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January 27, 2012

Sorry I’ve been so quiet lately.  Had a lot of bits and bobs on, mostly the usual work coma stuff that I try not to whine about lest I sound like a broken record.  And not a good broken record.  We’re not talking about Miles Davis, or the Best Of Spandau Ballet.  More like some scratched Betty Boo single (but not one of the two good ones).

ANYWAY.  Mostly I’ve been busy writing non-blog kind of stuff.  Like, I taught myself how to use Twitter, which was interesting.  Mostly because I still maintain it’s like Facebook for retarded people.  And trying to decipher it is like learning to read Japanese, without all the delicious food incentives.  But still – check it out @GlennyfromtheB (stupid character limit.  *mutters, etc*)

The main thing I’ve actually been working on has been my screenplay.  Not the one that I’ve kind of been banging on about the past couple of years, but a new one.  Well, technically it’s the only one, since the other one (lets call it FB) has never made it past 30 odd pages of treatment since I’m somewhere between a lazy ass and an intellectual chicken shit.  But still.  This one is actually getting written.  Which is a big step for me.  Mostly because I’ve never been that kind of writer that tends to, you know, write things down.  At least not until the last minute.  Seriously, all through school, right up to Senior Year I never started writing an essay until the night before it was due.  Heck, I remember performing a major one man dramatic collage for Finals and not even writing the script down til AFTER I performed it.  This doesn’t mean I’m lazy though (well, I mean – OBVIOUSLY this means I’m lazy), it’s just that I’ll spend ages and ages and ages writing things in my head, turning phrases, filtering content, structuring – but I never write things down hard copy until they’re done.  I can’t stand physical editing.  So to be working on a screenplay is an amazing step for me.

read more after the JUMP..

It’s weird, actually, to see something I’ve thought about for so long and be able to actually read it back to myself.  The thing that’s surprising me the most is that it’s actually quite good.  Like, really really good.  I dunno, I don’t want to Jason Biggs it up to much, but I’m cautiously optimistic about it (as opposed to my natural state of sexy pessimism).  I think it’s because, as a writer, I can always read it as my audience.  And I’m thoughtful enough to be able to differentiate that, for a screenplay, I really have three very different audience filters that I need to read it through and make it hit it for each.  I mean, at the end of the day, it’s not just got to appeal to an audience who forks over ten bucks to see it, but it’s got to appeal to the people who produce it and fund it and, in turn, that one or two people who have the connections to get it in front of those magic money men.  And they are three very different sets of eyes and ears and hearts to key into.

That’s what has always made me a good writer though.  I always write for an audience without ever being contrived.  My natural writing voice is always in tune to making a connection with whoever is listening, which is something that I think a lot of writers, and artists in general, forget to do.  I mean, what’s the point of painting the most beautiful painting in the world if no one can understand it?  I mean sure, it’s probably still very creatively satisfying but, creating art with a complete disregard for your audience is a tremendously self-absorbed and lonely path to follow (I’m talking to you Lars Von Trier).

But then, pretty much everything in my life is geared towards other people.  I mean, not in some retarded wannabe martyr way but, when I’m with people, something in me always instinctually changes, like some personality trait filter kicks in and brings all the most relevant parts of me to the surface.  And it’s not some pathological need to be liked, either.  The truth is, I don’t really care about what people think about me, because I’m secure in what I think of me.  But I do care very deeply about making the people I choose to have in my life happy, hence the Glenny Filter 2000.

