The Manuscript

They aren’t called sh*tty first drafts for nothing. The writing process, it ain’t easy. At least for me, the daily quest to express myself frequently feels like a muddy slough through a morass of ideas that seem so stellar, only to note their fall into a pit of snakes and swampy doubts. For the past—has it been four years?—I have been attempting to write a play. Not just a simple play but a typical-Tory, epic attempt at a play. And I am not a playwright, so this has been my 10,000 word experiment.

AND

My truly awful and I-haven’t-earned-that-ending play is “Done”. I printed it out—the morning we left on this two-and-a-half-week driving/training trip to a wedding in Half Moon Bay, California and back. The ideas past, present, and yet-to-be-had will percolate. Maybe even integrate. And still more to learn, to figure out what I am trying to say, and how to say it.

Did you hear it? A happy(-ish) sigh. Creativity: the hell and the beauty of this process called Art.