Yesterday, as I worked on a screenplay re-write, the most (and probably best) writing I accomplished was to delete an entire scene. Only this slug-line remained…
INT. RESTAURANT -- EVENING
My mind went blank. I had nothing.
I stared at the empty space. No ideas. I felt twinges of panic.
What do I do with this scene? Do I really need this scene? Inadequacy washed over me.
Maybe I don't have what it takes.
Time to procrastinate that section of re-write.
Soak in the tub and think about it, I told myself…
tomorrow. I was onto something.
Sounds good. I answered.
Maybe check Facebook now.
Ah. Social network distractions. I scanned down the status updates, pausing longest to adore some pictures of my grandchildren, then my eye fell on a post regarding the Oscars.
Oh yeah! I had forgotten all about recording the Academy Awards.
Screenplay gleefully abandoned, I scampered, that's right… scampered, to the television and DVR. I rationalized that I wasn't procrastinating, I was putting my finger on the pulse of the industry, right?
So, for me, the funniest moment of the Academy Awards was when Robert De Niro introduced the best screenplay nominees:
The mind of a writer can be a truly terrifying thing. Isolated, neurotic, caffeine-addled, crippled by procrastination and consumed by feelings of panic, self-loathing and soul-crushing inadequacy. And that's on a good day.
That was laugh-out-loud painfully true!
And I agree with his co-presenter, Penelope Cruz:
Yes, but if everything goes well, in the end there is a screenplay.