Friday, February 3, 2017

Early mornings

It is 4 am.  Again and I am awake.  Again.  Normally, I try to write stories in my head.  Compose my next great opus and then once I fall asleep I vow to remember it when I wake in a few hours.  Then, 6 am rolls around and every line is gone.  I can't remember a thing.
This morning I recited the same sentence over and over.  Not in an attempt to remember it, but trying to move past it, create more of a story.  "Rooster!  Get the gun!"  That's it.  I try to imagine the rest of the story and can't see it.
This morning I finally decided to actually sit down and write what was going on in my head.  I chose to use my computer thinking it would be quicker.  Of course, this morning my computer chose to not work, so all the brilliance I wanted to write got lost in frustration of waiting for the internet to work and Chrome to begin responding.  Yes, I could've just written in my notebook, but my mind and ideas move much too quickly for my pen, I am much more nimble on the keys.  When I write on paper, I feel stifled by the ink, but on the computer my fingers have a mind of their own and it doesn't even feel like I am really writing.  My hands know what to type and all I have to do is read it.  I've never thought about it before, but as I read it, it seems like an absurd thing to say.
I am  still trying to figure out a writing routine.  I found a fabulous online program that helps you get writing.  I posted it in my Google calendar for a Monday start.   That was weeks, oh my, months ago. I can't recall what my original start date was, as by the time I reach Friday I realize I haven't written, so I move the start date to the following Monday.  This wouldn't be so bad if it was only a couple week class, but this is a 12-week program, had I started, I'd be done by now.
So consider this a writing exercise.  Gibberish.  Almost of stream of consciousness, but that would imply free flowing words, which this is not.  I edit as I go. Making correction and choosing the right words so the sentences will make sense.  The only thing that probably doesn't make sense is the whole objective of this post.
What was I saying?  I do go on sometimes, but eventually remember the question that I began with and then answer the query in a simple sentences instead of blathering this has become.
"Rooster! Get the gun!"  Who is this Rooster character and who is yelling?  Why is a gun needed?   After considering this as the first sentence for the play, I consider myself brilliant, but then come to the realization that it's all I've got.  I know who these characters are, but I don't yet know how they move in the world.  I know the overall story I would like to tell and for what purpose.  I know the venue that it is being written for, so of course my producer and director's hat are subconsciously guiding where and how these characters can move and when they can move.  But what I need now is the complete story.  A beginning, middle and end.  A conflict along with an epic lesson that must be learned.
Victory!  The mister has finally experienced my pain of missing items from move.  I can now go on with life.

Aloha bitches!