Writing Crisis

Annette, one of the store owners where I work (and I promise that someday I'll just assume you all know who I'm talking about and stop explaining), asked me what I thought of The Dark Knight. She has yet to see it, but was curious to hear my opinion. I spoke glowingly of it, of course, and then mentioned that I had reviewed it on my blog. She insisted on reading it, saying teasingly, "I shall decide whether or not to see it based on your review."

"So, no pressure then," I replied, pulling it up on the computer.

She read it while I hovered nervously, thinking "she's going to hate it, she'll think it's too unfocused, poorly written, and just a lot of fluff."

"I think you should be a movie critic," she said when she had finished.

I stood agape, having expected something more along the lines of, "Hmm, very nice" said in a patronizing way.

Why do I react that way? Why can't I just be proud of the things I create, and assume that other people will like them as much as I do? Remember in the survey, when it asked what I disliked most about myself and I said, "my insecurities"? Yeah.

Anyway, I pulled myself together, grinned and blushed uncontrollably, and said, "Gosh, really?"

"Yes, you are a great writer, and you clearly love movies. Also, you didn't give away the whole plot like a lot of critics do in their reviews. I hate that."

I shuffled my feet and ducked my head.

"Aw, thanks," I muttered.

"No, really, you should look into it. Especially since you said you have a hard time finishing things. Maybe you would have an easier time with short pieces."

Annette and I have discussed my love of writing a few times, and she has read a couple blog entries before and was very generous with praise.

"But," I protested, "I wouldn't even know where to begin! Don't you have to have a degree to be a critic?"

Annette thought for a moment. "I'm not sure. Phil and I are friends with a writer for the New York Times, A.O. Scott. He writes reviews. Maybe we could ask him how he got started and whether he has any advice."

Do I not have the coolest bosses ever? (I'll recount some of Deirdre's coolness later, because she is equally helpful and supportive.)

In the meantime, I'm in a quandary. Yeah, yeah: "So, what else is new?", right?

I would like to take some creative writing classes, and there's this school called the Gotham Writer's Workshop which has all sorts of classes for every type of writing you would ever need to know. To take the basic Creative Writing class, which they recommend for those who are just starting and want some basic foundations for writing, it would be one day per week for six weeks and cost $320. Ouch. I'm pretty poor, but coming up with that much cash wouldn't be impossible. I don't really spend a lot of money (except on comic books....and food...oh yeah, and rent) so I could justify this one-time expense, and if I ever want to take another class from them I would get a discount for being a returning student.

One class a week isn't all that time-consuming, though the work might put a dent into my nights, but, hey, if I'm going to be up late anyway, I might as well be getting something productive done, right?

"So," you say, "what's the problem?"

I just feel like I shouldn't be trying to split my attention in too many directions. I'm supposed to be focused on my acting career, and I can't even make myself go to an audition. What happens when I start having more legitimate excuses for not doing what I should be doing?

Then again, sometimes a full schedule can have the effect of propelling me into greater heights of motivation. I feel like so much of my time is being wasted simply because I don't have enough to fill up my days. When I was at AMDA I was getting tons more work done and I had less time to do it. That doesn't seem right.

Now, I have more time, and part of my brain is always conscious of that. I'm constantly thinking, I have lots of time to get that done, so I don't have to worry about it right now. I'll have time later...later....later........later. (Screen dissolves into psychedelic wavy lines until everything is blurry. We come into focus on Julia stretched out on her couch, staring blankly at the TV screen, remote in hand, jaw slack with a hint of drool. Her ass is bigger than the couch itself and they appear to have melded.)

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, I guess I'll sign up.

I don't know. What do you think? What should I do and why? Detailed answers, please.

Love,
Julia the Ass-Couch Slacker

And I think we've just found my stage name!

Next time on Blog:

I continue the discussion of dating in Prince Charming vs. The Beast: Round Two (look for Deirdre's contribution to my current Life Issues in this exciting post!)

Also, I was bored today so I thought up an idea for a comic book. More details coming soon!