My re-blogger is broken…merde!
My re-blogger is broken…merde!
My re-blogger is broken…merde!
1st let me blame my current paradigm on #Starbucks.
(Yeah, not my name or what I said, but strangely, “this time”, my coffee…)
In my current situation, I find myself with a stomach ache. A self-induced need to vomit due to a class I am taking tomorrow. A one-on-one plotting adventure with a writing coach I admire “too” much and as I try to prepare I find myself with the urge to post here.
What am I to take from this?
I have hand-scrawled papers strewn about my 10′ long dining room table. My office and desk have become a tangled maze where I can no longer sit comfortably or house the twenty devices I power while writing. I am unable to find the digital files I would like to reference or which apparatus I used while working endless hours on the questions I am sure will be asked.
A mess, a hot, freaking homeless looking disaster would describe me in perfect detail.
Why do I choke? When this is everything I have been working for?
Somehow, someway trying to place an order through the drive-thru has made me doubt my ability to speak perfect English. I live in the PNW, Pacific Northwest. We don’t have accents unless we are expats from across the country or continents, in which I am not. I have left any valley-girl tendencies back in the eighties, like, totally.
I have, over the years, wheedled my order to the barest of necessities. (the stress involved in a more complicated drink, NOT worth the effort) Americano. Bam. Phlewy. Simple. I need to determine two things, my preferred size and if I’d like my drink iced. There are no bells or whistles. So how does my coffee turn into a Trenta, stirred, non-fat, caramel mocha, extra hot, hold the whip, with drizzle and added cream? ?? ???
Aliens? Gremlins have invaded my left frontal brain lobe? No longer do I speak words, but wheeze instead, and the baristas are forced to make the order up?
There are no cars behind me in line. I am alone. There is only 1 drink on the reader board. And if that was my drink, God forbid, I should state my preferences in the wrong order, but it is not. I am 100% positive I am unilingual, sad, I know, and the only words to come out of my mouth were, “May I please,” being polite and all, “have a grande Americano.” Inferring I’d like it hot since the words “iced” were not used.
The whole ordeal defies any form of logic and makes me doubt EVERYTHING. ,
This will be me.
Because, how? if I am unable to relay a ridiculous coffee order through a drive-thru voice box in clear detail will I ever be able to define the projects I am working on? And storylines are a tad more complicated than ordering a cup of “Joe” or are they?
Write On! ❤ Jess
P.S…wish this girl luck, I have the feeling this is my key to unlocking the magical golden door to the kingdom.
Never heard of it? Yeah, neither had I, but I’ve met a few, so I made one up, lol! We know some are suffering….
All in love and good fun, Write On! ❤ Jess
Welcome to Thursday, June 8th, 2017 the day AFTER June 7th, 2017, the 1st Wednesday of the month and the official day of IWSG.
( Déjà vu…I feel as though I’ve been here before, many times, many, many times. 😦 )
It’s a very real possibility my membership has been dissolved, being tardy for the party and all.
Which is exactly why I am the perfect member for The Insecure Writers Support Group.
That’s right, so let’s get up and dive in!
(The inspiration is more for me than anyone else, yikes.)
Over on my blog jessicaedouard.com, the one covered in cobwebs and filled with chirping crickets, because I’m a happenstance, infrequent visitor to a blog plastered with my name.
#WTHJ (What the Heck, Jessica) #GYST (Get your s___together, stuff people, lol) But don’t I make a cute #Kenny? Continue reading
Relationships…who needs em?
Yet, we all do right?
If you are not of the A variety you usually fall into the B category, dumper, duper…sleazebag. Fear not, there is the beauty of karma, irony & fate.
Are these common situations any different in the universe of Writing?
The idea behind American Writers was to expose the underbelly of the journey, our trials, our frustrations, our moments of complete failure, scratches, and occasional success. Instead of being amongst the slew of Writers who claim to be Writers and know everything about Writing …so very much more (yes, I used-so, very & much) than the other 3 gazillion and 4 Writers (no supporting research data) in the world of Writerdom.
