1) I hang upside down like a bat. I find that when the blood rushes to my head, it stimulates creativity. 2) I sit in a bath tub with and old typewriter because Dalton Trumbo used to do it and it sounds kinda cool. 3) I sit in a small bungalow at my summer home in New England. 4) I write in my office listening to jazz but nothing newer than 1975 5) I hand write all my rough draft screenplays on napkins at Starbucks
Quality, Phil, but as much as I love Trumbo -- I did not need to see him in that tub...the image is still burned into my brain and it has been years. Horrible.
I like to sit on my patio and pick off pecky birds with a Smith and Wesson 9mm. Nothing gets my creative process going more than seeing blood and feathers fly! I love the smell of subtext in the morning! Smells like victory!
David: Hell, you don't need and 9MM for that. I used to use a BB gun when I was a kid. Of course for bigger birds, a 22 will do. But I don't shoot God's critters anymore. I just buy my critters in the meat section at the HEB.
A 9mm just feels relaxing. I subscribe to the Hunter S. Thompson School or Relaxation. Either that or just feed the birds some Alka Seltzer. I would never harm one of natures residents unless I need to for survival purposes.
True story; while driving down the road yesterday, I almost hit a very large turkey that flew in front of my car. I wonder what I would have done with him had I had hit him?
True story; Years ago. While driving a 1988 Ford Blazer, as the vehicle started to go through an underpass a bird dive bomed right into the grill of the vehicle. Feathers did fly up. 4 witnesses. I have a story too about hitting a bear at 90 MPH. To make a long story short, only thing left of the bear were its paws.
In 1999, I hit a mule-deer on the 70 in the Utah desert. It was the first time I saw a mule-deer, and thought it was some type of baby dinsosaur mutation. I'll never go to Utah again, unless I'm driving a military tank. Mule-deer 1, Plymouth Reliant, 0. :(
My story isn't cool, but I really need to tell someone. Last wednesday I was driving my Toyota Camry into the city to see "Puddles Pity Party," a sad singing clown, when I hit something small on the road, (my first ever road kill) but I couldn't stop so I cried all the way along the freeway to the city and my mascara ran. All I could think of was it was my fault that poor creature was having the worst day of its life. True story.
That's awful! Perhaps we should have a moment of silence or quiet reflection for the poor creatures, may they rest in peace -- or pieces. Sorry, that's so bad! I couldn't resist. But, honestly, I would be absolutely horrified if I ever hit anything. I'm always the one to call Wildlife Assistance or the Humane Society; pull over, save the stray dog, help the baby ducks get across the street. So, yeah, I'm not the Hunter Thompson type either. As far as helping my creativity, what works for me is being left alone, no disruptions, no distractions. Just work. :)
Yes back on topic. I need solitude, a cup of coffee or a glass of armagnac. I might listen to music if it suits the scenes i'M writing otherwise silence. Snacks. Snacks are good. I don't need darkness nor light. I like the blinds up a third of the way. Just a bit dim. A sensitive little soul I am.
Beth. I would never hit anything intentionally. Sometimes on highways things happen at high speed. A friend of mine avoided hitting a huge deer on a highway. we felt the antlers scrape the door but he was alive. I mean, not like I said "Hey Steve, see that bear in the middle of the highway? Hit it!"/ LOL.
Don't feel sorry for some animals, though. I got attacked once in the ocean in Florida by a damn barricuda. I thought it was a shark at first. That fish took a chunk out of my thigh and kept attacking me. I later found out that barricudas are such sociopaths that sometimes when they're not even feeding, they'll still attack other fish for no apparent reasons. Kinda like the Johnny Cash song - "And I shot a man in Reno....just to watch him die." Careful in those oceans!
