I'd planned to spend the whole day today working on my treatment. Then I found out last night that a freelance video editing job I'm working on needs a quick turnaround—it's due tonight. So instead I spend the whole day today working on that.
Halfway through the afternoon we receive a reminder email from our supervisor that two scenes from our scripts are due in class tomorrow for a workshop with actors. Terrifying (I thought they weren't due until Friday).
Finishing the job and cooking dinner takes me through until late. I'm not in the mood to write. I go for a walk up the road, buy a 7eleven hot chocolate and listen to a screenwriting podcast. It's fascinating, and when I get home all I want to do is keep listening.
It's 11:00pm now and I'm still half listening to the podcast as I sit down at my laptop. I open my treatment and start scanning through it, reminding myself of where I got up to yesterday, trying to decide which two scenes to work on tonight.
And then, a scene that was half-fleshed out crystallises. Something thunks into place and suddenly it's like I can see the whole thing clearly. It's electrifying—my film is there in all the masses of disparate fragments and thematic questions I've been wading through.
That sweet moment of breakthrough. I turn off the podcast.