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Winston Churchill
I'm recently bereft. I've suddenly discovered that the massive endeavor I have made at writing a novel has been defunct. I understand that the muses work on a tight schedule and that they don't always have time for little 'ol nobodies like myself, but it would've been very nice of them to let me know that the 75 pages I toiled over for my novel would be better as a play. Forgive me for saying it but, damnit, damnit all to hell.
It's not easy making such discoveries of ones writing, in fact it's quite the opposite. But, I suppose no matter how hard I tried Theatre would always find some way of pulling me back in. It's not so much the Theatre I hate. It's the actors. I go to an art school, see and I know an actor when I see one. I've done my best to stay as far away from them as possible, not to mention playwrights who have a tendency to be even more ridiculous and pretentious. I've done my best to rise above, shall we say.
But, it seems the universe had other plans for me. Plans, I might add, which had nothing to do with what I wanted for myself. I suppose, following what's best for the piece is the higher ground instead of selfishly expecting my writing to be exactly what IIIIII want it to be is what I should have been doing all along.
I proceed with trepidation, but also with a little more pizzazz. Oh, fuck it, I'll just make it amazing.
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