(Not to be confused with my school program of the same name about doing research.) Ordinarily I enjoy research. It’s a time of discovery, when the shape of a book comes together. However, the book I’m currently plodding through–and I do mean PLODDING–is less than exciting. I have read FBI documents that have more pizzazz. It is 300 pages in length, and I’m about half-way through it. I keep thinking, “Maybe if I skip ahead . . .” Except the researcher in me won’t allow this because just as soon as I did, I’d miss something that will shine in my own book; I’ll miss the juicy part that will make the research worthwhile. Still, it would be easier to follow and more interesting to read if it weren’t written as a screenplay, with camera directions and acting prompts.
CLOSE SHOT. WRITER. AT CLUTTERED DESK. SEPTEMBER, 2015.
(sighing.–staring at book which he lifts)
Why do I do this to myself?