I am.
Really.
There I am complaining about not having time to write. Poor me. Whining to beat any number of bands. Like a nancyboy.
So then Friday night rolls around. Son goes to sleep at 7:30. Wife goes to sleep at 8. Daughter's out with friends.
Perfect time to write. Right? Bang out a lot of those revisions to D Line I’ve been planning. Git ‘er dun.
But nooooo.
Instead, I recall that the Red Sox are playing the Orioles, and since MASN carries all Orioles games, I realize I have a rare opportunity to watch my beloved Sox.
So I do. Instead of writing.
And they lose.
How's that for fitting metaphor?
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Making his way writing and producing for tv and film...
About Me
Links
- The Duluonzo Notes
- Maddrey Misc.
- Words Blown Into Shapes
- Bring Out The Gimp
- Amanda the Aspiring TV Writer
- Shouting Into The Wind
- Could You Describe The Ruckus?
- Writing from the Wild
- Bluestocking LA
- ScriptShadow
- Sara In Vermont
- Kung Fu Monkey
- A Bucket of Love
- Kid Sis in Hollywood
- Deep Structure
- Write to Done
- Alligators In A Helicopter
- Jane In Progress
- The Moviequill
- A Web Of Lies And Deceit
1 comment:
"Anything but writing." That's my mantra. Then I start thinking, "How can I really be a writer when I never write?" And that scares me, so I crack the whip a little and write a scene and feel good about myself for a month.
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