All right, I'm officially going bonkers, and so is Lisa. Holidays are great but after a week, I pass my sell-by. I imagine it would be different if it were a tour of ancient sites of the West Country, but just "taking it easy," well, give me my work day back! I miss it. I'm looking forward to January 3: day care, my desk, my Aeron chair, the ability to call people at their offices.
As I was remarking to Paul Guyot the other day, I don't actually have a work ethic or anything so grand as discipline. I have an addiction. If I'm not writing, I'm as edgy as a guy in opiate withdrawal. (Which, technically, I also am, sincing I'm cutting down on the pain patch.)
It would also be nice if I could get to my osteopath to discuss the pinched nerve that's making q, a, z, w and s a bit awkward to hit.
Right. Lisa has kindly taken the Pikapie to the children's library, and Hunter is buried in cartoons, so I'm going to see What to Write Next. I've sent two pitches to DC Comics, which ought to be enough to see if I'm barking up the right tree. Still waiting, of course, on the network for approval on ep. 2 of Exposure
. That puts me back in "what the hell to write next?" mode. I have two largish budget feature specs to work on -- one's a treatment that needs to become a script, one's a script that needs another pass. Neither is realistic for the Canadian market, which means I'll either need to convince my Toronto agents to take them to LA, or find someone in LA who's interested in repping me outside of Quebec. Or, I can ransack my archives of script ideas and see if anything in them is worth writing up. Or I could try to come up with a budget-appropriate pitch; but writing out of market analysis has never worked for me. Or, bash my head against that occult series pitch and see if I can crack the template; but I think I need another brain, or brainstorm, on that one.
Well -- not solving the problem by writing this. On to work.