Trapped in a wooden box

Today I’m mostly reclining in my parents’ ‘summer house’ which more resembles a shed than a residence, but I’m not gonna complain. And by ‘reclining’ I of course mean ‘lying on a 15-year-old dog-eared couch that used to take up space in my bedroom’, naturally.

Long overdue emails (regarding gestating film projects and people giving me free stuff) have been sent and I’m feeling oddly productive, despite not having done either of the things I’m supposed to be making myself do, one of which is getting to at least page five of my part of a new feature collaboration with a couple of people (I’m currently at one-and-a-half).

Unfortunately I’m getting nowhere fast with that one as I have it on good authority that I’m the only one who’s actually started scripting his section properly (it’s a whole three-pronged intertwining-stories type deal) and it feels a little like being the first one out of the space shuttle with only a particularly flimsy and untrustworthy bit of rope between you and safety.

The other one is probably the one that’s going to take precedence, being that it actually exists on the physical plane and is currently leering at me from the corner of the room. It’s a hefty sheaf of paper that comprises the entire first draft of this other screenplay – all 148 pages – that, despite having finished over a month ago I have yet to actually read or start tearing to bits and seeing what new accessories and makeup I can throw at it to make the damn thing look a bit healthier. It’s called Scars, which might be more fitting once I’ve taken it apart and put it back together again.

I had some excellent feedback from a friend a while back that made me realise I could lose about 50 pages quite comfortably, but I’ve since come to the realisation that once I start reading I might not want to out of sheer nostalgic stubbornness. However, I do have something of a fetish for putting giant crosses through things and making corrections with a pen so my ego will probably give in soon enough.

Strangely enough, I’m not feeling as productive any more. Blogging about nothing in particular will do that to you, I suppose.

Oh, and tonight I’m planning to watch ’70s B-movie classics Blacula and The Thing With Two Heads. I expect to have lots of fun.

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