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Boring Work Notes Yes


Daytime was for GUN MACHINE and email.  Tonight is for Film Thing, which I was officially commenced on back on Monday by the company.  I haven’t been cleared to talk about it in any way, so I’m keeping this vague enough to not get into trouble while satisfying my daybook needs (looking back, years from now and completely senile, to figure out exactly what I was bloody doing). 

Codename for this project is INVISIBLE ZATOICHI, which is what Ariana keeps calling it despite the fact that it has absolutely bugger all to do with the project.  Which I hit my first milestone on in four weeks, more or less (my exec on this is actually an incredibly nice guy, and not a clockwatcher, thank god.  There’s nothing worse in this game than “I don’t want it good, I want it Tuesday.”  And there’s more of that about than you’d like to think).

So tonight this gorgeous slate-grey Field Notes with the silver lettering (which you can’t buy any more, but Field Notes do new stuff all the time) is getting slowly filled with my pencilled chickenscratch notes that I probably won’t be able to read in the morning.  All jobs start differently.  This one starts with the idea that got me the gig, and then the notes from the phone conference, and then a rough story timeline, and then a list of questions I have to answer for myself.  And that’s the beginning, before I get to a full cast of characters, assigning motivations, and all the other things that will start mutating the shape of the story.  And then three weeks from now I will look at the mess I’ve accreted, have a hategasm and burn out everything that isn’t the spine of the story with the power of my anger.

Writing is basically a job for people who like punching themselves in the face, I’m pretty sure.

I actually kind of hate using up this lovely notebook that I’ll never own a new copy of.  Is that weird?

This photo turned up in Fraction’s flickr today.  I have no idea even what.  I mean, did he break into Brian Wilson’s secret beach lab or something?


Does Brian Wilson even have a secret beach lab?  Wouldn’t that be kind of scary?  Mind you, if it were real, Mike Love would probably have firebombed it by now.

Oh, and your lede of the day:

An Alum Creek man has been arrested after neighbors allegedly found him standing over the dead body of a stolen pygmy goat while wearing women’s underwear.  Thompson told deputies he had been high on bath salts for the last three days…

Published in daybook researchmaterial