Lance walks into his ‘physic’ therapist’s office and slumps down…
“Hello” too effusive psychotherapist says. “And how are WE today?” “Shitty,” I answer.
“Oh no!!” he says. “We can never feel ‘shitty’, as you say. WE are always ‘happy’.”
“Fuck you,” I say.
“Mister Marcom. WE do not talk this Way.”
“Fuck you Doc, I talk this way AND I am paying you so I CAN talk this way.”
“OK, why then are you “shitty” as you call it?”
Leaning back… wondering how long this court – ordered bullshit must go on, I decide to hit him with it:
“I am shitty ‘cause I have written some good shit on my blog and no one is reading it.”
“Please do go on.”
“Well… there is that one about Southpark”
“You mean J.R.’s ranch?”
“Do you have a degree, Doc?”
“Of course, right over there on the wall, see it?”
“What’s it in, your degree?”
“Yeah, guess that makes some sense; knew it wasn’t in Pop Culture, Pops.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Let us get back to your problem and away from my credentials, shall we? No one reads your ‘shit’, but why?”
“‘t-l-d-r’ in the vernacular.”
“Tee el dee r’? I’m afraid I do not understand your meaning here.”
“’Too Long; Didn’t Read’ Asshole.”
“Mister Marcom, I must implore you not to continue to abuse me with such language; I am merely attempting to help you here. Why is it too long? Do you hate your mother?”
“Well, it took days and days to write… And who ARE you? Do you even know what it is ‘to write’?”
“Let us focus on ‘your problem.’ shall we?”
“Doc, let us focus on yours: I don’t want to be here and THAT is YOUR problem. I just want folks to read my shit.”
“I cannot help you there, Son. Perhaps though if I may proffer a suggestion?”
“Sure. Fire away.”
“Write some better ‘shit’, as you call it.”
I was perusing my recent posts (Yes I do that, mostly to make sure I did not fail to comply, to reply to any and all comments—my ‘House’ Policy: ‘Reply, Upon Pain of Death, To All Comments’–That is how WE Roll.)
In some truth, I do this because I am just that vain.
Well now, with that little bit of TMI outta the way, Here is the pointless point to this ‘pre-post.’
“A ‘Pre-Post?’ some may ask.
“Yep. A Pre-Post.”
“Whatever could he mean?”
Often ideas for ‘posts’ come from music (duh).
As I was driving to the Beer / Copenhagen Store, my Favorite Radio Station (read: the only one whut is worth a shit here in this Elvis’ City of Music by the Mississippi), was playing this song:
I generally spend about ten minutes ‘writing a post’. Then three minutes waiting on ‘spell check’ to remind me that I cannot spell ‘cat.’ Then two minutes (except for the upload wait) to upload photos/videos.One minute at the ‘final’ look. Then: Click that ‘publish’ button.
Total time expended:
‘Bout 15 minutes.
Rinse and repeat the next day.This bothers me.Why?Because, as all of us (may) feel, we can write so much better.
Alas, I am lazy. I just want to get it out there… Catch the likes; catch the comments. Fuck the quality! “They” know what I mean… Don’t they? I mean, they read me! Not too much need for exposition, ya? ‘They git it, eh?’
Just some musings from an amusing wanna-be writer/blogger. Take with some grain of salt. (And Comment), if you are of a mind to, and have an opinion on the ‘writing/blogging’ process.
“I have never had an original thought; I don’t live in a vacuum.”
The subject matter of this post may well be somewhat dated and esoteric, but I do submit that it is ‘spot on’ for all my fellow writers out there… well if you are of a science fiction bent, or just want to write screenplays (The terms are not always mutually exclusive).
I am a fan of Dan O’Bannon. Some of you will not recognize the name. Here is a clue: “In Space No One Can Hear You Scream.”
Yep. The original “Alien” masterpiece. I have to drill down into the old memory cells to download my first experience watching “Alien.” I was still in the Sinai (SFM). It was 1979 and I was driving the R&R vehicle to Tel Aviv. My lone passenger that day was my good friend Bill Brown (and he was in fact, brown—i.e., he was a black gentleman. We had a leisurely four hours to kill, so I asked him, “Hey Brown,” (we had a propensity back then to use ‘last names’, just like one would expect in the Military,) “seen any good movies in TA lately?” (Bill Brown was married to a Filipina, not that that is relevant, but I often throw in some irrelevant shit)
“As a matter of fact,” he said. “I have.”
“I saw this movie, ‘Alien.’ Dude! You havta see it. It’s still playing. Check it out.”
“Yeah, but more than that.”
He then proceeded to tell me the entire story of the film (complete with ‘spoilers’—And thanks for that Bill Brown!)
His main interest was the black dude Parker. Whom he always referred to as ‘My Man.’ Understandably so, given the fact that back in the Seventies, not many black men had important roles, unless one is speaking of Blaxploitation Film.
Once we got to TA and I had checked my vehicle, I went out on the town determined to see this film. In Tel Aviv back then, one could actually smoke cigarettes in a movie theater and good thing that, as I do think I smoked an entire pack of Marlboros while glued to the screen.
My point in all of this is that I have, ever since, been fascinated with this movie. More fascinating now is how it was ‘birth’d’ and the writing process that got it to where it now resides in the annals of one of the greatest movies of all time.
Thanks to Dan O’Bannon.
Below is a link to his original screenplay. For all writers out here, it is worth a read, but only if you know the movie and how it changed the genre.
And of course if you are curious about how great, actually mediocre, (The dialog was too corny, much like mine) writing hits the stage. More important though, I do think, was the ‘idea’–revolutionary (almost) at the time.
Point is: It worked.
Who can say what will or will not go ‘viral’ anyhow…
Vid Link below that; do not confuse the two. (Some things are important to me, if you have bothered to come this far…)