I’m supposed to be writing my pilot episode right now. I mean, this is the time I’ve carved out of working Job A, working Job B, writing for Sketch Show, contributing to Monologue Jokes, and Job Hunting. I started a Footloose Radio on Spotify, not because that’s the tone of the screenplay, but because Footloose and the music of Footloose’s era get me pumped up.
I’m at the coffeeshop. I have a writing buddy in hopes of keeping me honest. I have my beat sheet, my outline, my notes.
So, why am I not writing?
Well, I’m four pages into my sitcom and it’s not funny. Don’t try to get fancy with me. I know I shouldn’t be worrying about that right now, because I can always go back and revise (and I plan on doing just that.) It’s also possible that it’s funnier than what I give it credit for. You know. Possibly. I have a deadline for myself and I will meet it.
But, it’s gotten me thinking on what is it about this that’s going to be funny. I mean, it’s funny when I talk about it. It’s funny in my head. To be honest, I started writing this blog post hoping that I would get in touch with my funny. I mean, guys…we all know how hilarious I am.
Maybe it’s like Girls. It’s too close to reality for me to consider it funny. Maybe I’ve just had a bad week and “allocated time” isn’t what I’m looking for. Oh, and Vitamin C’s Graduation just came on, which is not helpful AT ALL.
I’ve been writing specs and editing things so long, it’s starting to feel like I’m better at helping other people find what they’re trying to say.
Do you ever feel like you can’t feel your funny? What do you do to get in touch with your inner self? Where is my writing Obi Wan-Kenobi telling me to let the hilarity flow through me?
I need a dance break. Catch you guys in five.