• Lay on the beach.
• Play in the ocean.
• Take naps.
• Go for sunrise runs on the beach.
• Read books.
• Eat delicious seafood.
• Drink fruity drinks with rum.
• Laugh a bunch.
• Look at beautiful things.

Vacation, here I come!

Where I’ll be for the next four days. (Photo by my sister, who is already there — lucky girl.)

May by the Numbers

• Number of scripts sent out into the world on Sunday: 3
• Hours worked at the day job in April: 144
• Hours worked freelance in April: 42
• Number of houses purchased in April: 1
• Age I’ll be at the end of my home loan: 59
• Number of days ’til the beach: 13
• Number of days ’til I have to fit into a bridesmaid dress: 80
• Number of spreadsheets I’m currently using on a daily basis: 11
• Number of Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs still in my freezer: 17, miraculously
• Days ’til our Denver trip to see The Book of Mormon: 104
• Number of dollars I spent at Starbucks and Chipotle in April: I am afraid to look.
• Number of short films I’m meant to complete this month: 1
• Square inches of available counter space in my kitchen at the moment: 4.5
• Length of average blade of grass in my yard (in inches): 7
• Books started in April: 3
• Books finished in April: 0

(Probably Temporary) Re-Entry Into Adulthood

So, now that I’ve got the scripts out the door (and before I jump back into post-production on STILL), I’m shifting priorities just ever so slightly toward attempting a semi-normal routine for a semi-responsible adult. This mostly involves working out, getting my house back to a state of “mostly presentable” rather than its current state of Did a small tribe of messy squatters move in here while your eyes were glued to your computer screen?!,  something I’m calling the #MakeYourOwnFood initiative (which involves — you guessed it — making my own food in order to save money & give the poor folks at Chipotle a break), finding some balance by making time to read for pleasure, and probably mowing my lawn (or bribing the boyfriend to do it with the fruits of the #MakeYourOwnFood initiative).

Regarding said initiative, I’ve decided to really have at it for a week, during which I’m not eating out unless someone else is cooking or buying (i.e., I’m not paying for food, except my non-negotiable morning coffee hit). I actually really love cooking, and it’s hard to point out a more tangible form of creativity.  But I hate cleaning, and that makes for a rather poor combination especially when I’m swamped with other things.  It’s only halfway through Day 2, but so far, so good!

Rocket & tomato salad with homemade honey-dijon dressing. First thoughts: "What is this green stuff, and why didn't it come in a Chipotle sack?"
Second thoughts: "Rocket" is way more exciting than "arugula."

Brie, Chocolate & Roasted Strawberry Grilled Cheese (recipe from How Sweet Eats). I refused my boyfriend entry into the kitchen whilst making this for fear he would refuse to try a cheese-chocolate combination. Pleased to report the recipe passed muster (was there ever any doubt?) and is now Boyfriend Approved.

A Twist on Panzanella. The fun part of taking my lunch is taking advantage of the infinite definitions of the word, "salad."
The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad part: waking up before 5 a.m. to throw said salads together plus having to remember to wash my dishes at work every day. I really feel like I should have a better handle on the latter by this point in my life, but oh well.

If food porn is your thing, you can follow along over on Tumblr or Instagram.  Tonight it’s Shutterbean’s Brussels Sprouts & Bacon Pizza. Boyfriend is definitely a lucky guy this week.*

The funny thing is, I’m only two days out from script work, and I’m already itching to work on something new. So I’ll probably be going at a nutbutts pace again here soon enough, but it’s nice to take a few days and regroup as part of my continuing efforts to pass as a Responsible-ish Adult.

*…if he mows my lawn — bwahahahaha!

There’s a storm brewing on the horizon now, one they’ve been promising for days that keeps getting delayed for whatever reason the weather does things, and I sort of feel like that’s my life right about now.  I’m not even going to attempt to form this into a cohesive post today, but here are some thoughts currently swirling around in my brain.

Nicholl deadline is in 4 days, & other important ones follow in quick succession.  Meaning my view for the weekend will be variations of this.

A screenwriter at Starbucks? How original!

Self-employment tax is a real kick in the teeth, isn’t it?

