grasping at straws

[mystery_sock]

Thanks to a sudden violent upswing in the amount of work I have to do at work (gee, imagine that) and the fact that suddenly there are a million things to do outside of work, my writing output has been severely curtailed.

At the moment I'm not writing anything. No sir, I don't like it. But hmmm... am I not writing because I'm depressed, or am I

Comments

[mystery_sock]

I don't know what "grown up" is supposed to be like. I'm generally not doing it, whatever it is (and I'm a long time out of college

[mystery_sock]

I am doing slightly better than yesterday, and better than I was earlier this morning. Last night I went out and had drink-and-dinner with an old friend who I see maybe once a year, and she encouraged me to take the trip I want to do to New York soon, and try to get some scriptwriting lessons from a friend of mine who lives there, and who very much wants me to learn from him... everyone has always asked me if I was going to adapt my first published novel for the screen, and I'd love to see it done, but I really, really don't want some other screenwriter to try to adapt it. They'd get the tone and emphasis all wrong. That book is nothing but a series of snappy quips and sex scenes, interspersed with dreamlike scenes of violence, so yeah, it would make a good movie (and yet, a terrible comic book