Every writer starts at the same spot.
Staring at the blank page.
Wondering what to put on it, what story to tell, what voice needs to be heard, what thoughts must be expressed. With my movie Cook finally being made and that dream being realized the one question that kept weighing on me every day was…
Time to write a new script. Tell a new story. Face a new blank page. It had been such a long road trying to get Cook made that the thought of writing a new screenplay literally made me sick to my stomach. I mean, do I have another ten years in me to wait and see if something I spend hours and hours and weeks and months and sleepless nights, and long hikes, and tears and time, time, time creating may possibly, maybe, hopefully come to fruition?
Of course I do!
Because it’s what I do. A writer writes. There is no greater feeling than when the voices start to talk to me, telling me what they want me to say, guiding me to a story that feels important to share.
But waiting to hear those voices can be torture. Cook literally came to me on a hike. It was a story I knew I had to write and every day I took that hike and listened to the characters. It was the most divine writing experience I’ve ever known. It poured out of my fingers to the keyboard — sometimes my hands couldn’t keep up! It was exciting and I knew that what I was experiencing was pure inspiration, divine inspiration.
And when I was done I knew I had written something that I wanted to see.
Ten years later I am seeing it. Every day. It’s alive and it’s thrilling and it’s no longer only living in me. It’s breathing in actors and producers, a crew and a director and, in time, audiences.
Which brings me back to my pressing question.
So, over the holiday break I stared at the blank page. I took walks, mediated, hiked, and prayed. Most important, I listened. Listened until faintly, ever so faintly I started to hear a voice… a whisper… a breath.
And tap, tap, tap… my fingers began. Began slowly. Frustratingly slow. But tap, tap, tap…
The voices are getting a little stronger, a bit louder, bolder.
I’m writing. I’m writing a screenplay… again. What does my heart want to say now? Share? Feel is desperately worth a journey?
It always comes down to love.
A writer writes. And this writer… loves.