Jeesh, Sally calm down. Not only do I hear you, I feel you sister, but 1st let me bow.
So what’s the deal with critique groups? Either they are of a higher echelon that you are unworthy of attending or members suck what they can until the group no longer serves their purpose and move on. To where? I believe we still inhabit the same plot structure.
The greatest advice is “be your own cheerleader,” because we have to, yet, there are those few who fall victim to their own great marketing strategies. Even the humble play at being humble to get continued positive strokes. Yikes…
The brilliance of the “CG” situation is enlightening. We all falsely believe WE are the better Writer. And, being amongst the ton is helpful. We are different people, voices, and points of view. Each lends a hand in improving each other in whichever state we find our current WIP. Work in progress, use your words, acronyms don’t make you sound smarter and it’s freaking annoying.
Is there a graceful way to ditch a peer group and move on? Without using flowery bullshit that grownups can decipher? And exactly what is being said to those left behind? I rock, you suck, later dudes.
We can see you, we have this thing called the internet.
Brilliant, NOT mine, #FML
Twenty-eight months ago I began the quest for my personal holy grail. I’ve met great people, industry professionals, received the worst advice given to mankind (that I inhaled) and spent thousands of dollars as every other would-be, wanna-be Writing genius. I have a collection of 4 blogs, 2 of which believe I am dead, too many social media accounts to keep up with and am the proud owner of multiple pen names. I have walked away from critique groups and, recently, have been walked out on.
Bound to happen, right?
The decerning piece is when I give my word to writers who have asked something if me, I follow through to the best of my ability and while I don’t have the whole shit and caboodle figured out, I will.
Only the best-Truly-Sour grapes and all
Write On-<3 Jess
All hail Kristen Lamb…
I eagerly prepare to attend a class where public flogging is an anticipated event. Weary authors will stand in line, heads hung in despair and maybe a fleeting quiver of hope lodged like vomit bubbling in the back of their throat, humbly bowing before their master, waiting for THE “shredding” Knees quaking, writers will clench between white-knuckled-fingers a two sentence description of their manuscript. Peeping through half-closed lids, fearing the removal of an outstretched hand, we will offer our meager sacrifice stained in hours of coffee slobber and sweat.
How is it that one can be filled with an obnoxious combination of enthusiasm and apprehension at the same time?
Adrenaline has become this, moi, writer’s bubbly, knocking it back as an eager freshman. There is definitely something peculiarly wrong with this picture. I feel as though I am a dark age villager, preparing her lunch to watch the beheading of another crier of the written word, a fellow peer, and friend, standing first row before the hovering guillotine, hoping mid-bite, perhaps, that I shall be the next oblation.
And if called upon, what will I do?
A year and a half ago, I would have shrunk behind the crowds, disappearing into the swarms of rowdy peasants hailing curses and throwing rotten tomatoes. Fast forward to present day, I will be first to watch the spectacle. My glasses pushed high on the bridge of my nose with pencil sharpened, journal wide-open, praying to absorb the ink splatter. And will dance with Gene Kelly as he belts out,“Singing in the Rain,” shouting, “Pick me! Pick me!”
So you ask what is a log-line? I found Gideon’s Tips and he describes it like this …
“LOGLINES are a 1-2 sentence description of your script. They aim to identify the main character, the tone, the conflict and give an idea of theme and plot. Some loglines can stretch out to 3-4 sentences and are more like mini-synopses. A new trend is emerging to describe your film in 25 words or less. Whatever the format, the purpose of the logline is for you to quickly pitch your script to a producer and talent to convey the general concept. Another recent trend in loglines is to pose a hypothetical question such as “what if”? or “imagine if”?
The basic anatomy of a logline is: Character A must achieve a goal, but character B blocks him in a unique way different to other films. Character A emerges a changed person by learning something about themselves or humanity at large.”
Thanks, Gideon! I’ll let you know how it went.
Write On! ❤ Jessica
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