still have to do that haven't got near. Grants mostly, that are weighing on my mind. And a rewrite of the play that is going up in November. I got some great notes from a theatre company that was interested and I want to try and incorporate some of them before I send it out to get some money for the production. Is their ever an end to all of this? No, seriously, I'm asking. Will their ever be a three week block in my life where I think, let's go on a real holiday, let's go see things and do nothing? Doubt it. Enough whinging. Back to work.

Today

Did do some work on the short story yesterday – not as much as I wanted to – but that's the way it always goes with me. Feel pretty pumped to get to it today. I managed to work out the back story for my two main characters and I have them at the point where they meet for the first time.

Was going to do some more last night but started watching Finding Nemo for the first time and couldn't get away. What a great film. Funny and sad – is there a better formula for a hit?

In fact, at the moment, I'm feeling pretty pumped about everything. This always happens when I'm a week away from going back to work. I see the jail doors closing and I rush everything I can out before they slam shut. This year is the year when the day job becomes the love job. Really. It just has to. Back to the $10,000 short story.

 

Onwards and Upwards

Have finally finished this draft of The Cleaning Station and sent it off to J. it's a great feeling. But unfortunately unable to rest on own laurels. There is a short story competition that closes in about two weeks and first prize is worth $10,000. While I haven't written a short story in forever, this is the year that I'm going to make some money so I'm not going to let this one pass me by. $10,000 is five months off writing. $10,000 is a trip to New York. I've got an idea of what I want to do for the short story so I'm going to sit down this morning and try and get some sort of first draft written.

In other news, have just recently got into the show Entourage. Jeremy Piven is a genius. How can someone so awful be so likeable? And Ari is pretty awful. Just look at the face of his wife. Could she be more horrified at how her life turned out? I'm only up to the second season but it's immensely watchable.

Gauntlet

Had a wonderful night on Tuesday with best friend out on the deck on her house eating pizza and throwing back wine and talking about everything under the sun. Best Friend is quite amazing and even more amazing drunk. She told me in no uncertain terms that I had to get my ass to New York and she didn't want to be here the same time next year having the same conversation. So the gauntlet has been, well, at least revealed.

Going back, going forward

I thought I would have my work cut out for me doing the rewrites of The Cleaning Station. But it was nowhere as bad as I thought. In fact, a lot of it is actually quite good. I only have about five pages to go and once that is done I'm going to rewrite something else. I'm thinking that may be the key to not feeling overwhelmed. I have a lot of things that are fine, they just need a rewrite. But it's just more fun to start new stuff, to think about the future rather than go back and try and remember what I was thinking when I wrote that. Or, more importantly, what was I trying to say and how can I now say it better. So that's what I'm going to do today. Finish rewrites for The Cleaning Station and then rewrite one or more short plays.

Brave and Noble Heroes

Feeling very good this morning as I sit on my couch and watch our prime minister say 'SORRY' for past injustices to our indigenous people. It was just amazing. Even though that's not the right word. It was … I don't want to say profound but it was. I thought I would never see it. I didn't think we would ever have a leader that was brave enough to do it. People don't get to use these words very often in the world that we live in but it was noble, it was right, it was brave, and it was historic. I hope that this act changes things. I hope that Prime Minister Rudd's words regarding moving forward, creating an equal future, are not just words. As cynical as I had become under John Howard's leadership, there still burns a glimmer of hope that we can live in a world, we can live in a country where injustice and inequality become archaic words packed up into history and not needed to explain our lives and the world we live in. Well done Mr Rudd. Today, you get to play my hero.

Why does everything

 

take so much longer than I think they are going to take? Case in point. Thought I would quickly revise a ten minute play No Fish, No Father before I sent it to a couple of festivals. Quick. That was the aim. Two hours later, quick had most definitely left the building in a flurry of disgust as I struggled to rewrite half a page. HALF A PAGE!!! Jesus. Yes, I know, patience is the key to all things. And it did get done and I did get it off to three places. But come on people. I mean seriously.

What makes this worse is that all I've been reading is stuff that usually gets me into high gear work mode where I just churn out stuff. You want to know what this stuff is? Don't really care if you don't. It's my blog and I'll make it as uninteresting and self-obsessed as I feel necessary. Well, what I do is read stories of people who are way more successful than I am and then I guilt myself into working harder. Oh, what a shrink would do with this. I can see them licking their lips and planning the extension on the beach house. But it's not beating myself up despite the roars of protest. It's just plain old arrogance. If they can do it, I can do it. A good does of ego painted in ugly colours by arrogance gets work done. And no shrink is going to tell me different. While I didn't get as much done as I thought, it still got done. And I had a wild look in my eye while I was doing it.

I also started printing everything I could think of to use up the ink in my old printer before I change over to my new printer. I have this huge pile beside me and there is still ink left. If anyone needs anything to print, send it my way. I'm fast running out of stuff.

