Wow, the last time I wrote in this thing was Thursday night. It must look like my dedication to the craft disappeared over the weekend. Rest assured it has not.

Writing is a strange thing. There are many ways to get words on the page. At times it feels almost effortless, and at times the blank page seems to taunt. The blank page tortures me now, but it will not prevail.

Over the weekend a story started to come to me. I was going for a walk after the Super Bowl (I felt I owed it to my heart for clogging its arteries the entire day), and the opening scene of the screenplay flashed in my head. Then - characters came. I could hear their dialog. I could see their flaws. The story moved forward and backward as I spied on these people. And it was fun! I hadn't felt that way since I started writing a previous (but still unfinished) screenplay.

Nothing can beat the rush of a new idea. When you are overcome with it, you just have to put it on the page. So, at the behest of my cholesterol-lined insides, I headed home.

Opening up my laptop I began to type in a fury. My brain was hardwired to my fingertips, and to tell the truth I didn't even know what I wrote until I looked at it the next day. I mean, I had an idea, but I was trying to tell my roommate and I sounded like a complete idiot. I was speaking in tongues. After trying to describe to him the idea, I gave up and went back to writing.

It had been a long day. The Super Bowl is a recipe for exhaustion caused by doing absolutely nothing. It's like when you sleep in until 2 in the afternoon, and you think you should be wide awake, but you want to take a nap at 7 - only, with the Super Bowl you add about 3,000 calories and the effects of beer (just a few!). I think you know where this is going. After my flurry of writing madness stopped, I was too exhausted to review it and try to write more. My brain stopped functioning completely.

And now, here I am, two days later - staring at a blank screen. That is the game of writing. But if the page thinks it has beaten me, it must think again. It may think it knows all my moves, but that's because I didn't have any before. Now I'm armed with a new motivation. Writing isn't about finishing papers for class anymore, or coming up with a short scene I don't care about. Writing is LIFE now. Right? It's work and play and the future all rolled in to one. It's what I want to do. It's what I HAVE to do.

Right after I stare at this blank screen for a while...

Reason Number 427 Why I Will Never Be A Famous Writer:
When I type with "fury" it only ends up being like 5 pages.