And that’s the thing.  When I’m around other people, all I can think about is what they’re thinking, what I think they’re thinking, what they’re feeling, how I can make them feel better.  It’s distracting.  Mostly because, as much as I like to think I’ve got a touch of the Oda Mae Browns (oh, God, that sounds like a gastric disease.  It’s actually an AMAZING Ghost reference), I really don’t.  I am incredibly perceptively though, like scary perceptive.  Most of my friends can share anecdotes of how scarily en pointe I can be with other peoples emotions and situations.  I guess it’s always what i was good at.   Ever since I was a kid, I had to keep my Dad and his family happy with stories about my Mum, I had to keep my Mum content that I wasn’t a Fag, I had to show the kids at school that I wasn’t afraid of them, I had to make boyfriends feel like they were loved, one night stands feel they were respected, I had to convince work colleagues that I was both smart and easy going even though I run on more energy than a whole state worth of Hoover Dams, and so forth.  You just constantly find yourself in this (admittedly self-imposed) bubble where you’re constantly making people feel good, keeping them entertained, making them like you , making them want you.

Sometimes, you forget where your projections end and the real you begins.  Most of the time, I only ever feel like I’m myself when I’m alone.  That’s the only time my head goes quiet.  It’s the only time I can relax.  I want to be clear though that I know that these ‘feelings’ of others I profess to care so much about aren’t quantifiable things.  Like, I’m not retarded.  Emotionally maybe.  But I know that it can never be 100%.  But I also know how astute I am.  I’m always the guy who can make you laugh.  I’m always the guy who can make you feel loved.  It’s part of the reasons I can’t have one night stands anymore, because the guys always want to see me again.  Because I kiss them.  And I’m tender.  And I’m attentive.  And I like to hold them afterwards.  I like to comfort people.  It’s nice.  And that’s something that’s genuinely not to feed my own ego, but it’s just because I think that there’s not enough people in this world who don’t take two seconds out of their day to make someone elses a little brighter.  Fuck, I sound like Oprah.

But it’s true.  But it’s also confusing.  But that’s why I like writing.  Because in writing no one’s feelings get hurt.  And I was always a mediocre actor and sometimes that carries over in my ability to communicate verbally.  I’m fucking useless at saying anything rehearsed.  I make Rumer Willis look like Julia Fucking Roberts.  I’m only funny when it’s spontaneous.  But in writing?  Man, in writing, you can fine tune the shit out of something.  And not just humour, but real emotional pathos.  And tension.  My favourite thing is to make people feel things when I write, because psychologically I understand them so well, so I can always stay two steps ahead and write to their expectations and subvert them.  It’s always what I was best at.

I don’t know why I don’t exist anymore.  It’s weird.  I feel like this computer game character that is generated based on the user that is playing.  But I’m so good at it.  Get a Greeting Card from me and I dare you not to cry.  Go on a date with me and try and not get butterflies in your stomach (or, you know, IN YOUR PANTS).  Sometimes all I want is someone that I trust enough not to think around.  Sometimes I’m so afraid that I’m just go to have an aneurysm one day and die, like my brain is just going to give out, run out of steam.  It sounds absurd, but I’m really scared of it.  No one I know thinks like I do.  I used to think everyone did but nobody talked about it.  Now I know it’s kind of just me.  I’ve only ever met one person in my life who got it and, these days, I’m not entirely sure he’s not a complete sociopath.  Just my luck, huh?  I’m in no rush to find myself a boyfriend anytime soon – I’ve got too many things I have to do with my life first – but sometimes, when I lie awake in bed each morning, I wish I had someone around me I felt comfortable enough to relax around.  My head is always running, crunching numbers, playing scenarios.  What makes me an amazing writer makes me a kind of scary human being.  But I miss just relaxing.  I miss having an empty head.  I miss the calm that only comes when I am down by the water or walking through the park..

Oh well.  Honestly?  I really love making people happy.  I’ve always been an entertainer, ever since I was a kid.  And, more than that, I’ve always been the nurturer.  And that’s what makes me so fucking excited about this year.  I read these scenes, I read these pages of scripts and I feel like, finally, at age 30, I’ve cracked the code of what I’ve been meant to do with my life.  Because they’re like nothing else I’ve seen.  And they’re going to scare the shit out of people.  And they’re going to make them cry.  In the best possible way.

It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you..


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