At last the UCF portfolio for February has been completed, printed, bound and posted. Working on it has been a bit like running a marathon: tense, engrossed, pacing the emotions, alert to the slightest alien mark on the paper. Is everything included? Are all the page numbers in order? Will both copies fit in one envelope? Will the package be too big for Royal Mail? Is this my better side...?
It's not like having won the marathon; it has yet to be marked and yet the adrenaline is still flowing. What do I do next? What further project can occupy me so intensely? Will I go mad if I can't find something – anything – else?
I sit and watch television, but the only thing playing are scenes from my script and odd fragments from the accompanying critical rationale. This is the worst that can happen: I don't want to see my mistakes floating before me uninvited; the damned thing's gone, now, and it's too late to put it right. If it's wrong, then tough!
I know what's happening – and I know I had better get used to it.
And then the words of Blake Snyder come to me, "it is what it is", and I realise it's time to leave that story alone: don't think about it; pretend it belongs to someone else.
Now it's time to sit back, relax and make up for all those weeks sweating over the (unmentionable) story. But within five minutes another idea is taking shape...
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