Sunday, December 1, 2013

Charlie Kaufman and J. Alfred Prufrock




One of my favorite scenes in any movie is in Charlie Kaufman’s Adaptation in which the character, Charlie Kaufman, attends Robert McKee’s how-to screenwriting lecture and asks about writing a movie more like real life, where nothing happens, nothing is resolved. I assume everyone can relate to poor Charlie’s question (and, if it’s just me and others like me, at least we’re in great company).

It’s not as if nothing happens in my life; it’s more Prufrockian than that: if I commit it to paper, if I say “I am Lazarus come from the dead, come back to tell you all,” and my readers turn away, “That is not what I meant at all.” then how should I presume to spit out the butt-ends of my days and ways?

Sheer force is the only answer I know. Use ridiculous prompts, sit on the train and write x-number of profiles before I can go home—one I haven’t actually tried, but it’s out there, waiting for me. Charlie and Prufrock sit on either shoulder, no angels and devils here, just the warmth of companions united in fear, self-boredom, and doubt.

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