Some Weeks, I Just Have Nothing To Write

I seem to be getting to the point of a blogger's life where the well is running a little dry.

In the past, I fell back on posts on reading: amusing typos, complaints about common errors, advice for writers. But the mental file cabinet is empty now.

I haven't seen a movie in a theater in ages, so I can't weigh in on whether 300 looks too fake or too perfect or if it is too bloody or just bloody enough.

I've been busy with work, so I haven't written a word in my script in about 10 days, but I certainly don't want to blog about that. Much.

The new Nicholl Fellowship applications are out, so I guess I could blog about what a great experience being a semifinalist was last year. Except it wasn't such a great experience. People requested my script, people were sent my script, people didn't care.

So other than the minimal respect garnered from being able to say I was a Nicholl semi-finalist (hey, anything helps) there wasn't much there.

Not that you shouldn't enter. Go for it.

I've been planning to blog on the new scripts by Charlie Kaufman and Noah Baumbach, two of my favorite writers, but I haven't read them yet. I have them, but they are sitting under a pile of something. Somewhere. Someday I'll read them, when I feel like picking up another script at the end of a long day.

If there's a post about one of them tomorrow, you'll know I did.

I've been watching some decent TV DVDs for my reviewing-crap-in-exchange-for-DVDs job, which is basically geared toward filling the late-night hours when I don't feel like reading or writing; it feels more productive than watching the stuff actually on TV at midnight. So I watched the first season of a British cold case TV series called "Waking the Dead", which is very good, and I watched the first season of a Fox sitcom called "The Loop", which was surprisingly funny in an amiably-juvenile way.

I suppose I could write about taking Sunday off and driving up the coast with the wife; we hung out at the Santa Barbara marina for a while, and watched the little crabs scuttle around. Some day we'll break into Oprah's place, but we haven't figured out where it is yet.

So I don't really have much to write about. Maybe tomorrow.