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ON THE THROES OF WRITING

04 September 2010

With quite some terror have I been letting my finished, first draft screenplay alone for the past few weeks. It’s important, you see, to let it rest for a while, to allow your mind to wander away from it and forget, so you’ll be able to look at it with a fresh mind.

The movie I’m writing, hopefully in all respects strikingly reminiscent in tone and form to a book which will remain undisclosed for now, has been in the works for about nine months now (images of pregnancy offer about the level of vexation to be experienced around such projects). Is the script any good? Will it hold? Having written it with the utmost care, I can only say that I don’t have a fucking clue. The whole thing washes over me with a feeling of complete and utter panic. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Okay --calm, calm. It’s all going to work out. You started this whole business, so now the only thing to do is to finish it. You’ve jumped through impossible hoops already (Hollywood internship, business trips to London and Utrecht), the rest will come by itself. But darn it, if this isn’t scary!

Tomorrow, on the stalest day of the week, being that most despicable Sun-day, a friend is coming over to crunch the screenplay. I’ve given him instructions to be ruthless, and I expect tongs and thumbscrews and the tools of many kinds of torture to be stuffed in his briefcase like so many careless socks. When he arrives the doors will close and either a glorious, golden phoenix will emerge from the room, or a new kind of pain altogether.

Let’s find out!

Roderick