The Encampment Diaries – Those Bad Days


Those Bad Days


It’s been a while…

Oh lordy has it been a while.


The thing about making something by yourself is that you have to be proactive and ready to do things. The thing about me is my mind is in a constant battle to try and do things, when it also wants to hide away and do nothing because it is nothing, and my body is in a constant pain to boot, making everything so fucking hard to get out of bed, let alone try and make things.

Distractions bring small, fleeting relief, but the long game is still yet to be figured out. I’m a fucking mess, I hate it, and it sucks. Is this permanent? Probably. Should I figure out a successful way to keep fighting things? Of course. Will I? Blowed if I know.


Thankfully between times I have recorded a third of the protagonist’s voice lines, my lead actor has devoted some time to help out, thank goodness for that. And I briefly met my other lead actor, snippets of progress.


My mind has focussed on other projects, not only a release of a stupid-big Star Wars script made as a joke to a friend, but with real commitment, no bullshit, and a weekly podcast where I get to unleash the most Andrew things. Prepping for a writing holiday in the summer with a co-writer on a project has also been a bit of a pickle, but has got me back into working on another script. And then some back-and-forths with former writing teams on Facebook has stupidly started up a new endeavour. I’m never short of concepts, just the agony and the ecstacy is pretty brutal a balance.


It’s tough to make things that are intrinsically you when you hate everything you are, but who else are you making stories for at the end of the day? If you don’t come from an honest, earnest place, everything is hollow and devoid of reason, it’s something that exists, but doesn’t live, and a storyteller wants their work to live, to rise, to react and create into others something deep.

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