So what is Richard Hatch’s strategy in this “Survivor,” anyway? Nudity as a psychological tool of domination? Gotta love that, even while you wonder how the hell this guy can go clamber in and out of a wooden rowboat in salt water with his boys flopping around like that.
Anything to take the old mind off the weekend’s chore, stretching ahead like fifty miles of potholes: Gotta write a new step outline for the ol’ screenplay. It’s the most vital step, and the biggest pain in the ass — you have to write down what happens in the 80 scenes or so in your movie, just a line or two, but oh how it hurts. It’s the armature of your little sculpture, without which everything collapses into a damp heap.
And so you sit down. Oh, this will be easy. You gallop through 20 scenes. You realize this won’t make a movie. So you start making stuff up: “Bob walks down the street.” “Bob sits and thinks.” And so on. This is your first draft. On my second, I expect I’ll whip through, oh, 35 good scenes, and then have to pull only 40 or so out of my butt.
Kind of a quiet day today. Class, writing workshop, seminar on the intractable Israel/Palestine situation. I wish I could tell you I left feeling hopeful, but I didn’t.
So, then. Maybe a few bright spots on the web out there? Sure, there are a few:
Beato rounds up the shocked, shocked Super Bowl commentary.
Low Culture catches Rummy doing the way-oh, way-oh thing.
Hey! My newspaper makes Romenesko!
It’s amazing how many house fires start this way. “Treated for smoke inhalation,” huh. Is this, like, meta, or just a mirror looking into a mirror?
Go have fun.