Adaptation

There is nothing I can write about Adaptation that would not sound stupid and/or pretentious. Keep that in mind.

I have this idea for a film. It's about dreams. It's equal parts Philip K. Dick, Ursula LeGuin, and Charlie Kaufman, but there's also this unmistakeable other element: I'm clanging around in there too.

But I don't have Kaufman's command of post-postmodernism. I can barely write blog entries without getting frustrated. Kaufman can take postmodern irony and lace it with sincerity and come out all flowery. I can barely write a realistic plot unless I base the whole damned thing on real life experience, which always seems like a cheat.

I have a hard time making up things in general. I can take something that really happened and dramatize it, but give me a blank slate and no experiences and I'll sit there, get frustrated, and then go get a burrito.

But that's writing. You write what you know. Failing that, you write what you can know, meaning you get off your ass and do some research: academic, experiential, whatever. You have to get up.

Then I watch a film like Adaptation, which could very well be real life experience except for all the stuff that he changed, and I wonder if I'll ever be able to do this well. I wonder if the art that I have chosen to pursue is really for me. I've been mired in "idea mode" and "incubation mode" for more than a year, and the frustration is mounting. When I have time to write, I go hang out in a record shop. I haunt used bookstores. I collect things. I spend money I don't have on stuff I don't need. I watch movies and blog about them. I blame work for taking up most of my time, and teeter on resenting my wife for wanting some of the rest. Anything to keep from writing because, face it, there's danger of failure there. I could invest a year of my life for nothing. Spec screenwriting is a terrible way to spend one's time -- one can spend ages on a story that goes no further than the desktop and a few supportive friends who may well be placating you.

Self-loathing, not really. I am at home with the me that is on this adventure. Self-flaggelation, probably. But not, you know, in the worst way. Self-affirmation is in there too. Admitting these things puts my work ethic in perspective.

I need a hack twin brother.