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Lying in bed, it’s not that I don’t feel tired, but there’s this vacuum where tiredness swirls into nothing. Strange. Getting out of bed in the mornings is like dragging myself out of a coma. Throughout the day, there’ll be occasional lapses where I feel I could fall asleep regardless of what I’m doing – working at the computer, eating lunch, or sitting in front of the television. But once I’m in bed, that tiredness, that need for sleep, evaporates. Lots of things flit through my mind. My writing. Stuff to do at work. Shit I should’ve said in arguments I’ve had. Random images. Projections of what I want for…
A Foray into Screenwriting
In my early twenties, I took some drama courses because I had a mild interest in acting. One of the teachers was a film and television director. I asked him if he’d look at any screenplays I had. He said…
Midnight’s Dawning
I jump around a bit in this blog because it’s interesting to contrast my attitudes of today with that naïve, optimistic, hopeful writer from over thirty years ago. Writing about him, I miss him, and the idealism he nurtured. But…