Wednesday, June 25, 2008

I have been learning a lot about myself these past few weeks. I now believe that I have some form of obsessive compulsive behavior. My mind gets locked on one track and I can't veer off of that course until everything is completed. I also have finally come to the conclusion that I need lists and that I need structure. Flying by the seat of my pants leads to anxiety. I have a lot of anxiety when I run. I'm trying to work through that one. When I approach the end point of every long run, I fear that I won't complete the run (i.e. the race) and that I will embarrass my family and myself. This has to be the reason my training fell off for three weeks. I woke each morning and would think, "What's the point?"

Finally, I am full of dread when it comes to sitting down and writing the next story. I'm sweating now just thinking about it. I have no confidence in myself and I'm trying to push through this wall. Driving into work this morning I had several excellent ideas for the new script. When I sat down at my desk, I could barely pick up the pen.

Perhaps I have been trying to be some kind of writer than I am not. Perhaps I am trying to be Arthur Miller when I should be trying to be Stephen King or Rod Serling. Why must I think that I should be writing heavy drama when I could be writing horror or fantasy, two genres that I clearly enjoy (see "Lost", "Twilight Zone", "Reaper", etc). Somewhere in my life someone planted the idea in my head that these types of fiction are not worthy of respect. It's time I get past that notion.

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