Assuming there’s no relationship disaster between now and the clock ticking over to Saturday, I’ve got a six-montherversary tomorrow. Haven’t had one of those in… well, I’d've been a senior in high school, and I had my 10-year reunion last year, so… Well, it’s been a while. And that’s a bit weird. But mostly just pretty wonderful.

On the other hand, the boyfriend seems to think he can, as he put it, “roflstomp” me at Super Smash Bros. So, that relationship disaster could be looming after all when this lady & I kick his arse.

Ditty & Zelda – Coming Soon to an Arse-Kicking Near You Especially if Your Name is Tyler & You are Dating Ditty

My mom keeps teasing me with offers to sell me her iPad and then backing out. Next thing I know she’s going to attach it to a fishing pole and dangle it barely out of my reach just for kicks.  Right this very minute, I’ve got an e-mail from her that says, “It’s very possible I could sell you my iPad.” And the subtext to that is, “And it’s also very possible I will NOT sell you my iPad! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”  I just don’t know how much longer my heart can take this cruel, cruel game.

I took part in a photoshoot with some of my fellow freelancing friends the other day.  Amy, my DP for STILL (which is coming out of hiatus and going back into post-production in May, so help me God!), had the brilliant and terrible idea to do a sort of video business card thing. Brilliant because, well, it is. Terrible because it required me to be in front of the camera, thus re-proving to myself that I am meant to be behind it. The worst part was I got my self-written lines right on the first take, but it was too windy & didn’t take. So I then proceeded to botch the next three attempts and became the only person of our quintet to drop curse words for the day.  So that was fun.

The Crew

Here’s some street art I found that seemed pretty appropriate given my failure to maintain on-camera composure.

Lastly, I’ve been a homeowner for a week now. Feels a bit funny when everyone offers a hearty congratulations considering I’ve been living here for seven years & just bought the place from my parents, but I guess it’s still a good thing. If you consider massive amounts of debt you’re contracted to pay off over the next 30 years of your life a good thing anyway.

Confession: I bought this drink just so I could take this picture and caption it "Coffee's for closers."

And hey, the sun’s out again. Go figure. That’s it for me, folks. Have a lovely weekend. Enjoy the last bits of April, since the rest of it disappeared to who knows where!

P.S. — My friend Matt is doing his first movie review assignment for Screened today, so stay tuned to his twitter to see the article, and check out his blog for some stellar film analysis in the meantime.  Also, my friend Stuart has a collection of dark short stories being featured for free on Amazon today, so do check it out!

But then I remembered that creative writing does not steal juice from other creative writing.  (And as someone somewhere at some point once said, “All writing is creative writing.)  Just like actual muscles, creative muscles get stronger with more use.

What has been an issue is time.  It’s hard to figure out how to ration your time when everything feels like a priority.

Let’s Define Some Priorities

The day job pays my bills and ensures I have health insurance, so it’s a priority. My screenwriting is my passion, so it’s a priority.

The freelance stuff is something I enjoy and feel compelled to pursue for a variety of reasons, so it’s a priority.

Working out and not eating everything that pops into my mind or line of sight keeps me healthy, my brain functioning better (endorphins? yes, please!), and my clothes fitting (and since I threw out all my old clothes in bigger sizes, this is important), so it’s a priority.

Feeling justified at being facebook friends with people you only know because they work at Starbucks and Chipotle is totally normal, right?

A social life of some sort is important because it gives me forces me to take a break from my workaholic tendencies and interact with people other than the awesome folks at Starbucks and Chipotle . Plus my boyfriend is cute and I like to look at him. So that’s a priority.

To Do
Get boyfriend to take semi-serious picture. - Check!
Make smiles a priority! - Working on it!

Priority Management — aka, Herding Cats

I could go on, but I think you get the picture.  I don’t have the answers yet.  Working 12-14 hour days is my norm right now, and I constantly alternate between feeling like I should be doing more with my time and wishing I had four to eight more hours in the day. And I know it’s the same for a lot of working writers and other creatives out there.  So help me out.  Tell me how you’re keeping your head above water so I can steal it.  Here are a few tactics I’m making use of at the moment.

