I want to say something about writers in films. I do, because I almost flung my computer at the wall when one such author popped up in a film trailer a few minutes ago; and I remembered all the others.
Writers in films. They sit in their rooms - always a classy mess of manuscripts, crumpled drafts in bins, cups of tea, and always that beautiful, gauzy light streaming through the window. The type for about five seconds, looking serious. A dreamy glance out the window, a bite out of an apple, then back to typing furiously... until a smile tugs at the corners of their mouths. The light turns golden, the music is turned up and we know they're onto something glorious.
In the next shot they're signing books.
In the meantime, I write and drink coffee and write some more and the light outside my window stays the same for a very long time, and then goes dark. I have moments of passion and joy, I have moments when I don't recall the names of my characters. I don't remember words. I'm not sure about words I use every day. I'm not even sure I can write in English.
I love my story, it's what keeps me here. On occasion I love paragraphs I write, or metaphors, half-lines. When I re-read I find them worthless and pathetic, you know, a bit like those creeps you fancied at school, and made a complete fool of yourself for, until one random day you saw them for what they were. The horrid finality of that moment - the end of a beautiful delusion; I have that feeling about a hundred times every day.
So no more movies with writers. Just get up every day and kill your darlings.
Writers in films. They sit in their rooms - always a classy mess of manuscripts, crumpled drafts in bins, cups of tea, and always that beautiful, gauzy light streaming through the window. The type for about five seconds, looking serious. A dreamy glance out the window, a bite out of an apple, then back to typing furiously... until a smile tugs at the corners of their mouths. The light turns golden, the music is turned up and we know they're onto something glorious.
In the next shot they're signing books.
In the meantime, I write and drink coffee and write some more and the light outside my window stays the same for a very long time, and then goes dark. I have moments of passion and joy, I have moments when I don't recall the names of my characters. I don't remember words. I'm not sure about words I use every day. I'm not even sure I can write in English.
I love my story, it's what keeps me here. On occasion I love paragraphs I write, or metaphors, half-lines. When I re-read I find them worthless and pathetic, you know, a bit like those creeps you fancied at school, and made a complete fool of yourself for, until one random day you saw them for what they were. The horrid finality of that moment - the end of a beautiful delusion; I have that feeling about a hundred times every day.
So no more movies with writers. Just get up every day and kill your darlings.
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