Oh Dear...

...I just spent an hour and three-quarters on the phone with the person I'm doing the reality with instead of creating a post that would outdo yesterday's. Of course, that would be an impossible feat but I was at least gonna try.

Originally I called her to say I was having a problem with one of the acts (the deadly middle one). It was one of those problems that I couldn't actually pinpoint so I didn't really want to figure it out tonight. One of those things I wanted to sleep on...or more accurately, put off. If I was being truthful, I'd have to say at least half of my writing is procrastination.

But we kept talking, going over the beats, back and forth to know end...I finally chimed in that I thought we should both sleep on it and a solution would come to us. Nope, she wasn't having any of that. We kept going and then low and behold the problem revealed itself. Again, I was ready to call it a night but we kept going until suddenly, the solution showed its face like a ray of sunshine. It was an epiphany. One of those solutions that, in hindsight, was so simple that it should have been there all along.

As it turned out, we were the ones that had created the problem in the first place by having our characters react to a circumstance in a way that they never would have in real life. It's one of those things that is the kiss of death in a fictional feature or fictional TV show, so you can just imagine how wrong it would be in a reality show. And once we came up with the solution to the problem (which wasn't actually as easy as I've made it out be) everything after that moment made more sense.

So now I can sleep without having to solve the problems of the world and I will be anxious to write the next part tomorrow...instead of facing the dread of having to identify and solve the problem. Which also means I won't be cleaning the house, doing the laundry, polishing the silver and/or whatever else we writers choose to do in order to avoid the monumental task of actually writing. The heavy lifting is over...until the next load of shit appears and has to be turned in flowers.

P.S. I was just thinking I should explain why I choose the picture I put in this post but then I thought it you be more to see why you think I chose it...consider it art interpretation. I always find it fascinating how any given person will see the same thing from a completely different perspective. This thought was germinated from the emails I received on yesterday's John Mayer Sucks post. I don't think many people got where I was coming from with it, which is actually really cool. And it made me think I'd like someone to point the post in JM's direction to read, just to see if he gets it. I'm guessing he would, but maybe not. Anyway, that's what's so great about the arts - writing, music, painting, photography, etc - when you put something out there, the interpretation of it is really up for grabs. And that's a good thing. If the viewer or reader or listener finds a different meaning than the artist intended, it's not wrong, it's actually exciting. At least that's the way it is for me.