Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Fumbling for a fourth draft...

Tickling the script. Picking it up. Putting it down. Thinking. A lot of thinking. This stage isn't so much writing as re-arranging. If I was getting a report about my current performance it would say "Dave is easily distracted". Facebook, blogger, the odd stroll into Second Life when processor speed and wi-fi broadband connection allow. I finally wrote something in my Christmas-presented Moleskine today - not a pocket-sized Moleskine, the slightly less practical almost A5 model that screams "fill me with important things". At the top of the first page I wrote We are all starting to unravel. They are not my words but a springboard to a book full of potentially pretentious worthiness. I tend to write via typing, usually, after scrawling out loads of notes, but I thought I'd attempt to write something in longhand in this book. It looks like it needs filling with something.
So, here I am 'writing' again. It's a position of privilege, writing for a (kind of, almost, oh no, another bill has landed on the doormat) living. And with privilege comes responsibility. Which is, much more than assembling words and sentences and dredging stuff up from all corners of the mind, heart and soul, the hard part, the real burden, the utter headache, the life-sucking menace. Still, it is a privilege. Thousands, nay millions, of people would like to get paid to write. I am one of the lucky ones.

No comments: