It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom...
No, I'm kidding, this isn't a Dickens novel. Obviously!
I am currently working on a personal project that is challenging my skills and will power. My summer project is as fluid and ever changing as the ocean. With a spark of imagination, as subtle as gun fire, I got an idea for a screen-play. With the Oscar nominations already in mind and for that matter, won, I set about writing. Scene by scene my characters and story came to life. Judy Dench or Vanessa Redgrave, are either of you available for the role of an inspirational Granny? Also known as best friend number 1.
Then, a mind fart, nae, a spark of naive ambition. I would turn my screen-play into a book. Why? Because I can? Because I have the chutzpah a kin to that of John Cabot discovering North America in 1497? No. Because I said to myself, "this will be easy, I mean how hard can it be to write a book"? With a half finished screen-play my focus changed. I didn't "regroup" or consider the "implications" of leaving a project incomplete. I can hear all writers reading this, sigh with great disapproval. I do not apologise for my transgression. How else will I learn?
Anyway, the "book" project marches on and will be in your hands the year 3033, you are welcome in advance.
When sitting down to write, I consider the question, for minds or hearts? Over and over. Do I want to touch minds or hearts?
In this case I view minds to be the readers of my "book". I view hearts as those watching my "film". Please don't ask me why, I don't wish to offend you. Only kidding. I don't know why. What I do know is that my answer is always a simple one.
Yes!
YOU ARE READING
What to do?
NonfiksiTake a peak behind the curtain, cross the picket line, and step into the mind of a wannabe writer.