Google Docs

I’m a total spreadsheet nut, and gDocs is the best option for me because I can access it wherever I am. I have a multi-page spreadsheet with every single freelance item I have due, when it’s due, how long it takes me, how much I’m charging, and how many words the final product is (if applicable). When an item has been paid, I move it to another page, and I keep another page with projected income for the month.

Evernote

Evernote is where I create my Weekly Goals.  I try to keep them to about a month in advance so I can add future tasks and events. I have several categories on each Goal Note, starting with a variation on the GITS 1-2-7-14 method and including each freelance item I have scheduled for the week plus other goals like work outs, meals I want to cook, and other goals (like “vacuum,” a box that has remained unchecked for longer than I will ever admit to beyond warning you to watch out for the fur tumbleweeds blowing across my parlor floors). If I have an event scheduled, like a birthday party or a family get-together or a special date night, I’ll add it under the Other Goals because checking off boxes is inexplicably satisfying.

Post-It Note To-Do Lists

This is how I prioritize for the day, and it gives me a chance to check off even more boxes (or line through items, depending on the mood I’m in, because I like to stay unpredictable like that).  This is also a good way to keep myself from assigning 87 tasks a day because you can only fit at most about 40 on a standard-sized Post-it. That is almost a joke. I mean, it’s true, but I try to keep it closer to about 10 — and that’s still overkill if we’re being honest.  But it’s a process, people.  I like post-its because they also fit perfectly inside or on the cover of my pocket moleskine notebook that goes with me everywhere.

So that’s me.  And it’s sort of working.  Most of the time.  For now.  What’s working for you all?  How do you define your priorities, and how do you prioritize them?  Give me some tips!

• Pages of web copy I’ve written in the past 7 days: 52
• Hours worked at the day job in March: 149
• Hours of freelance worked in March: 32
• Number of times my house was broken into in March: 1
• Pages of script spread out and marked up on the floor of my library: 45
• Pages of script yet to be marked up in a pile on the floor of my library: 55
• Days since I’ve worked on my script: 4
• Days ’til the Nicholl Fellowship deadline: 21
• Days  since I cried in the stairwell at work, and then again in my cubicle when my coworker tried to ask me a simple question: 1
• Days since I’ve had a brow wax (please don’t look at my face too closely): 58
• Days since I’ve had my bangs trimmed or hair cut by a professional (which actually works nicely to cover said unruly brows): 71
• Number of episodes of the first season of Game of Thrones I’ve seen: 6
• Days until the next disc gets to my house and that number becomes 8 because OMG IT’S SO INTENSE: 1
• Number of times I’m going to be tempted to dig into the crackers & hummus a coworker brought today: 872
• Days ’til I have to fit into a bridesmaid dress one size smaller than the one I originally fit into at the fitting because I am stubborn and dumb and am dedicated to the idea of a number rather than the idea of being able to zip my dress and still breathe: 101
• Number of Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs currently in my freezer: 24
• Days ’til I’m supposed to run in a 5K: 25
• Number of runs I’ve done in the past month: 4
• Number of runs I’ve done that haven’t felt like torture: 0
• Number of items on my to-do list: 63
• DAYS UNTIL I GO LIE ON A BEACH FOR 4 DAYS AND DO ABSOLUTELY NOTHING EXCEPT SLEEP AND EAT AND TAN AND MAYBE READ SOME BOOKS: 34

My Going To The Beach Face

The last time I was in Joplin, Mo., was in 2009, for my last grandparent’s funeral. Technically, he was my step-grandfather, but he was the one I’d always known as Grandpa, even though he’d become estranged in the half-decade since my grandmother’s passing.  It is also a strange thing saying goodbye to someone who said goodbye to you long ago.  But heartbreak does terrible things to a person. I understand. I felt weirdly distant that day, like I was watching the proceedings from behind a one-way window. Old acquaintances kept asking my mother if she had grandchildren yet, which had the unintentional side effect of making me feel a little guilty for every half-joking response of, “No, just grandpuppies so far.”

So yesterday I returned, two years and a lifetime later, to a town that is half-gone, ravaged by tornadoes. Most of the day I pointed out memories rather than artifacts.

