Today is NOT a good writing day, at least for A DEATH IN THE FAMILY. I feel like I've been working on this play for a month and I already cut about 60% of what I added in because I decided it was stupid. So that's great. Good news--I cut the page count back. The rest is all bad news.
I hate hate hate hate the feeling that I am making an even bigger mess of a play that fell is a giant mess to begin with. In the end, I am sure it's actually okay, but the mystery might actually be an even BIGGER mess than it was before. I don't know what to do.
So I will work on the Top Secret Project. I have some books on the Top Secret Project, and I will work on researching that while Bill and Steven are playing games. I have to do some writing that might actually be productive today.
Honestly, I don't mean for it to sound like I'm getting down on myself for having a bad writing day. They happen, I really am trying to be zen about it. It's just hard because I really want to have the draft ready for when I get the call.
I used to not want to write about this sort of thing--the bad writing days, the mental illness, but I realized something. They are who I am--the good and the bad. So I have to take it all. Why not be honest about it?