It’s a long path. Sometimes when I think about it, I feel like I’m in the middle of an ocean. Deep down, I know that there’s land out there, but I can see nothing but blue from horizon to horizon. But rather than let the current take me, I know that I have to swim. I have to swim because I have faith that I’ll find the island I’m looking for. And if I’m lucky, I’ll find out that that island is really a peninsula. Maybe that peninsula will be just one tiny part of a huge continent. And if I’m really, really lucky, I’ll find people there. People who speak my language and, therefore, understand me.
So I swam long and hard today in search of those people. In the six hours that I worked (before I went to the work that pays the bills, that is) I got a great deal done:
I sent my good friend Cedric Williams–a gifted writer, director, and architect–two of my completed scripts, hoping that he can help me dissect them to make them even better.
I took three more lessons of Aaron Sorkin’s master class.
Wrote a logline for a new feature screenplay idea.
Worked on developing an idea for a feature screenplay set in a dystopian future with a strong female lead (but it’s not Hunger Games, I swear!)
I created a blog. This blog. This blog that will be my journal and my chronicle.
I read the screenplay A Few Good Men.
The steps are so much clearer when you write them down. The ocean may be huge, but it still leaves a wake. It shows us how far we’ve gone and which direction we’re going. It’d be so easy to get lost out here, but I’ve got my eye on Polaris and an engine full of steam. Or a pot full of coffee. Which is the same thing.
Let’s see how far we get tomorrow.