I realized since I started writing its just been pouring out of me. All the unsaid and untold stories of my daily existence. At first, I set out to write a script and now I am rearranging my life in order to write everyday or as it turns out I only have 12 hours a week. I want to back up a little. I set out to write a script, a comedy but instead I am talking about Lucid dreams and Vipassana meditation. Its ok. All of these will be a part of it somehow. Its my character and I have to get to know her.
Yesterday on the way to the park with Yura and Isaiah, I saw Malcolm Gladwell in his running gear. He was leaving the park, my husband spotted him. I never see anyone and he is always pointing out the celebrities for me. I think he must live somewhere in Park Slope. Its funny because that day I was thinking about him. I quote him a lot. I wrote the post based on his 10,000 hour theory. To become a master you just need 10,000 hours of practice was on the the conclusions of the Outliers. I conclude that at this rate I might become a master writer by 54.
I guess what’s funny to me today is ever since I decided to do this script, I’ve been meeting film maker after film maker and writer after writer. It feels like everyone new that I meet now is a writer or a film maker. So far, they have been short encounters but I want to know more so I will ask questions.