Today I went to my Starbucks (by "my" I mean that it is the one that I go to the most frequently. I only wish I owned my own coffee shop.... granted having baristas come into my house at 5 am to set up would be awkward eventually). I was there with the sole purpose to sit down and write. I've been trying to write a script for a few months and I have the worst case of writer's block I've ever experienced. I made about 10 pages of notes in the course of 3 hours, during which time I considered who would win: Rick Blaine* or Bruce*, tried desperately not to fall asleep and spent more time searching for music than actually listening to my iPod.
Most of the stuff I came up with was poop. Sure it got me further into the mind of the protagonist, but as far as plot? I have doodly-squat.
So it totally makes sense that while I was stuck in traffic today, whilst running errands, a whole separate idea popped into my head. A nearly complete short film, just requiring a few tweaks here and there. Why does it always work like that?
Oh, and for anyone who visits (all 2 of you), here's a picture:
It's my weird attempt to draw Houdini. Don't ask me what's up with not drawing eyes. Even I don't understand my brainmeats sometimes.
*And if you were wondering: Rick Blaine = Bogart in "Casablanca", Bruce = Shark in "Jaws"