Part deux of a journal slash diary about the filmmaking process.
  1. The script is never done.
    I will edit this Final Draft document until the day I die or when I shoot this scene.
  2. Watching phenomenal movies leaves me feeling largely inadequate.
    But how exactly did Andrea Arnold capture authenticity so beautifully in American Honey? How does she work? I have so many questions for so many of the directors I admire - about their processes, the way in which they work with actors, how they prepare a scene.
  3. It's not a real thing until you're on set and even then it might all be on the verge of falling apart.
    Welcome to independent filmmaking where nothing is certain and/or ever guaranteed!
  4. I start thinking about what I'll do "after" as if "after" is even a real thing.
    There is no "after" - there is only the now. There are so many things I've put on hold for this film.
  5. My life feels on hold.
    Everything has come to a grinding halt until I enter pre-production. Nothing else matters. It feels like I'm in a time warp and everyone else is moving on and having major life events going on and the only thing I've been talking about for the last year and a half has been this film. Am I even a real person?
  6. Time is not a real thing.
    I start to think of all the hours I've put into reading scripts, watching movies, revising, thinking, breathing and living this script. It must be thousands of hours by now.
  7. The future feels very uncertain.
    And unknowable. I don't know what happens "after".
  8. I miss my former co-workers at
    A nice perk of having a real day job is being able to interact with other humans. Because I'm the writer and director on this film, and we haven't yet entered pre-production, I'm alone an awful lot.
  9. I want my slate.
    So it feels real.
  10. If you're not documenting the process of making a film, you're not really making one.
    Just kidding.