So earlier this week I began working on the essay I had wanted to work on since residency. I mean, I was all fired up over this thing. It was about the intersection of montage theory in film and elison in graphic novel panels and how it applies to writing and…
Okay, so when I got back from rez and found the book I discovered that I remembered it sort of wrong. There was the example of building scene details and guiding the reader/viewer, and that was still good and usable, but it wasn’t all I thought it was. Okay, so my memory was 18 years stale and there’s a lot I’ve probably fogotten since then. So sue me.
But, hey, I can work with this. I can talk about recombining the narrative and the rule of three in building details and all that. But it wasn’t coming easy so I set it aside to work on my second essay. That took me three days to wrangle, but I’m at a point where I feel I can make my points. All I need to do now is edit it down. I always overwrite these damn things. I can make these ten pages into a solid seven. Six on a good day.
Today was not a good day. Nothing to do with that second essay, oh no, today I decided to go back to the first essay and start tightening up those quotes and…
Damn! Where’s the book?
Yup, since I last had that book in my hand I’ve been able to unload four dozen boxes of books into our new shelving system. The shelves look great, and all the kidlit is going to be in one place and organized by genre/age groups and…
Where’s that book!
It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay. I can do this. I’ve done this before. My entire creative life has been about adapting. There was that film, my senior project, where we ran out of film with only 40% of the script shot. I worked around it. That time I made a giant bee for a theatre marquee using Fed-Ex mailing tubes, papier mache, and chicken wire. Yeah, that worked. That end-o-year wrap-up show for the film review program where I couldn’t transfer the mix and wound up editing eight hours of tape with a raxor blade over the course of three straight days. Uh huh.
I’m going to have to write a different essay. I’m going to have to dip into the well and pull something else out of nowhere. I can do this. Three days? No sweat.
I’m good.
Really.
Just.
Seriously.
