Well I had a three-day, Memorial Day weekend in which existed plenty of time to further my research. I did, at first, on Friday. I spoke with a family member who had further knowledge of crime in Cleveland back in the '60s. That was superbly helpful. But after that, I only really talked about the project twice during the whole weekend. And now, today, I'm paying the price for it. I'm beating myself up for my inactivity.
This is a dangerous point in the story-making process for me. This is limbo. This is that span of time in between serious story preparation and serious story writing where it's up to me to stay on top of the project, to make sure I'm doing everything I need to do, before I actually start writing. Many times in the past, I've struggled here with projects that never make it out of limbo...that are stuck in development hell.
So I'm at that point again with this story...and it's a story that I'm excited to write - I'm invested, I'm anxious. I want this to happen, to work. I want this story told. I've never felt this kind of fire in my chest for any past project. And I've always been excited about my past projects. Therefore the self-inflicted consequences of not getting this done are so much greater.
That all having been said, today I understandably feel awful. I feel like I squandered the weekend away with nonsense that won't amount to anything worth while. It definitely didn't contribute to the project or its progress. So what the hell was it for? Why didn't I work? Man, I hope I can get my head back on straight...because I can't stay this unhappy with myself for long. I don't want to depress myself.
My goal remains to have at least a first draft script ready and done by the end of July. I still think I can accomplish that, since I now have about two months to go. That's plenty of time to get the script written. Now it's just a matter of getting myself to actually do it. No more random bursts of accomplishment. No more small moments of success.
I'm in it to win it.