Snag to peep ya my killer Chondrichthyes

If you're a newbie from Alex's blog, yo beatches, it's like way snag to peep ya! Dope, yo. Sorry, kidding. I don't really blog like that. Or talk like that. I read a blog once that employed some of that style. It was very distracting. I couldn't tell if the blogger was for realsies. Yeah. I'm about as hip as JD Scrubs.

Moving on...

I'm still working with Ellen Sandler and actually doing the exercises and everything like the good non-sinning girl I really am. My pilot is taking shape. In my head at least.

But I've hit the same wall I always hit when trying to break a story. Just as I'm about to sit down and really work out the beats, I start second-guessing my story. I fall into the trap of being just really not sure if this is the right story to tell, or if the way it pans out is the right way, or if I couldn't make it much more exciting with the addition of some top-hat wearing assassin sharks or something. Um, okay, probably not. But maybe? Uh, what do you think? Assassin sharks? It could work, right?

Where's my room full of writers when I need them?

I can't believe I've never really looked at Jill Golick's blog, Running With My Eyes Closed before. Maybe it's because I've never written a pilot before. Makes sense. You shouldn't run with your eyes closed. Unless you're somewhere really really soft. If you're writing a pilot, her discussion of what makes pilots tick really gets you thinking.

Warning. Thinking can be hazardous to productivity.

Things that are clogging my arteries
I'm totally over my Slacker Excuses segment and it doesn't look like I'm getting out to the strike this week (I'll buy extra Pencils to make up for it), so I've decided to start a new segment. I considered calling it Things That Are Making Me Fat, but I didn't want people to start thinking I was packing on the pounds Britney style (or is that a new baby?), so I chose to put the emphasis on health instead.

Yeah, so anyway. Clogged arteries.

Cold Stone Creamery. Love It size, Founder's Favorite flavor. The creamery is reasonably new to me. We don't have such a thing in Canada (it's too cold there. we don't eat ice cream. in our igloos). But I'm pretty hooked now. Thing is, totally expensive. Usually when we go there, we just make up our own flavors, but I had a coupon (2-4-1) for one of their standard combos. Hence, Founder's Favorite - now my favorite, too. There's still some in the freezer.

David Gilmour wuz here

I just hit the wall. No wait. That's a total lie. I hit the wall, like, three days ago, and I've been just running at it and bashing my head into it repeatedly ever since.

C'mon, you know this wall. It's that big ugly mother, dismal grey breezeblock. About thirty feet high and kinda scuzzy. Right next to the kilroy wuz here graffiti is a message for me, in ALL CAPS. And it goes something like this:

"You are the worst writer in the world ever and your current script stinks worse than those skunks that hang around your neighborhood at night. Why are you even trying? You should go find another job at once. Something menial. That doesn't require an ounce of creativity. You could start by cleaning this wall for one."

Hmph. Stupid wall. Like I said, it's been three days, and my head is all bloody and smashed to bits (metaphorically, c'mon I'm not that screwed up) and the wall still stands. Is it growing? I think it's growing.

Slacker excuses
There is no excuse for me this week.