Task 1: Why Write?

• Write for five minutes, answering the question: "Why do I want to write? What is motivating me?"

This has been a long time coming. My high school creative writing teacher once yelled at me for writing a story about little phallic shaped monsters attacking a steamy drive-in movie theater, it was my favorite class. I've written various weird little poems and surrealist streams of consciousness, but nothing memorable. We're changing that.

Some things that have motivated and inspired me lately are:

• I'm an avid audio drama listener. Lots of Lovecraftian cosmic horror, other wordly eldritch gods, cults, mystery, sci-fi, fantasy, often with a subtext that speaks to the deep seated anxieties and insecurities of life.

• I recently finished Ubik by Philip K Dick and I'm currently reading The Dispossessed by Ursula K Le Guin. I'm a big fan of sci-fi, stuff that makes you think about life in a different world, a different time, a familiar but unique form of life as we know it. I enjoy the thought experiments about politics and technology, about love and relationships, and the meaning of it all.

• Tarkovsky. Something about the way he tells a story captivates me. I read a quote that struck me recently:

  "I am constantly being asked what this or that means in my films. It's unbearable! An artist does not have to be accountable for his intentions. I did not do any deep thinking about my work. I don't know what my symbols mean. I only desire to induce feelings, any feelings, in viewers. People always try to find "hidden" meanings in my films. But wouldn't it be strange to make a film while striving to hide one's thoughts? My images do not signify anything beyond what they are... We do not know ourselves that well: sometimes we express forces which cannot be grasped by any ordinary measure."

  I've always been torn between veiling my art in symbolism or allowing the imagery to do the work, to set the vibes, to allow the observer to feel rather than have to think about what a particular "symbol" represents, to experience the story as we experience our lives. I want to be mindful of this when I begin writing. I don't want to be vague and mysterious about the distinct meaning of something that's happening. Tarkovsky says this:

  Mysterious elements in my films? I think people somehow got the idea that everything on screen should be immediately understandable. In my opinion events of our everyday lives are much more mysterious than those we can witness on screen. If we attempted to recall all events, step by step, that took place during just one day of our life and then showed them on screen, the result would be hundred times more mysterious than my film Stalker. Audiences got used to simplistic drama. Whenever a moment of realism appears on screen, a moment of truth, it is immediately followed by voices declaring it "confusing." Many think of Stalker as a science fiction film. But this film is not based on fantasy, it is realism on film. Try to accept its content as a record of one day in lives of three people, try to see it on this level and you'll find nothing complex, mysterious, or symbolic in it.

  Tarkovsky on Symbols and Metaphors

As for the type of stories I'd like to write, well, I've got a bunch of Ideas covering a range of genres. A diverse range of topics and genres is what I'd love to pursue. Lately I've been dreaming of writing a short psychological/cosmic horror film, but I'd also love to write a dramatic love story. The plan is to write whatever my heart desires, consistently, and not beat myself up for writing garbage or not finishing a story.

The goal is to learn, share the process, and wind up with some cool stories and scripts.

Task 2: Writing Prompt

Let's do an exercise, my first writing prompt... I'll spend 20 minutes just winging it here. I'm nervous.

Prompt: "They took a short joyride through a dark night."

They tossed their empty sodas and waved to the bored high schooler itching to clean out the empty theater and get the fuck out of there. The lobby was empty and wreaked of buttery popcorn. The leftover staff of kids stood impatiently, texting their dealers and lying to their moms. He didn't want to take her home yet.

She pretended to look at something on her phone and caught him staring at her. His gaze shot forward and he uttered, "So what's going on tonight?", pretending that their time alone was coming to an end.

"Uhm, I was, I'm not..." He opened the car door for her and she cracked a smile.

His Grandma died recently and left him this old green Kia with a bumper that was duct-taped on. The speakers didn't work so he installed a makeshift sound system with some portable computer speakers and an aux cord. He handed her the cord and told her to throw on some tunes.

Her dad was in a band, one of those working class guitar-shredding guys that everybody knew and loved. He taught her everything she knew about music, from Joe Satriani to Jon Fogerty. She hit play on her favorite CCR album.

He'd never heard of them, but he was digging it, albeit a little embarrassed by his own lack of musical literacy.

"Do you need to be home soon?" He pulled up to a blinking red in the sleepy small town of Paleto and waited for an answer.

Her phone lit up, a text from dad. She ignored it, "No."

He flicked the right blinker. Then the left.

Not a single car on the road, not one drunk asshole screaming at his girlfriend, just the buzzing of the street lights and late summer cicadas. Where was everyone tonight?

Not that they noticed of course.

Conclusion

I actually enjoyed this way more than I could have hoped for, but found it much more difficult as well. Maybe I'm thinking too hard and should just let my thoughts flow freely as opposed to thoughtfully crafting a voice and narrative at every sentence.

This was my first go at writing a little something and I feel like I'm about to get very obsessed and passionate about this journey.

As it relates to the story, well, I wonder if I should get crazy with it and have her pull out a gun on him, maybe he did something to her or her friend, a revenge story. Or perhaps something supernatural is occurring and they simply don't notice because they're falling for each other, or maybe that's whats causing it. Where is everyone? Is her dad going to come looking for her?

^^ This is what I love about this, the endless possibilities. Choosing a path is the hardest part.

Until next time :)

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