Tuesday, April 26, 2011

The Devil and Jason Bateman Show


One of the most difficult things for me to do is daydream without judgment. I walk a lot and I use that time to let it all hang out..inside my skull. If I think about being a rock star or a superhero or I wonder how best to rearrange my shirt drawer, I just let it go. But there is a review panel in there, a Statler and Waldorf critiquing the thoughts and WHY I am thinking them. As if thinking of something else would be a better use of my time.

I’m here to tell you, that’s just not true. That part of my brain is fear in disguise. It’s that three seconds before you jump into a cold morning pool, or the frustration before a first kiss. It’s your eyes looking upward, searching for a creative answer. Inspiration for the next great creative idea or for a money making endeavor can come from anywhere; including when you are analyzing Jimmy Fallon or Philly cheesesteaks. No one knows how it works..

My brain has some serious foolishness to get done. I need to leave it alone.


Tuesday, April 5, 2011

The Plungers And Wrong Guys Show


I've been writing characters and scenes for practice. It's rough right now. I'm pretty rusty. Here's a sample:

' Beach sand settles into everywhere. It finds cracks in your body only a medical examiner knows about. The abrasive is always worse then it sounds; one has to factor in the tenderness of the skin after a few exposed hours of solar radiation on a seemingly beautiful day. No matter what SPF you've spread over yourself in hopes of cheating nature and the sun’s right to fry whomever it sees fit, the gritty sand will be a reminder of why we create enclosed homes with carpeted floors and central air.

John found a public outdoor shower in front of the Quality Inn. There was no chance for his feet to be cleaned, but the rest of his body wriggled under the lukewarm shower of city water. He tried not to inhale while dozens of summer vacationing teens cackled above him in the hotel pool. They didn’t need the shower. Pool rules dictated one before entering but John never bothered when he had the chance. There was nothing like the first splash into the deep end. The world instantly shut up for a few moments. John could be detached from the earth. Hands and feet would touch nothing as he bobbed underwater, like a hunk of pineapple in your grandmother’s Jell-O dessert. All the weight lifted from his back and every grain of sand rinsed away.

But the dripping shower dousing him with ass-water would have to do.'

Write what you know.