Sleepless again. It's been like this the last 2 weeks. This is the week we finish the script, but The Maestro and I didn't write all of last, as if we wanted to delay the end. Inertia. Coupled with the fact that as soon as we sign off, it's pretty much out of our hands, and subject to market forces, the realities of which have very little to do with logic, and reason. Six months. No, seven months. We've spent the better part of a year on this. And it's such a house of cards. I realized I was tearing my hair last week. Afraid of the consequences, I grabbed a buzzer, ran to the bathroom and buzzed most of it off, leaving around an inch of carpet. I stared at the dark curls in my sink and on the tiles. There were sprays of salt everywhere—I'm prematurely graying at 33—a souvenir from something I had to beat some time ago.
We are the true whores; those of us who, with alacrity, subject the children of our imagination to the eaters of souls who, with sharpened fangs, decide in 15 minutes if they'll simply trash all 120 of your finely-formatted, twelve-point sized, Courier New filled pages, or write you a check that will blow your mind to Jesus and have you believing you've struck the big time until you see the check they write the actor who'll be forgetting your lines. And those of us who hate it but do it anyway... well, we're probably worse.
But it turns out trips to the Lexus, Jaguar and Mercedes Benz websites help a lot with that sort of pain. Even if it's just window-shopping. Even if I'll probably just end up getting a Toyota, or a Nissan, or something less than 30 thou when I finally retire my coupe with over 100k on the clock. Shopping's obviously an effective anti-depressant for men as well; we just buy different shit. As for the rest of it, trying to figure or find out what counts for a few savvy investments in this economic climate is probably good for me.
I want to go on and say more, but it's 5.20 am, and I think I might finally be able to sleep now.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
10 comments:
I'd like to wish you luck, but don't want to jinx things, but 'break a leg' doesn't sound right either!
"hmm..." she says, stroking her non-existent beard. "methinks he is once again in need of coddling and sex. R&R as reward for writing The End."
it's lovely to see your newly buzzed head poke up. welcome back.
I'm not sure if I should say happy shopping or not. Like janeway, I do not wish to jinx your luck.
ah, you're all so nice. thank you.
i feel so close to all of you right now.
Hmmmm. I have a good feeling about it. I think things are going to go well for you.
At least it wasn't 4am....
http://blog.ted.com/spoken_word/
I guess it's a bit like when you push your children out into the big wide world. You dont want them to go and you know they'll come back with other people's influence marking them but you just have to let go and see what happens...
Fingers crossed for you x
I am amazed and entralled at the (to me) unknown undercurrent of literary talen that infests this genre... either that ot debuchette just has great taste. Please accept me as another fan of yours.
That's so nice of all of you. Thank you. I know I don't blog enough.
Blaine, Debauchette's terrific and amazing and is a huge source of inspiration to me. I'm glad you dropped in.
-winces- at description of encounter with woman in the Acura with the lights off. I've had that sort of erm misunderstanding, and yeah, that probably would be my first thought. And yeah, I'd probably keep on driving with the lights off because, don't want to engage with weird guys honking at me and making gestures, why won't they stop doing that?! ...oh. oops. goddam Patriarchy. or um something.
Post a Comment