Bug

Okay, well, this has been bugging me for a week now and while this may be seen by some as petty (Me? Never? You are. No, you are) I believe you have to correct the small things before you launch into tackling the big, earth-changing things. I was at the movies last week and there was this middle-aged couple who walked in and sat down. Fine. Then five seconds later, they got up and moved somewhere else. Okay. Then the husband decided that it was really over there that he wanted to sit. The wife was having nothing to do with it so the husband took matters into his own hand and took off on his solo trek. Slightly annoying. Wife decided that as wife one of her rights is to have someone to sit with during movies. Much huffing and puffing and she moves and sits herself next to him. Did I mention that prior to movies they had made several purchases from shops that wrap their goods in loud crunchy paper that have to be handled and placed in various positions every time these idiots decided to move. Husband at this point is feeling pretty good about himself and is crunching away in his 'perfect' seat. Wife is pissed off but is happy to be just sitting somewhere for more than five seconds. Is that the end? No, of course not. Husband who has a terminal case of grass is always greener somewhere else disease inhales loudly, shakes his head and says at the top of his voice "Nup". So of course he has to move again. Wife is ready to sign the divorce papers there and then and starts doing the angry loud whisper. And do you know where he moved them to? Of course. The first place they sat down. It's moments like these that make me understand how the world got so fucked up.

Work with a capital W.

Yesterday was a bit of a non-starter. I read the papers, I had a shower, I went shopping. M is buying me a new printer for my birthday. There's nothing wrong with my old printer apart from the fact that it doesn't have a clue in hell what Windows Vista is and won't let me do a lot of things. I'm sure there is some file on some website that I can download but it seemed easier to get a new printer. Seriously. Well, it did on my head. And I did get a new printer and it looks pretty spiffy (it's still in its box) but it seemed to wipe me out for the rest of the day and night. But then of course I went to bed at 11.00 and could not sleep for the life of me. I finished reading my book, I practised relaxation exercises, nothing.

So, now, today, I'm all half-asleep and not quite in the moment. And today is a day of Work with a capital W. Work. I'm going to start by doing a heap of submissions because I've been really slack with submissions this year. And for someone who has a motto of write, then submit, something has to change with that. So first submissions. And then I have to print out a whole heap of stuff and then I have to hook up my new printer.

Then I have to do a rewrite on The Cleaning Station … and if there's any time left over, I'll think of something else to do.

Trickery

The things we do in order to get things finished. Trickery, deceit, morally corrupt behaviour. Okay, well, maybe it wasn't that bad. Had to get last scene of The Cleaning Station finished. Was boring myself with the slowness of getting it out. Alas, had absolutely no interest in sitting down and concentrating on it. So this is what I did. I pretended I wasn't working on it. I had it there on my computer screen but I feverishly ignored it and worked on my short story. Of course, before you knew it, I was thinking of how the final scene could be staged and writing it in bits and pieces and while it took forever, it is now officially done. Except for the rewriting which it will need quite a bit. But I did get to write THE END and that was all I needed to happen last night. Well, actually, early this morning.

Onwards and upwards.

Confession

Oh, and I didn't finish the play. One more scene to go. Today, today, today.

Caryl and Martin and a couple of strangers

I went to a double bill of plays last night – This is a Chair by Caryl Churchill and Advice to Iraqi Women by Martin Crimp. It was from this company who I haven't heard of before but seem to be a bunch of former uni students getting out there and making theatre. Nothing wrong with that, in fact there is a lot right with that. They seem to have only done a few productions and have neatly carved it up between plays by Martin Crimp and stuff they have written themselves. Much to like about that.

They did This is a Chair first. I think this is one of Churchill's less successful plays. Compared to A number which I thought was incredible, this was a bit cold and too in your face politically. Don't slam it down my throat Caryl. I feel the same way when seeing Stephen Sewell. I want to walk up to them and say you think you're the only one who has realised the world is fucked up? Seriously. But that wasn't what really bothered me last night. It was the seriousness of the production. It was as if the director sat them down on the first day of rehearsals and said we are doing a serious play. Act accordingly. I think you have to have a little fun with Caryl. I think she demands you flow through the play with loose gestures and an even looser tongue. All those crisp cut-off sentences demand a loose, lazy body. Just my opinion.

However, they redeemed themselves spectacularly with Advice to Iraqi Women. Now, upfront, you'd have to completely baby rape Martin Crimp for me to find something wrong with it. But they didn't come even close to it last night. This is an incredible 10 minute play about child protection. It's humorous and slap you in the face horrific. And the good folks last night seemed to have a lot of fun with it. And halfway through Mr Crimp's play I got how to start my new play Good World. So thanks Mr Crimp, thanks Welcome Strangers. I'll give you a credit some day.

Travelling North

I was watching In The Company of Actors last night, the documentary about the making of Hedda Gabler for the Sydney Theatre Company. And I have to say, that it was incredibly boring. I mean, I have been in enough productions to know that they are a hotbed of tantrums, exhaustion and more than a couple of erotic clinches behind the curtains. None of that with Cate and co. All they talked about was the artistic wonderfulness of theatre and how it was the highlight of their careers. Boring. Give me the struggle people. Show me the blood, sweat and tears. Give me a little drama!

