One of my great artistic failures -- a life-sized Ceratosaurus portrait executed in ink and graphite. I spent about three weeks working on it over the course of a month and a half, because the amount of time I spent standing threw my back out twice, leaving me bedridden. I had to give it up, just as I finished the neck. Lemme tell you, it would have been sweet...
I'm taking a quick break from working to make this post. Long-time readers may remember the Evopunk posts.
These were drawn from a film script I wrote in 2006. I'm in a narrative scriptwriting class now, and my goal is to revamp the script so as to make it, you know, something that doesn't suck.
I've been terrified of this job, I've wondered how to fix the plot, it's just intimidated the hell out of me.
Well, I'm halfway through the script, and it's in much better shape than I thought. I'm not going to have to rewrite it from scratch, I've figured out how to fix the plot, jazz up character relations, etc, etc. I'm getting excited -- and of course, once I get the script written, I've got a lovely template for a novel.
It's fascinating for me to see how much my writing has been influenced by scriptwriting. I've recently been complimented by one of my writing buddies on my strict, "Show, don't tell," policy -- that is straight out of scriptwriting. To tell the truth, right now my prose is more cinematic than my scriptwriting used to be.
And this story is very different from most of my writing -- it's tough-guy action/adventure stuff. Which is really a lot of fun. I need to get a treatment out today, and you know what?
I'm not worried at all.
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