EuRomerican

I've been writing a great deal lately, in many formats, in several languages.

And... I kinda of loved the results!

That has never happened before.

A funny and less expected side effect of that was to realize that the marketing of my scripts is truly secondary to me. First and foremost, I wanted my screenplays to please... my own ridiculously pretentious self. And these days I have been considerably appeased by my own writing. As in: MADE HAPPY!

"Ew, pointless and narcissistic!" some of you are sure to comment.

Well, you know what? I embrace that attitude! And it's more common than you think.

I've been reading a bunch of interviews with famous directors and they are all like, "Hey, make the movies YOU are going to like, forget everything else!". If directors can spend millions to indulge that streak, why can't I write scripts for my own egotistical pleasure? Why should I bend over backwards trying to turn my script into some credible "business plan" the studios are going to buy into? And then turn that over to directors who think, "Hey, why don't I seriously twist this screenplay, make sure I'm making a movie I am going to like, forget the pesky scribe!" Why should I select ideas that are sure to open doors? That I'm positive will be bought? Hell, no! Maybe I'll HAPPEN to work on one of those, if the interests of millions of viewers as perceived by a bunch of executives in Hollywood/elsewhere ever coincided with my own. There! I'm very European these days.

No, I'm not. Actually, I build the stories RIGHT. As if Hollywood wanted them. See? European content, American form.

That's who I am, after all.

So... I MIGHT decide to share my scripts if I find the right director(s).

But the pleasure of turning stories and characters out of one's mind, the pleasure of writing lines that make sense (as in "create" sense, or at least build it anew), that cohere into a separate, credible, illuminating world of one's own creation, that has been mine for a while. It is exquisite and I hope I'll go on enjoying it.

And if it somehow disappears again... by some twist of my whimsical psyche... no big deal. You know what I consider a big deal? For instance, the cherries ripening right outside my window as I type this. Or the roses that have crept up the wall and now try to peek inside, luring the self-absorbed scribe. All that red color, all that perfume and all that sweetness were seeped out of the earth in a few spectacular days by a relentless sun!

Were you paying attention? I hope you do avert your eyes often from those monitors, at least now that spring is committing magic everywhere!

What else...

The Japan/China combo: ditched in favor of a yet unknown destination, something closer and more relaxing, as vacation time got shortened by another emergency. On the upside: next week I'll be in Prague. And I must be in Bucharest for two weeks in June.

Christopher Lockhart has given up on blogging... I have this hunch that he's going to write a book instead. But that's just me (trying to remotely control his mind, shamelessly and anonymously...)

Actually, everybody seems to be blogging less, living more. Great!