Vindication.

Working on a script for months, it's easy to lose sight of what you were setting out to do in the first place. You start out with that fantastic feeling in your stomach, a combination of nerves and loving the spark that your idea is giving you. And then you get down to it. Progression. And, as with any creative exercise, problems arise. And you endeavour to fix those problems. And so it goes on. Until you reach a point where you feel that this script will sit unfinished for weeks. Maybe months. And the danger of things becoming a slog can creep in. And you trudge on until it's done.

And then you read it and all the blood drains from your face.

After some alcohol (but never immediately after - danger danger!), the rewrite begins. Irritance at problems staring you in the face. Going back to notes. Wondering if it'll ever be what you want it to be. And you finish it, to the best of your abilities at that given time.

And it's become something else. And you've lost sight of that wonderful feeling the idea gave you when you started out.

Until you let someone read it. Just for an opinion. Not a script expert, but you trust their word. Is it any good? Would it make a good movie? How shit is it? Presuming that everyone else can see all of the glaring errors and bad plasterwork over those initial cracks. The reply comes. You shut your eyes tight before you open it.

And then, for a little while at least, vindication hits you. It's worth it after all. Someone else saw what you were aiming for when you started out, and confidence returns. It's not shit. They like it. A lot.

And all is right with the world.

Ah.

Time for a beer, methinks.

Personal Gremlins

The little things in life. They can make-a-da world go 'round. Every day is made up of tiny little moments that move us forward. Or not, as the case may be. Sometimes we move forward despite some of the other little things. Sometimes they cause mayhem with our progress, either irritating us when we should know better and sometimes preventing us from proceeding catastrophically. As is usual with me, it's the former. One of those things I ought not to get annoyed about and keep reminding myself that a calm mind can win the day whereas shouting at inanimate objects only raises blood pressure, harms the voice, scares the dogs and bewilders the neighbours.

Like a particularly persistent little bugbear which is rearing it's head as I finish my a revision of my present writing project. I suppose you could call this a personal gremlin.

As I'm typing up my screenplay, heading towards that first finish line (for there shall be many more with this script, hopefully), every time I type the word "look" I look up and see that I have typed the word (or non-word) "lok" instead (I actually just did writing that sentence!). No matter how mindful I try to be about making sure I hit that "L" button twice, it always happens. An irritant and one that can be dealt with without getting that annoyed (I tell myself). Yes, your friendly, neighbourhood spell-checker deals with these things as swiftly as an edit in a Michael Bay film.

Yes, modern technology is wonderful, but still has to contend with the non-logistics of human nature. You see, another manifestation of this personal gremlin is the word "from". Or is that "form"? Because that's what I seem to type all of the time when I mean "from". And you friendly neighbourhood spell-checker has no trouble with this either. Which is what gives me trouble. Because this persistent irritance is not a non-word, like "lok". It is indeed a word, with it's own meanings which can change a sentence. And my script writing software has now grammar checker (that I can see anyway) Yes, I know of the value of proof reading one's own work but dammit, do I have to proof read as I type? It's just that it happens so bloody often.

Look! Lok! From! Form! Aaaaargh!!!!

So, now is the time to remind myself that this is an example of one of those little things which I ought to know better about. A personal gremlin that can be flung out into the daylight to melt in a puddle of green goo by merely calming down and dealing with the little things which constitute the day.

And that concludes our Vent for the Day.