Writer’s Block: myth or truth? No idea. I’ve never had it.

Then again, I’ve never had bubonic plague. Just because I’ve never had it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

(Mind you, I don’t think that Writer’s Block can be caught off fleas.)

Still, last night I sat down to write and bugger me if I couldn’t get the words down onto the page in anything like a satisfactory way.

I’m at the Diving into a Cold Swimming Pool moment that lives between the end of planning a script and the blank, ugly stare of an empty Final Draft window.

Last night I stared into the face of Final Draft and blinked first.

I know all about first drafts, okay? Dash it off, just write the sodding thing. Get to the end, start again, throw 90% out of the window, doesn’t matter, you’re on the road. I know all that.

Still, I couldn’t proceed. I’ve probably been planning this one for too long.

It’s a bit like rehearsing an opening phrase in your head before approaching a useful new contact at a networking event. By the time you’re face to face with Mrs Important Person you’re gabbling like a coked-up loon and the well-practiced words are slipping down the inside leg of your trousers and into your sweaty shoes like greasy fried eggs.

It doesn’t do to over-plan.

So I shut the laptop and called it a night.

Best thing I could have done by far. As I went to sleep the old grey matter was churning in an unpredictable way, throwing up the dust and stones of less-travelled neural pathways.

This morning, on the way to work, an utterly new story popped into my head. A perfect little short film script, ten or so minutes in duration.

Just the very ticket.

This lunchtime I turned the scribbled notes (made at rest, not whilst driving, officer) into a first draft script. It got more wonderfuller in the writing, which is always a joyous thing.

So, you can chalk me up one short film script to the good. It’s called Witchcat. I’ll tell you more about it when it’s had the corners knocked off it and been buffed up to a decent sheen.

Now I can head back to what I was meant to be writing last night and just get the hell on with it.

In other news, today I are mostly have been listening to Zooropa. That’s the suburb of U2 where my musical taste house is.