Kill Your Darlings and Write in their Chalk Outline
This will be the title of my harrowing account of being a process junkie. My many mistakes, my few lessons. My compiled lists of scripts, links, books, podcasts, and musings.
I’m currently reading Matt Fraction’s back matter for the first arc of CASANOVA – raw and weird and open and just full of veins of process diamond dust.
I’m currently reading DEADLY CLASS and pulling it apart in my head like an alien autopsy from the 50s. Pacing and format gold.
I’m currently listening to SERIAL because seeing how each episode is structured to give more of the whole but all of that limb from the tree is stoking fires deep in my basement. Fires in which I will sacrifice my darlings.
I’m currently writing a polished draft of a #1 issue script before sending it to an editor. The only thing stopping me hitting that send button right now is that I want a little more information slipped into the margins, and I want that end kick to be something we wind back for in some of the early pages.
I’m currently writing a one-sheet pitch for a project after the high concept paragraph I sent in raised an eyebrow. I’m writing it all up in a new blank document just to see what I remember, and to then analyse what I forgot, and why forgetting it might mean something about it’s quality or necessity to the narrative.
I’m currently staying up late, drinking coffee, because these are the only hours I get. So I use them.
I’m currently talking behind the scenes with writer friends because they know what they’re talking about, and they speak my language, and these things are important. You wouldn’t ask your dog about your mortgage, don’t ask some rando about your page turns. Find kindred spirits and then battle for the Quickening.
I am currently steeped in process. I was yesterday, I will be again tomorrow.