• To a patch of overgrown ground cover: “There used to be an amazing garden here, and every year my grandpa would gather up all the leaves from the trees and put them in this big hole he dug in the ground over there to make compost.”
• “I used to climb that tree,” though the branches I used to climb it are gone.
•  A parking lot: “The playground used to be here, and they had this amazing fire truck monkey bars thing.”

Perhaps the strangest incident was trying to track down my grandmother’s house, the one she lived in when I was growing up. I knew it was gone, but there’s some part of my brain that still doesn’t really believe it.  We drove past a set of stairs leading up to a lot, and remarked at how weird that was. It wasn’t until we reached some houses down the street and backtracked using the addresses that I realized those stairs had once belonged to the house I was searching for.

We got out and walked around, and I tried to remember where things had been.  The porch with the windchimes, the sidewalk leading to the deck, the trees I’d helped my grandmother plant.  The evidence that lives had been lived here.

I wasn’t sure what to feel.  My boyfriend didn’t say anything, let me ramble on, pointing out little wisps of memories, or half-memories. When I stopped talking, having run out of things to say, he simply hugged me.  It was the only and perfect response to the silence.

I think a lot about that old adage, “You can’t go home again.” Recently I read something about how it’s not home that changes, but us. We are the ones who leave and experience and come back with new sight. But the world is not fixed in cement either. Sometimes it changes, too, no matter how much we’d have liked it to remain as pristine and golden-lit as it is in our memories.

It’s that whole Buddhist insistence on impermanence, that true joy and peace can only be found in present moments. But again, there’s more to it than that. The past is our present in some ways, because it provides a fair portion of the building blocks that make us who we are. And when those things disappear in the physical realm, it creates a strange cognitive dissonance. To share who we are, we’re left with ineffective tools to try to rebuild the images dancing about in our minds.

So, can we go home again? Yes and no, I think. We change, and the world changes, and there’s no way of stopping it — nor should we want to. Progress, growth, ashes and rebirth — these are all dependent on change.

But we can define a home within ourselves, too. We can acknowledge and remember our past, and we can honor the past by sharing it, by telling our stories, and by living new ones. Humans are the only species that have the ability and desire to create our own narratives. It’s our burden and our gift. The key, I think, is in remembering that old chapters are not erased by new ones.

Here are my balls. {Get your minds out of the gutters, you saucy sillies.}

• I work your typical, 40-hours-a-week, non-creative, cubicle job. And full disclosure, it can be, well, emotionally challenging.
• I recently took on what I think can be called a load of freelance writing work.
• I’m still pursuing the whole crazy screenwriting dream.
• I’m supposed to be finishing a short film.
• I’m trying to keep in shape & to lose approximately 7 pounds in order to fit into the bridesmaid dress I ordered for my sister’s wedding because I’m silly & stubborn & demanded the size I thought I should have rather than the one I measured for post-holiday-binges-and-Melting-Pot.
• I like to see movies and watch a handful of TV shows as well as read a variety of books, in my efforts to be culturally aware, artistically fulfilled, and to just effing relax from time to time.  Sometimes these activities are combined with one of my favorite pastimes of Hanging Out With My Boyfriend.
• And then there’s the effort to maintain some semblance of a social life by seeing Other Human Beings in a non-work environment from time to time.

And what I’m finding is that’s quite a lot of balls. {Out. Of. Gutters!}

For a while, I was trying to make myself adhere to the brilliant GITS 1, 2, 7, 14 Method, but it just became too much, and I’d often find myself staring at my computer screen pretending to work but really accomplishing nothing or giving in and mainlining episodes of How I Met Your Mother on Netflix Instant. Once I’m out from under the pressure of the major contest deadlines, I’d like to implement it again, either in its original form or in a modified-for-me version. But right now, it just wasn’t working.

So last week I finally gave in and gave myself permission to focus my creative endeavors on One Thing. And right now, that’s rewriting SoS until it’s in ship-shape for Nicholl and Austin.  The other script I’ve got in the pipeline will wait, an

Sometimes you just have to give yourself a break and take the pups for a walk.

d it will be better for it when I can throw all my creative juju at it instead of parceling it out.  Same goes on the short film. Once the contest deadlines are out of the way, I’ll be able to breathe and dedicate creative energy to finishing post-production and taking whatever next step I feel is appropriate when the product is final.

