Post Dated: May 28th, 2009
Today I read the most tedious screenplay of my life. And at no point during the process did I put the text down, walk into the kitchen, open the bottom drawer, and nail myself over the head with a rubber mallet. How did I achieve this feet you ask? I endured because, in my mind, I had to.
You see, this particular piece was given to me as a “work-in-progress” (which really means the author couldn’t figure it out the first time... which is fine, nobody’s perfect), an assignment for me to “save”. And I wanted so badly to save it. But as I read this manuscript I found myself completely baffled, for there was not a single original thought in the whole thing. As I sifted through the pages I found myself reminiscing about films I didn’t enjoy like A Farewell To Arms and The Notebook (no offense ladies).
And I regret to say I probably will not finish this particular assignment. It’s a challenge, that’s for sure. And lord knows I’d love to rise to any challenge. But I have made the decision in a most firm state of sanity... you see, writing should NEVER be a chore. Writing is creation and beauty and love. And when something like that becomes a chore, we have lost a piece of ourselves that would be most tedious to try and get back... almost as tedious as reading that script again. And if I worked on this script it would most decidedly become a chore. And I do not intend to lose that part of me. Not now, not ever.