the horrible urge to write a detective mystery novel for broadchurch with a romantic side-plot for ellie and alec to finally bone but also a gripping murder case mystery the readers can piece along as they read like an agatha christie experience
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the horrible urge to write a detective mystery novel for broadchurch with a romantic side-plot for ellie and alec to finally bone but also a gripping murder case mystery the readers can piece along as they read like an agatha christie experience
In Pencil head we trust
The creative pain
Esto de escribir todos los días está difícil.
Y eso que me considero rápida. He logrado escribir pilotos de entre cincuenta y sesenta páginas en tres días. Y hablo de pilotos que han quedado seleccionados en algún concurso o competencia, con lo cual habrán sido al menos guiones decentes.
Por esta “rapidez” cuando me propuse escribir cinco páginas diarias pensé que sería pan comido.
Nada más alejado de la realidad.
Escribir pocas páginas todos los días es más difícil porque no todos los días estás “inspirado”.
Podríamos decir entonces que: es más fácil escribir muchas páginas un día que pocas páginas todos los días.
Pero al igual que en el gimnasio: hacer mucho ejercicio un solo día no sirve de nada. Lo que cuenta es un poco cada día todos los días. Y aunque no creo en la inspiración, sí he notado que hay días que la verdad, ni ganas. Pero esto es un trabajo y hay que tomarlo como tal. Seguro que en el curro también hay días que no te apetece, pero tienes que trabajar igual.
Para ser guionistas necesitas "horas culo". Horas de tu culo, en la silla, escribiendo.
I've been cleaning out and sorting today and going though old notebooks. I'm one of those writers whose creativity only flows when I have a pen and spiral bound paper in front of me.
Looking at my old, unpublished writing, I came up with one thought. "I used to be good at this." I could write for hours; sometimes going without sleep.
I miss it. So much!
I hope I can get my muse back, but I think she may have left me for another; or at least is in a coma.
I'll keep rereading my old stuff and maybe she'll wake up.
Create
Fireworks for the mind
Creative Pain pattern
I'm paraphrasing sunsets again Subtle light at play, touching my skin plagiarizing all of the birds flying around In their last minute quests, before the night comes I never cared much about this sort of thing it was always you, that looked for meaning Since you've been gone I sit here each evening with these sunsets Wondering where you are Wondering if the sun would wait for me