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We all died, morally, symbolically, emotionally once in our real life. We’ve been crashed, sometimes by terrible events, sometimes by a sort of invisible hand of evil over our destinies. From now on, let’s write beautiful pages of a unique masterpiece that is called : Our life.
It could be easy to blame it on education, as it is commonly admitted. Blame it on parents, on culture, on social traditions. On individual limits or psychological flaws. On shyness and personal weakness.
Thruth, it seems to me, is that it relates to so much deeper layers of the human and animals minds.
If you are an artist, chances are you are a perfectionnist, an obsessed soul always in search of gold. Well, I am. So let’s celebrate together a simple truth : we’ll never get a hundred per cent satisfied. Nothing we’ll ever write will meet all of our expectations.
Some might, a few lines and pages may pass the cut, and even bear the test of time. But so few indeed. So let’s open our eyes once for all on this.
The screenwriting litterature is abundant in saying all screnwriters should hone their craft by reading and writing.
And this of course, every single day of a somehow strange life. Write every day for sure. Read every day : fiction books, newspaper, scripts, good and bad, more books from classicals to contemporary, read all formats, train your reading muscles.
But the biggest skill of all, and this one I never see underlined in these books, is to read what you write.