stress

*Head desk*

From a recent Facebook status update:

Coming out of four days of illness and launching myself into writing a story outline. Now my head hurts… I have all these ideas floating around me – some circling slowly, others zipping this way and that. Occasionally one idea hits another and they snap into place. Then a rogue asteroid of an idea hurtles into the orbit, smashing into my infant planet and sending bits and pieces flying in all directions. Ugh!

Right now I’m struggling. Yes, I have a lot on in my life at the moment. I’ve been unwell and I’ve had lots of other things on my plate. But overwhelmingly, I’ve just been plot-tied. I’m not sure I would call it writer’s block. Not really. I have ideas. They’re just not coming together yet.

That’s it. I just wanted to vent.

 

A New Direction

In one of life’s great twists, I have found myself accepted into the Advanced Diploma of Screenwriting program offered by RMIT. I applied perhaps a month ago, attended an interview last Thursday and received an offer later that evening.

Strangely enough, my emotional response has generally been one of anxiety rather than excitement. It is a part-time placement however my work circumstances are complicated at the moment. I need to work three days a week and due to circumstances that are out of my control, my hours have been reduced to one day a week. This doesn’t work for me financially so my options are to find another job or wait until February. It is then that I will find out if I’ll still have a job or whether I will be returned to working three days. Fingers crossed for the latter.

Assuming that I can find a solution to my work situation, I then have to concern myself with being able to afford the course. But let’s not dwell too closely to those darkened ponderings. I shall just have to make it work. Somehow.

In other news: Yesterday and I went and saw a cinema screening of the RSC’s Richard II. It was brilliant and I’m feeling called to write a completely separate blog about it. I will therefore refrain from pouring my thought out here at the end of this post – so until next time, I bid thee adieu.

Blank Canvas

Today I started off feeling rather inspired. Unfortunately as the day progressed and the pressures of my day job mounted, that inspiration simply drained away.

On one level it is fascinating how my creative mood can shift so suddenly. Just when I think I’m on a roll… BAM! …my mind is suddenly void of any exciting ideas. It’s an extremely mild form of temporary depression. For a little while, all of my ideas seem ridiculous. The colours fade. Those plot points, once so solid, now drip like water through my fingers, dissolving away to nothing.

They’ll come back. The certainty and excitement will return. But not tonight. No point in forcing it. I’m going to go to bed, pull out my iPad and watch Doctor Who.

Lost Pages

It was almost midnight when I made a discovery that made me throw things – then cry.

When I’m not able to use my computer I use an iPad app called “Pages” to write my stories. (Can you see already where I’m going with this?) Yesterday was one of those days when I had to create time in order to get anything done so I was using my iPad to write whenever I could. This was on the train mainly, but I also did about an hour’s work at home. I then decided to leave it for a while and make my husband watch Sherlock (the good one… i.e. the BBC one).

Before bed I decided to look over some of my work. Yep. My iPad had decided that the latest version of my work mustn’t have been good enough and replaced it with a version of my document that was A WEEK OLD!

After about two minutes of, “No. No! NOOO!” (imagine Donna Noble) I tore my glasses from my face and had to find the strength within me not the throw them across the room. I then raised my iPad and fought the same internal battle not to throw that as well. What happened next was a mad scramble to find something on my bedside table that wasn’t (a) breakable and (b) likely to break something else. Luckily I found an empty Nurofen bottle and pitched it as hard as I could out of my bedroom door.

Then I cried.

A short while later, after my husband had made me a cup of tea and offered to sleep on the couch, I discovered a copy of the document that I had emailed myself the previous day. It wasn’t everything but I was able to spend an hour and a half rewriting the parts I’d lost. It is astounding just how much I remembered in the end.

I went to bed at 2am.