November 30, 2014, by James
What it feels like to see your work performed.
I am standing on the hill below Portland viciously swearing at ducks. “Get out of the shot, stupid wildfowl, no no I haven’t got any bread… when I move my hands like this it means shoo not ‘I’m spreading breadcrumbs’. Stop it.”
Three minutes later and the ducks have won so we reposition a bit to the left. Apparently the list of things that wait for no man now reads:
Some context, I’m having a short sketch of mine filmed for NSTV, it’s nothing really, the kind of background dalliance that would reach 30 hits on YouTube before being forgotten by all but the NSA. Except this time I’m getting it in professionally filmed so it has some actual actors and the NSA gets it in 1080p (I hope this makes up for all the Regicide, again, so sorry lads… y’know how New Years can be).
It is weird watching your own work come out of other people’s mouths. It’s very nerve racking. Being a comedy sketch my work has some jokes in it and, being me, not all of them are funny. As I hear my script read out my mood is going up and down more than a bi-polar yo-yo. My particular favourite is the “The director just laughed but I definitely didn’t write a joke there” experience. I’ve come to the conclusion that either my script is so good it has uprooted the very concept of comedy and the word ‘the’ is now sufficient to cause hysterics or that the woman in charge is so depressed by it she has long since retreated to her happy place. My writerly pretensions will allow no middle ground.
(Sketch will follow after it has gone through editing)
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