A while ago I got excited about a possible avenue to take my writing down. I love comics. I fucking love them. Currently I have an expensive habit, and one that I am not likely to kick anytime soon. I like the habit. They make me happy. That wondrous parcel that arrives through my door each month filled with promises of brilliance and never failing to fulfil that promise. Love them.
I would love to have a published comic book out there in the big wild world. One of my favourite writer's (Brian Michael Bendis) said that comics were one of the best mediums to write for as there was no budget or restrictions to your imagination. If you can think it and write it then it will be there on the page. Comics are a much more immediate medium to create stories for. They are awesome art forms that tell stories unlike any other. Film and TV are ace, don't get me wrong, but they are filtered, compromised in some way, writing and drawing your own comic... fuck compromising anything, this is your vision on paper in ink. Yeah!
I used to be able to draw. I used to kick arse with drawing. I don't really know what happened. I think I kinda exchanged skills, drawing for writing. Time has moved on a lot since that exchange at the skills store took place and, well, here we are. I can't really draw for shit. Or more to the point, I don't have the patience of discipline for it anymore. Writing is more immediate and satisfying. I can think of a scene and character and an action and write it and have it front of me in rough form in moments. Drawing... fuck... I can't fucking draw arms and legs properly... that would take the only creative excitement out of the process and get stuck on what I can't do. it's like not being able to spell and knowing you can't proceed unless you get that first word of that fucking sentence written.
So I found someone a dude who could help. I wrote a few crazy concepts that didn't go anywhere. I unearthed an old idea that has never quite gone away involving microwaves, BMX chicks, the power of music and the power of film making and the power of friendship. It was The Young Ones meets Mighty Boosh (I don't fucking know how you spell it) meets Jules et Jim. All systems were go for a glorious few weeks. I was proper stocked. And then it didn't happen, isn't happening.
Yeah.
I have a script. I like it. Cannot let it stagnate. So I have gone back in. With an eye to developing it into a TV pilot sitcom script. Who knows what will happen to it. But I like writing it. Seems to be getting a lot stuff out of my system that has plagued other scripts. Personal stuff from the past that clogged up a possible good script now has a proper home, because it is about personal past stuff. But fun. Not doom and gloom, wacky and fucked up and mental and hopefully endearing and funny.
Yeah.
I can only disappoint you, so keep you fingers crossed if you wish on this one. One of many that have entered into this arena of hopes and dreams. Keep em crossed. I can only disappoint you like everyone else on this fair planet we call Earth. But fuck it, we're still alive aren't we. Isn't that what it's all about?
Who knows?
Namaste.
