Why I Shouldn’t Put Emails Before Creativity.

I’m  a dribbeling mess of incomprehension staring at the computer screen,  reading the ERROR message, again.  My battle plan to retrieve my email goes like this:  Press send and receive . And the result? Another error message!!  Press again. It comes up again. Think a little about all the things I could do to
solve the email programmes  problem and press again. And there it is staring at me The Error Message. My life is one big ERROR FREAKIN MESSAGE. One big burning shoot hole of bilious error messages. My life is a herd of error messages charging through a country called ERROR.   I’m like homer simpson trying to get the cans of beer that have because of some preposterous series of vents have become tangled around a pylons electric wire –  he climbs up it and reaches for the cans, each time he touches them  he gets electrocuted. But he continues, – Doh! – until the entire towns power is short circuited and plunged into darkness.  That entire town is my head and the beer cans are the computer. And my circuits are exploding every time I press……. OUCH!!… the… OUCH!!!…send and receive …FREAKIN OUCH!!!! ….button …”EYAGHH”.

This is why you shouldn’t look at  emails in the morning before creative morning writing! This is the reason. This is what I tell other people in workshops. Why can’t I take my own advice! I am a worthless piece of defunct computer programming. .   I decide that La Bouche, my fave cafe,  is the only answer.  I take a script for a radio play to read. I have been asked to write the twenty five minutes of narration throughout this damned play. And the turn around is pretty quick and I might not like it etither.   It’s called Lost Boys Of Africa. It’s a sunshine
day  (so what!!)  and I am now sat outside the café on a table and as if by magic  the computer error becomes  a thing of the past and I am absolutely embroiled in the script. The script  is actual dialogue by two men. It’s a docu drama.  The only indication of my involvement are sections of script marked NARRATOR. I am speechless by the end of the script and call the producer immediately. “Yes, I tell her. I’ll do it. I’d love to do it”.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *