ScriptSuperhero.com

If anyone asked me how I prefer to write, I’d describe a great, cherrywood desk to hold my PC setup and a deep, lush leather office chair with heat and massage functions. That’s how I’d like it to be.

Here’s the reality: for the past year I’ve written 90 percent or more of my stuff stretched out on my bedroom floor, only a pillow between my stomach and cheap shag. It’s not always comfortable. In fact, I get a sore neck sometimes from doing it this way.

But it’s the only arrangement I have right now, and it works: I’ve launched seven of my eight blogs from this position, as well as writing my soon-to-be-published piece in a Jack the Ripper magazine to be named soon.

When I get down here on the floor like this, it may not be comfortable, but at least I know I mean business.

I wonder sometimes if something like animal print bedding is what inspired the book Where the Wild Things Are. The Maurice Sendak children’s picture book classic is a part of most US children’s youngest memories and sometimes I like to think about what inspired such classics.

I imagine a young, imaginative Sendak cozying up in his bed, his young mind a bit too active to sleep and staring in the half-light allowed in by a nearby street light, staring down at his bedding and imagining it come to life as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

Worth a thought.

It doesn’t take home theater chairs to get comfortable enough to be creative, but it sure can be a nice luxury. I know I write a lot better and a lot longer when I’m comfortable, and I doubt I’m alone on that count.

But different body positions can work, also. For the past year or so, I’ve written most of my blog posts laying flat on the floor in my bedroom, a pillow separating my stomach from the run, staring straight-on at a floor-level monitor, my keyboard directly in front of me.

Might seem a bit odd, and it can lead to the occasional sore neck, but I’ve adjusted and when I get myself down in this position, I know I’m here to accomplish one clear goal: to write. A lot.

Tonight, I re-watched the classic family comedy Meet the Parents with my wife. Or, at least, I re-watched most of it.

In my memory, it was the cat jokes and the tense relationship between Ben Stiller and Robert DiNiro that I remembered and stuck with me in this comedy about how awkward it can be to meet your future in-laws. I was shocked at how casually a PG-13-rated comedy tossed around foul language, however.

My wife and I have a three-strike rule. We’ll tolerate most cursing, but if the movie takes the name of God in a curse, we’ll only tolerate it two times. On the third use, it goes off… right away, no matter how close the end may be. It’s a reasonable rule of thumb that works well for us.

Meet the Parents didn’t make it the whole way, but what struck me was how casually it was inserted, in situations where such a strong expression wasn’t even motivated. Now, I’m not saying that Hollywood should ban all cursing, but as writers, are we really that limited these days in our vocabulary?

I hope not. Whether it’s drama or comedy, I hope there are still writers out there who have the golf balls to avoid the easy way out and find a better way for characters to express frustration in a real and believable way, without muddying up what otherwise is a chaste and wholesome family comedy like Meet the Parents.

It used to be that if you were a writer, one thing you didn’t have to worry about was outdoor lighting. Now, with the world turning increasingly from laptops, palmtops and even keyboard-equipped cell phones as tools to express themselves creatively, writers are no longer limited to being strictly “indoors” people when they practice their craft.

Of course, this shift simply allows us creative types to enjoy something folks like Henry Thoreau enjoyed a couple hundred years ago, which is the freedom to write about anything wherever he was. Of course, H.D. never had to worry about running low on batteries with his high-tech tools of trade: a pencil and a pad of paper.

How do Luminox watches really work underwater? Do they keep on tickin’ like a Timex? Do they fail at a certain depth? How would they fail if taken to that depth?

Seem unrelated to writing? That’s just the thing, and the theme of my posts today. Anything you learn can eventually be useful.

Knowing when and under what conditions a Luminox watch might fail, if it fails, and how it would fail could be the absolute key to solving the crime in your spec script for an episode of MONK or PSYCH. Something that specialized, knowledge that takes some research, could make your script stand out from the pile and secure you that Hollywood script agent contract you’ve been longing for.

Never be afraid to learn, even about mundane things like watches.

While Ingersoll Rand air tools aren’t of any work-related use to most writers, it never hurts to acquire knowledge; it can help writers out of some pretty unusual spots.

Take, for example, the writing of a legal comedy, like My Cousin Vinny. A classic film that featured Joe Pesci and Marisa Tomei, the whole movie hinged on having very specific knowledge of traction systems used in cars of a particular era of make and model.

A young person who wants to grow up to be a writer often focuses on reading to the exclusion of many of the other things life has to offer. But that can lead to fiction that merely imitates the work of others. What makes each writer unique are the things they know about that perhaps no one else who is a writer knows.

Most writers are familiar with this piece of advice: write what you know.

A less common, but equally-useful bit of advice is this: seek to know A LOT. Who knows? One day, your best published or produced work might just hinge on what you learn today about Ingersoll Rand air tools.