|FatScribe Waterman Fountain Pen|
My gawd I love writing. I love it so much that it hurts. I wish I could do it professionally. (well, I do, sort of, but not like I'd like.)
I saw that my last post was from the most recent Ice Age, and it embarrassed me.
I was out having a nice dinner and drinks with colleagues in Seattle when I looked via my iPhone at FatScribe.com during a lull in the conversacione and saw my last post sort of frozen there in time, like some mosquito stuck in amber on the side of a tree, marking my last entry into the blogospheroid.
Blogospheroid ... it rings true to me. I'll coin it; why not? It's this dish-dome thingy that comes down on all of us unpaid writers who sweat out little nuggets of prosaic fun, polish a bit, then publish. All under a dome of aspirational writerly, creative effort.
It reminds me of the "cone of silence" that used to crack me up whilst watching "Get Smart" when I was 7 or 8 yrs old. It was this supposed cool, high-tech gadget that "Max" and "Chief" would pull down over themselves to have a top-secret conversation. And that's what we're doing here, Dear Reader. We're having pretty much a top-secret conversation because no one else is listening! It's just the two (or three or four) of us ... writing and reading each other's prose. Each other's poetry. Each other's patina of reality that sometimes reveals a great yarn or story about love, heartache, an awesome recipe, a fantastic photo, a phenomenal ensemble, or even a homespun bromide that never really gets past one's front porch.
Whatever, (whatev's, as our Brit cousins's kids are wont to exclaim) there was a spark somewhere deep down, like some intestinal discomfort that only an unlady-like belch or an actual blog post would relieve. I get that, feel that, and am bothered by that. But, there it is. The reality of the self-published, self-important, self-imposed shame of not having been actually published yet.
quick note: I was hip-pocketed by a junior-level agency d-bag whilst I was taking screenwriting classes at UCLA several years back right after my separation/divorce (healthy distraction), and during the same class had a story optioned by a producer for chump-change. I've also pitched to every studio, save for Paramount Pictures, several scripts and treatments over the years. I had one project at FremantleMedia go 3 meetings for a reality tv show that to this day I feel could still be a great project. ugh. but, it's all good.
So, yes. I love to write. But, not sure if writing loves John g. The muse, shea slapsa my face with embarrassment! But, she also drives me onward and upward at 2am when I'm supposed to be catching up on my sleep (so important for those of us recently on the wrong side of 40), I'm writing another treatment, or sharpening up a children's story. Some day. Some day.
By the way, I'm now the head of marketing for a legal company up in Seattle. I still live in Malibu Canyon, but fly there weekly. It's great fun, but lots of hours and work. I'm launching two new websites for this company, which is keeping me in high creative cotton. I write; I edit our outside attorneys who write for us; I create new products, and brand the hell out of all the IP we create, and draft all of our press releases and corporate responses. So, again, that's fun, but there's still a brass ring with my nom de plume on it in the form of a book, children's book, screenplay ... or at least another blog post. Gawd, I love writing.