Got 10 pages out on The Cleaning Station yesterday. Which was better than the five from the day before. But then did absolutely nothing else. Well, did Pilates and then did nothing else. Today, I'm going to try and write this until the end. It would be lovely to write The End today, even though I have to go back and rewrite some stuff. That would be a good feeling.

The long haul

So I started the writing of The Cleaning Station yesterday morning. I don't know if the writing is good or bad but the writing process was fucking awful. Talk about pulling teeth. Even with my handy plan next to me telling me where to go next, it was still akin to banging head against thick concrete wall. But I got five pages out and five pages is five pages and no one should be complaining about that. Even me.

I also worked out more of the short film I started around Christmas time about twins. Is there a filmmaker out there that wants to make a short film about twins? Oh yeah, they have to be identical or the whole story ain't going to work. Sorry about that. And it's not quite finished yet. So you'd have to hang on for a while. But I think it's going to be really cool. So all aspiring filmmakers should be getting ready to come and line up outside my door. Any time you're ready. I just put some coffee on.

I don't really feel like writing again today. Even though I know that I only have these few weeks to get some real work done. We had a HUGE family bombshell dropped last night by M's daughter and we're all kinda reeling. But this is the job right? Get it done no matter what else is happening. Even though this is really huge and is going to change absolutely everything. Well, we'll see what happens.

Terror and laughs

My movie day was great. Charlie Wilson's War is hilarious and proves yet again what I have thought for the longest time. Aaron Sorkin is a fucking genius. So are the Coen brothers. No Country for Old Men is terrifying. I mean, really terrifying. And I usually don't go all girly on violence. Bring it on I say. But this hits you in the face and never stops. And the ending is perfect. So all in all good good day.

Haven't managed to quite finish the plan for The Cleaning Station but it will definitely get done this morning. Got some good work done on it last night and also managed to write some prose in my new moleskin notebook which I got for my birthday. I like getting new notebooks for different projects. Actually I think I just like the idea of being able to start afresh. Clean paper, nothing crap written on it.

Anyway, The Cleaning Station gets done this morning because I'm going to start writing it tomorrow. And that's just the way that is going to go.

How to not write your way to writing

Things we do not to write.

1. Read about other people's successes and guilt myself into writing.
   
2. Can't write until the house, garden, neighbourhood, world is tidy.
   
3. Can't write until all the errands are done.
   
4. Can't write while next door neighbour is playing show tunes at hideous levels.
   
5. Can't write until pilates/legalised torture exercise is done.
   
6. Can't write until I'm clean.
   

Well, happy to report that I managed to do/avoid all of the above and still managed to get some writing done. I got about six pages of the new plan for The Cleaning Station done last night. And even though I haven't thought about it for a couple of days, it all came back to me and then some. I'm really starting to like it and all the characters are starting to find connections with each other.

I'm going to get some work done on it this morning and then I'm off to cheap movies on Monday. Going to see Charlie Wilson's War and No Country for Old Men and then it's back home and off to aqua aerobics and then hopefully get some more done. I would love to get it finished today but that may be a little over the top. I am trying to learn to be realistic – What? You mean I'm not a superhero? Damn you all. - so I'll just put the time in and see what we get.

What Happens Next

Well, the birthday celebrations were as great as I needed them to be. And the restaurant we went to last night was superb. Even if best friend and husband were an hour late. But now it's on to the business of writing.

I work temp jobs in order to supply funds to my writing addiction and I've managed to almost have enough money to get the month of February off. So I'm taking the month of February off. Now, I just have to get some writing done.

I have so many projects and so many opportunities I want to apply for, I tend to become lost in the miasma I create for myself. Or – and this is the one I do a lot – I try to do too many things at once or I try to set myself too many goals for any given period and then get all down on myself for not getting it all done.

But that's NOT what I'm going to do for the next month. I'm going to get things done. Specifically, I want to get work done on two projects. One is the play I'm writing with J, The Cleaning Station. I spent two days last week getting the plan down in note form so now I have to get the plan typed up and then write the next draft.

The second project is a full-length play called Good World. I've had this project in the back of my head and in scribbled notes for a very long time. Too long. So now it's time to get it written. Well, at least a first draft. I inadvertently did some work on it when I was writing my application to the Blue Mountain Center. So now I've got a clearer idea of the sort of play I'm writing. I'm not sure if I should just dive straight in to the first draft and figure everything out later or do some preliminary work. Mmm.

First things first is to get the plan of The Cleaning Station into some sort of workable document. That's the goal for the next couple of days.

A big YEAH for birthdays

Ah, and another February 2^nd rolls around. Birthday time for this dear, sweet writer hitting the grand old age of 31. Since I moved to Melbourne, I usually head back home to Brisvegas for my birthday but with the trip to Albury last week and a general need to just kick back and do not much at all, I decided to stay put this year. So I've just woken up and feeling quite eager to just go and do a bit of exploring in my little hometown, going to places I love but just don't get there enough in my normal life. Then it's off to dinner at an oyster bar with M and the best friend and her husband. So all in all looking like it might be a great day.

WOOHOO for birthdays!!!