Part of my logic behind bouncing out of Australia is because, as a fussy, temperamental, writer I’m overly sensitive to environment. At the moment I’m locked away in the middle of the forest awaiting some voyages into town to swim in the opportunities I believe only New York City has to offer.
My cousin, like myself, has his own artistic talent he’s trying to make happen in attempt to avoid the spiritual decay of having to carry out a ‘career’ that offers virtually no recognition of what you’re actually skilled at – he’s a director. So 1 upcoming director + 1 upcoming writer = script requirement. (Where I come in…) And what sort of script have I begun working on? A SLASHER SCRIPT!!
Indeed horror movies just aren’t what they used to me, so while I am over here writing chick lit, YA fiction, micro-fiction, new stand up material and poetry… we’re going to toss a screenplay into the picture. This should be the part when a producer and/or publisher stumbles across my blog and says, ‘You know, maybe she’s serious? Maybe we should work out some type of food for words arrangement and see what she says?’ (Ps. I’ll totally take it.)
So HURRAH!! It’s working… I’ve been here less than a week and new ideas are already popping! I’m in one of the oldest, creepiest, parts of the country during the deadest season of winter that’s quickly approaching, what better time for a short-film involving heads rolling and sharp things flailing??
I think I’m even getting through to my parents that I’m actually serious about this whole writing thing… they’re taking note of the hunched-over-laptop pose I don’t seem to move out of during the day except to refill my coffee cup or take a break to run around outside.