Cart, get behind that horse!

I decided that because I spent so much money on my college text books, it might be a good idea to actually read them. Luckily, I majored in film and not geology.

I'm about halfway through "Zen and the Art of Screenwriting" by William Froug and am wondering why I didn't read it back in 2003. I'm enjoying it quite a bit.

"Zen" has gotten me thinking (which I guess is the purpose of college textbooks) and hopefully soon will get me writing. But, it has had an unexpected result as well.

The book is basically information on writing intermixed with interviews with successful screenwriters. They discuss their trials and tribulations but also their Oscars and other accomplishments.

But back to the trials and tribulations.

A common challenge these screenwriters faced was having their words rewritten and rewritten and rewritten, losing their vision along the way.

Now, I haven't even written a screenplay I'd want to show to anyone. But that hasn't stopped me from panicking that it's going to be completely redone and changed from my creative voice. I caught myself feeling the screenwriter's pain and making it my own. "How could they do this to us?!"

And then I realized, "Oh wait, they didn't do that to me. I haven't even written anything yet!" But when I do and it's been changed from a sweet and witty rom com into a blood and guts action flick, I bet that nice Hollywood paycheck will soften the blow.

Face off

Thanks to company furloughs, this morning my alarm clock didn't wake me and I was able to sleep in until 6:30 a.m. Yes, that is sleeping in for me, and I was grateful for it.

After meeting coworkers for a delicious breakfast, I am now seated at the local coffee shop (yes, Copperopolis has one) and trying to make my day productive. There's so much I need to do, such as find a new job before my big move (any suggestions?), exercise (eh, let's be honest, probably won't) and write a blockbuster film (won't finish it today, but I can at least name the characters).

It's really nice to have a day off to get some things done, because I know the next few weeks are going to be extremely busy.

But, challenging my ability to get things done is, of course, the enemy: Facebook. "What's so and so doing right now?" I wonder. "I really need to leave Jane Doe a message." "Oh my gosh, look at John Smith's new baby!"

Facebook, why don't you want me to accomplish anything? Are you going to pay my bills? Go to the gym for me? Film my script? I'm pretty sure the answer is no.

So when I finally find where Facebook has moved the Sign Off button to, I exit immediatly. But Facebook knows as well as I do, I'll be back. Oh yes, I'll be back.

Oh my poor neglected little blog...

I hate to say this, but sometimes I have to remind myself, "Hey, Megan," I begin, "remember you love to write. So why don't you do it?"

"I know, I know," I respond to myself. "But what should I write about?"

"You'll think of something," I say.

"But what if it's terrible?"

"But what if it's not? What if it's something truly great and funny and will earn you acclaim and millions of dollars?"

"You're right! I better get to work!"

And then I proceed to stare at my computer for the next three hours, hammer out a few pages and call it a day. And then never work on that particular piece again. (I'm really glad the characters I create aren't real people because it would be like creating a head without finishing the body. I'd have all these bodiless people rolling around and who would really hate me.)

This process is repeated about every few months, and, as you can tell with the sparsity of my blogs as late, now is the time to start all over again. I'd like to say I'm back by popular demand, but really only two people have asked me about my lack of blogging.

I've been thinking as a writer, I'm a bit guarded. There are some things I'd like to write about in this blog, but then I realize, people will then know that about me. That I'm a person with thoughts and feelings?! The horror!

I know should make myself more vulnerable and will make that happen. However, expect it to be a slow and painful process.

Very slow, because this is all you're getting out of me for now.

The Twilight Zone

I spent my birthday and a few days more in Los Angeles with some good friends, all of whom happened to be obsessed with the vampire known as Edward Cullen.

As much as I fought and kicked and screamed and tried to get out of it, Friday night found me at Blockbuster to pick up the just-released DVD.

Racing home, my friends and I got comfy and thus began our journey into the Twilight Zone.

From what I could hear in between the squeals and "This is my favorite scene!" was just enough to pique my interest into where this tale leads.

Not so much that I want to read it, but just quiz whoever will tell me. And watch the following movies, which I trust will be of much higher quality.

The second viewing of "Twilight" on Saturday night had me further thinking, "I could write that," and wondering why I didn't.

I tried reading the book and found it so dull I couldn't finish it. It just wasn't something I could sink my teeth into (pun intended). But seeing that it's a national best seller and everyone I know can't put it down, maybe I don't have my fingers on the pulse of what's quality entertainment.

Instead of telling myself that I suck (ha!), I think I'll take it as a challenge. You're on Stephanie Meyer.

Slacker

So I started out this new blog with gusto and lately I've felt myself slowing down a bit. Writer's block? Maybe? Busy-ness? Possiblity. (I just realized I don't know how to spell busy-ness. I thought business, but that's business. Weird.) Ok, back to the point.

The point is acutally that I have no point. But I can't let another December day go by without writing a blog. (I just checked, the correct spelling is busyness. Phew! Now I can sleep tonight.)

So here I am. Writing about nothing. Hopefully you're still reading. People watched Seinfeld and that was a "show about nothing." So I trust you're still following along.

I've started three sentences so far in this blog with the word "So." I tried to think of another word that means the same thing, but "therefore," "however" and "anywho" just didn't seem like the write choice. So there you have it.

Wow, I am rambling quite a bit. I can't figure out if this is entertaining or just annoying. If it's the later, I apologize.

And then it hit me...

Maybe I should stop while I'm ahead.

So I will.

Welcome back to me!

After starting my blog 'Meg in Wales' two years ago and going on hiatus a year and a half ago, I'm happy to say I'm back! I can thank Christie for the encouragement, because after talking on the phone, catching up on life, love and memories, she said, "You should blog."

Since I like to follow directions, here I am. I'm not quite sure what the theme of my blog will be, but I've decided to call it, 'And then it hit me' because it sounds like either a punchline of a joke or the beginning of a profound thought, both of which I hope to write.

I must admit it feels great to put words together that don't begin with, "So and so died yesterday." If you don't know what I'm talking about, let me tell you: Most of my writing tends to be about the recently departed. Somebody's got to do it, right? I was thinking the other day, as I often do, and then it hit me that death is a pretty lucrative business to be in right now, given the current state of things, because just because someone is broke, doesn't mean he or she won't die. (Maybe not the most pleasant of thoughts, but hey, it's job security.)

I'm staring at my computer screen right now, trying to figure out a way to make a smooth transition onto a new topic. I'm not having much luck.

New topic.

Wigs. I really enjoy wearing wigs. A few years ago at this time of year, I searched high and low for a wig to compliment my flapper girl Halloween costume. My search wasn't going well, but Target, oh how I love Target, came through for me. Buried under smelly latex masks, tangled rainbow clown wigs and open tubes of makeup was the perfect black wig. So I bought it. And I must tell you, it made my costume.

I came home, put on the wig, my dress, fishnet stockings and shoes and threw on my 'Chicago' soundtrack and suddenly I was transformed. I was someone else. I was dancing, singing, twirling around the room with moves I didn't even know I had. My usually keyless voice was hitting each note with gusto, all because of the magical wig, I'm sure of it.

Until my roommate came home and instead of being a showstopping flapper from the 1920s I was embarrassed Megan of 2005.

But that wasn't the last my wig saw of the world. It was the star of a photo shoot with the talented Jen May (see photos below), traveled with me to Wales and I wore it proudly last Saturday night in Sacramento for Kirstin's birthday. 'Proudly' may be an overstatement because once I left the safety of the car and realized people would actually see me, I felt a little uncomfortable, but then I saw the guy dressed as the green Teletubbie and then it hit me...

It could be worse.