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1) I hang upside down like a bat. I find that when the blood rushes to my head, it stimulates creativity. 2) I sit in a bath tub with and old typewriter because Dalton Trumbo used to do it and it sounds kinda cool. 3) I sit in a small bungalow at my summer home in New England. 4) I write in my office listening to jazz but nothing newer than 1975 5) I hand write all my rough draft screenplays on napkins at Starbucks
Quality, Phil, but as much as I love Trumbo -- I did not need to see him in that tub...the image is still burned into my brain and it has been years. Horrible.
I like to sit on my patio and pick off pecky birds with a Smith and Wesson 9mm. Nothing gets my creative process going more than seeing blood and feathers fly! I love the smell of subtext in the morning! Smells like victory!
Jerry: OMG! that would be a sight to make eyes sore/
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David: Hell, you don't need and 9MM for that. I used to use a BB gun when I was a kid. Of course for bigger birds, a 22 will do. But I don't shoot God's critters anymore. I just buy my critters in the meat section at the HEB.
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A 9mm just feels relaxing. I subscribe to the Hunter S. Thompson School or Relaxation. Either that or just feed the birds some Alka Seltzer. I would never harm one of natures residents unless I need to for survival purposes.
1 person likes this
True story; while driving down the road yesterday, I almost hit a very large turkey that flew in front of my car. I wonder what I would have done with him had I had hit him?
True story; Years ago. While driving a 1988 Ford Blazer, as the vehicle started to go through an underpass a bird dive bomed right into the grill of the vehicle. Feathers did fly up. 4 witnesses. I have a story too about hitting a bear at 90 MPH. To make a long story short, only thing left of the bear were its paws.
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David: I love it!
In 1999, I hit a mule-deer on the 70 in the Utah desert. It was the first time I saw a mule-deer, and thought it was some type of baby dinsosaur mutation. I'll never go to Utah again, unless I'm driving a military tank. Mule-deer 1, Plymouth Reliant, 0. :(
My story isn't cool, but I really need to tell someone. Last wednesday I was driving my Toyota Camry into the city to see "Puddles Pity Party," a sad singing clown, when I hit something small on the road, (my first ever road kill) but I couldn't stop so I cried all the way along the freeway to the city and my mascara ran. All I could think of was it was my fault that poor creature was having the worst day of its life. True story.
That's awful! Perhaps we should have a moment of silence or quiet reflection for the poor creatures, may they rest in peace -- or pieces. Sorry, that's so bad! I couldn't resist. But, honestly, I would be absolutely horrified if I ever hit anything. I'm always the one to call Wildlife Assistance or the Humane Society; pull over, save the stray dog, help the baby ducks get across the street. So, yeah, I'm not the Hunter Thompson type either. As far as helping my creativity, what works for me is being left alone, no disruptions, no distractions. Just work. :)
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I'm really digging the turn we've taken on to the animal highway. Great road stories everyone has.
Yes back on topic. I need solitude, a cup of coffee or a glass of armagnac. I might listen to music if it suits the scenes i'M writing otherwise silence. Snacks. Snacks are good. I don't need darkness nor light. I like the blinds up a third of the way. Just a bit dim. A sensitive little soul I am.
Beth. I would never hit anything intentionally. Sometimes on highways things happen at high speed. A friend of mine avoided hitting a huge deer on a highway. we felt the antlers scrape the door but he was alive. I mean, not like I said "Hey Steve, see that bear in the middle of the highway? Hit it!"/ LOL.
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David, I never implied you would? Nor anyone for that matter. Of course it's accidental. :)
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I know you didn't Beth. But in the nature of humor I had to say it!
Don't feel sorry for some animals, though. I got attacked once in the ocean in Florida by a damn barricuda. I thought it was a shark at first. That fish took a chunk out of my thigh and kept attacking me. I later found out that barricudas are such sociopaths that sometimes when they're not even feeding, they'll still attack other fish for no apparent reasons. Kinda like the Johnny Cash song - "And I shot a man in Reno....just to watch him die." Careful in those oceans!
I have entire spotify playlists dedicated to my scripts. XD Its fun to pick out songs that capture the mood in any given time in a story.