#238: Lost

I’ve lost lots of writing.
I am disorganised.
I have thoughts sometimes.

Writing is procrastination.
For a long time, you are nowhere.
For a long time, you have nothing.
That is one of the key issues I have learnt about playwriting: the blank sheet of paper is your enemy. It needs to be filled. It demands to be filled. And most of the time what you write is just going to be scribbled out or deleted. It is frustrating.
It begins with an empty notebook, a flickering computer screen, too many biscuits and too many cups of tea.
Writing is procrastination.
All the sessions were a means of distraction, a diversion from the task in hand. From 2-5pm every Wednesday, I sat in a room with a man telling me how I might go about writing a short play. How do you write a short play?
I don’t believe there is a formula.

Writing is procrastination.

I read David Greig, Caryl Churchill, David Hare, Harold Pinter, Suzan-Lori Parks.
Alan showed us Sarah Kane, Arthur Miller, David Mamet.
We spoke about character development, setting, plot, dialogue.
It was unstructured.
We looked at newspaper articles, objectives, different genres.
It was unstructured.
We discussed the playwright’s craft.
I’d really like to know what that is. But if the playwright’s craft is my craft, then don’t I already know it somewhere in the back of my mind?
We conversed about researching, finding stimuli from outside the classroom.
Practice through research.

I’m sorry.
I can’t write this.
You can’t expect me to write this.

I don’t have an analytical approach towards my writing.

Four people stayed to hear my work-in-progress.
Limited amount of feedback was received.
Nothing was learnt.
Nothing can be learnt through practice, if no one is there.

That’s what playwriting is about. For me.
Being by yourself.

All alone. By yourself. Oh forget it.

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