One thing I’m trying to do this year is to be more forgiving of myself. My mantra is, “Let it be.” I’m ambitious, and I push myself hard — and these are good things when you’re chasing big dreams. But I’m also human, and I deserve to be treated as such — especially by my own self.  Some days, you just need a break. And if you’re working consistently and putting in the effort every day, then allowing those days to be what they are is totally OK.  It’s tough to find the balance between taskmaster and pushover, but I’m working on it.

I’m also working on actually scheduling in downtime on a more regular basis, because when I’m doing that, the burnout days happen less often.  So even though my to-do list seems to grow every day instead of shrink, next week I’m taking a much-needed two days off from everything to go to St. Louis with the boyfriend. No agenda (except going up in the Arch, which is non-negotiable). Just fun. I’m pretty sure I can do that. And I’m also pretty certain my creative brain will be better for it, too.

So that’s what I’m doing. Or trying to do.

The keys for me to doing a challenge like this are 1) sharing, 2) allowing yourself to catch up, and 3) using a little creative license when you’re stuck — since the point is, after all, to be creative.

So what’s the benefit for writers? It teaches you to always be looking to your surroundings for inspiration. When you do a challenge like this, you have to find the interesting in the mundane, the beautiful in the ordinary things we see every day. Sometimes it’s simply a matter of opening your eyes or peeling them away from your computer screen; other times it’s a matter of changing your perspective.  It forces you to use your imagination, to solve problems, and to tell a tiny story with a single picture (something that is, perhaps, even more beneficial for screenwriters in particular).  Plus it’s super fun, and when you’re stuck in the Doldrums of Act Two, every little bit of fun you can pass off as creative work helps.

And bonus: If you veer toward the sentimental like I do, it’s kind of fun to have these small moments documented throughout the month to look back on.

So I’ll be participating again in February, again using fat mum slim’s handy prompts. If you’re a writer or fancy yourself creative in any way, you should definitely consider it. It’s such an easy creative outlet with nearly everyone’s phone having a camera on it these days, and you’re looking at about one to two minutes of effort a day, if that. If you’ve got an iPhone, you can use instagram to perk up your photos. I have an Android phone, so I use the Camera360 app, which has done a lovely job (though sometimes I do pull out my fancypants camera on days my phone just won’t get me the detail I want).  Here’s the list:

And last but not least, here’s what I ended up for January (click to see at proper size & not all grainy):

Filed under: life, photography, writing ]]> http://elizabethditty.com/2012/01/31/the-janphotoaday-challenge-and-why-photo-challenges-are-good-for-writers/feed/ 1 ditty1013 photoaday2 February Photo A Day Challenge Ditty's January Photo-a-Day Collage http://elizabethditty.com/2011/07/19/a-farewell-to-borders/ http://elizabethditty.com/2011/07/19/a-farewell-to-borders/#comments Tue, 19 Jul 2011 12:04:40 +0000 Elizabeth Ditty http://elizabethditty.com/?p=1303 ]]> I knew last week that Borders could no longer be the refuge it once was for me.  Too much angst and longing now lived inside its walls for me to truly benefit from the calm I always found in its towering shelves of books.  But I still loved it.  And I’d hoped that someday I’d again find more comfort than sadness there.

But that day won’t come now because Borders, within a matter of weeks, will be closing its doors for the last time.  As much as society has heralded the coming of the eReader, analyzed the effects of behemoth Amazon, and discussed the role of the physical book in our increasingly electronic world, it still sends a physically unsettling jolt through me to know that, if I’m in dire need of a book, I won’t be able to duck into my favorite bookstore and pick it up.

Sometimes two days really does seem too long to wait.  And Amazon, as much as I love them and support them with my business, doesn’t have someone to make small talk as you pay for your purchase.  No one comes up to you as you peruse the links and blurbs to ask if you need any help finding what you’re looking for.  Amazon can’t look you in the eyes and smile at you.  Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but in my book that still counts for something.

