All right.
I will tell you.
This log is, yes, barely alive.
People want to know why...
...so here's an ungodilily explanation.
Were I in the mood, I might have regaled you with a tale of another tragi-comic Factory day where idle, incompetent or insecure people (sometimes all three at once) made life a misery for journalists who bear the consequences of their decisions.
Others had a more cheerful time.
Instead, on the insistent recommendation of the Kid -- who on October 31 wrote a meditation on death on her own 'belcatja2' blog (Fr.) after seeing it -- I watched 'The Hours' (IMDb). Then agreed with people who, for a range of reasons, found it an excellent film.
Some reviews at the IMDb reminded me that it's not, after all, such a bad place for thoughtful write-ups.
The movie was rather intense. I had one or two problems with the "life or death" choices involved, based on an outlook I understand but don't share, the ending struck me as okay but a little contrived, but a fabulous cast were well directed with a very solid script and I found Philip Glass's score plus one of Richard Strauss's songs just right.
The IMDb can seem awful if you've seen a bunch of good movies dealing with themes and ideas that some of the Americans who make up the majority of "contributors" like to believe don't exist, or worse, are real life but unspeakable or "morally" unacceptable and indefensible on screen.
For instance, 'The Human Stain'.
What's going on with me is simple.
Something important happened by accident which took a formerly frequent blogger back to what'll do for the root "causes" of the bouts of depression, loathing of winter and other hassles which dogged me for almost all of my life.
One day maybe -- since sometimes it seems the description of the downers as well as some of the highs and wackier moments on 'taliesin's log' are what pleases -- I'll tell my own story of going to hell and back again. It was for real this time, horrible and immensely valuable.
This is with the help of friends, colleagues, foes and the Shrinkess, who's "successful" because she's a smart woman who doesn't believe in methods. I guess she threw the textbooks away on deciding she'd take what she needed from whomever she fancied and leave all the formula-mongering "schools" of shrinkdom to rot.
It's silly, perhaps, to get past your 49th birthday before you realise that the idea is to listen to other people and then simply suggest how they might deal with their problems, either because you've been there yourself or because you understand them.
It's almost never your job to tell them what to do and when you think it is, explanations are required, irrespective of age.
Let's leave serial killers and genocidal maniacs out of it, since I'm talking about those some still insist on telling me are "normal" people.
This log has shown how to make a mess of your life and other people's, while finding out that the more you tell others gruesome truths about what a mess you're making (without, if possible, boring them senseless), the happier they feel about trusting you with their own dreadful stories.
Everybody now knows I've one rule left for friendship, because the others proved senseless: betrayal is the only mortal sin in my book.
Here are the real answers to two questions now being asked.
No, you may not know more of who the woman is.
Yes, I've written increasingly often about movies and music because I'm re-listening and re-watching, going as far behind the scenes as I can with the help of an iPod, DVDs acquired in terrifying numbers, a Mac and well-informed friends and acquaintances.
She "won".
Along with everybody else who encouraged me to go further than the ephemera of journalism and the pleasures of blogging.
The "project" has taken enough shape, form and substance to say I'm writing a screenplay.
The central theme among several is the most intriguing paradox I've discovered we all live every day. To tell you what that is would be a spoiler.
The film isn't about me or anybody I know, but inevitably draws on my experience and those of people who've marked my life and often remain the most precious thing I've got.
The story's a riddle, a thriller, often (I hope) funny and deals with emotions and relationships I've wanted to write about for years. I've rarely achieved more than unfinished bits because I've not felt the confidence or the maturity to handle the main people and topics in an entertaining and original way.
The hardest bit of writing a film, I'm finding, is less learning the techniques of good screenplay layout than understanding where you, as a writer, must leave off and hand over to people you hope to end up working with on the project.
Since I'm not even going to tell you the working title of this adventure, you could regard it as my X-Files. But different.
Don't expect to hear anything more about it soon. While it's hard work and fun, it will take me ages. Hours of script have wound up happily trashed because it can take several attempts to understand my characters as they develop lives of their own.
If I stay on track, let the people behave like real people, and hold the bits together, I might have something worth writing more about in, say, six months' time.
People say what I'm doing is ambitious, which is true. Some special people have been a great help with it already.
I try to help with their own projects when they get blocked. It often boils down to reassurance that it doesn't matter when you get bogged down, because when you are on the right track, your "material" tends to get unstuck of its own accord if you sleep on it a few times.
If I now disclose what I'm doing, it's because getting unstuck was a two-fold gift to me which opened the door to all this ... and now I've told enough people about it I have less choice.
I have to get on with it.
See you around.
12:02:56 AM link 
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