apparently if you dont like the sensation of chewing on broken glass while standing on the precipice of a 90 story building you shouldnt write a screenplay. or a play. uh oh. arent plays the harder to write of the two? (please tell me no, since thats the direction my creative ship has been sailing in and theres no turning back now) . plays are all dialogue and little action. no cut scenes, time jumps, or cgi for the characters to hide behind. plays are subtle.. minute. well crafted. sentences must carry all the weight. lines must be sculpted right down to the word. then there’s the requisite pauses. the air in the room you have to build. the mood that should permeate. the lighting…all must be conveyed with skilled hand. (i guess in this way playwriting is like screenwriting.)
great plays require a whirlwind of elements coming together and dancing on the head of a pin with exact precision. they require moods to ebb and flow with natural cadence, and neck jerking countermovements to snap the viewer from any familiar lulls.
so if screenwriting is like being tasked to gnaw off your own arm with baby teeth…then its safe to say that writing a play is like adding an additional 5 km to mnt everest’s peak. after your lungs have filled with water. and youve run out of oxygen tanks.
dammit. iuts true. thats how i feel writing this thing.
i keep asking myself why did i feel the need to undertake this __venture of being a playwright. (keep the ad in a box for when play is done…) why do i have the endless yearn within to finish this. because the writing process ahs been so damned torturous.
i like to write though. dont i? sometimes i hav to check. yes. i think i do… i enjoy writing this blog. 90 percent of the time. but the play. i only enjoy writing that 20% of the time. its takes me 80% cruel effort to get the the goldmine of the 20%. but once im there the output feels like heaven.( cue the cure song). the 20% is so fulfilling for me its like taking a big hit of some drug ive never had…yeah. its that good and satisfying to know ive written great dialogue. but its just so damned hard to get to..why?
why does the other 80% blow?
but it must be waded through. the play must be done. despite the fact my dedication to the matter has waned. i became preoccupied with other things. did some art. and ive been especially distracted with my exciting new idea for a full length feature film starring two bad asschicks with grenade launchers and flame throwers. (insert handguns and pockets knives instead)
im moving on. moving back to the grind. the play grinder. the mind grinder. the meat grinder. the brain grinder..the organ grinder… would be great right now to have a little kapuchin with a red vest on and a miniature fez to help me get the play done. but odie will have to do. and he doesnt do vests.. :)