The thing I loved most about Borders was it gave me a place to go, and then, to be.  How many words did I write within the support of its walls?  I cannot tell you with any greater specificity than, it was a lot.  It was a good place for write-ins, less cramped than local coffee shops, and with the added benefit of inspiration all around you, by way of people as well as the stories that had made it to concrete form via paper and ink and binding.

How many conversations did I have whilst walking the aisles or sitting in the café?  It was one of my favorite places to meet to catch up with people, quiet enough to hear both your thoughts and the voice of whomever you were with, but not so quiet that you felt awkward speaking.  The spirit of the place always felt warm, which made it perfect for both rekindling and deepening friendships, both old and new.

Now, as this place I’ve loved slowly disappears, I must decide how to remember it.  This is what I choose. Borders for me will always be a purveyor of magic.  It was the place I could meet a friend I hadn’t seen in months or even years and discover kinship immediate and deep.  It was the place I learned I could fall in love again, all because a barista made me tea, stole my heart and carried it for a time; and it was the place where I was learning to survive heartbreak when my heart became too heavy for him to bear.  It was the place where I could walk among stories, from the centuries-old to the just-revealed, and steal their strength and wisdom, and where I could trade money for the honor of taking them home with me.  And it was the place where I could and did create stories of my own, enveloped by humanity’s greatest tradition even as I took part in it.  Magic, all of this.

I can take comfort in knowing that this magic will not cease to exist with Borders, but a part of me grieves knowing it will be harder to find.

Hey Ditty,

I wanted to wish you good luck for your shoot tomorrow. I don’t know if that in itself is bad luck, or if “break a leg” only counts for acting and not directing. But whatever, I’m not going to suggest you break your legs, even under the guise of superstition. And anyway, you don’t need luck. Luck is for people who don’t know what they’re doing.

I’m sure you’re having sleepless nights and grumble-belly days thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Oh, that pesky Universe! But here’s the thing. I have no doubt that you’ve planned and scribbled and sketched, and have everything under control, so most likely, almost definitely, everything is going to run smooth as you like, but, let’s not pretend moments don’t sometimes happen. Outside forces you can’t control, or forgetting to carry the 1 in your formula of greatness; sometimes, occasionally, something will go a little outside of the plan. And when it does, there’ll be that crazy beat of panic where you feel like you’ve just swallowed the whole sky.

But say that does happen, you know what? You’ll make it work. Smart, creative people always do. And you’re one of the smartest, most creative people I know. I mean, when do artistic things ever really totally fall apart? Almost never, right? Talented, creative people use those moments, like a frog on a pond getting a leaf blown into his face – just cling on to the leaf and steer it home. You still get where you were headed, it’s just, sometimes you have to take an unexpected detour down a road that’s strewn with only happy accidents. It might be hairy at the time, but if making art is easy, you’re doing it wrong.

I hope that hasn’t put ideas in your head about things going wrong. I sought only to highlight these things to prove how powerless they are to those with the skills to weld them like weapons. And anyway, it’s all going to go great. So, sleep soundly tonight, knowing that you’re Elizabeth Fucking Ditty, and that tomorrow, you’re going to tip some of that magic that lives inside your head out into the world, and that’s all there is to it.

And instead of good luck, I’m going to say – have fun. Among all the stress, rush and panic, try to find moments of enjoyment. Revel in the situation you find yourself in – a situation of your making. Art out of nothing. A situation, people, moments; all out of nothing, because you dreamed it up, and because you made it happen.

And hurry up and get it on Youtube so I can watch it.

–Stuart

In the midst of what is admittedly a bit of a rough season of life (I guess they must come around from time to time), I really can’t properly say how grateful I am for the encouragement and support of all kinds.

To my family & friends helping out this weekend, THANK YOU.

To the people (like Danny Stack, who’s just debuted the final episode of his fun little webseries, Liquid Lunch) who have taken on these sorts of creative challenges and are so generous in sharing what they’ve learned along the way, THANK YOU.

To my friends (like Matt, who writes fiction as well as insightful, humorous and sometimes infuriating things about movies, and Stuart, who writes books and blog posts and various other dark and amusing things) who are always supporting my creative fancies, THANK YOU.

You all are awesome.  Really.