Journal: Ripped out of Action

I can think of two other reasons why I write journal entries; although, they are probably both tied into the first reason I gave yesterday. Having something to say. The others I basically never try to describe. One of them is just having so much energy left over from the storytelling that I'm fit to burst. Need to find an outlet other than the story I'm trying to commit to paper itself. Really, sometimes you just need to step back from the story in hand and find another outlet. Any old thing to prattle on about. Otherwise you run the risk of the story getting stuck in the gears and burned to cinders by the heat. I would tell you to picture film getting caught in the movie projector, but I don't know if that even happens anymore. I remember film freezing mid-action or whatever and suddenly starting to melt. On the one hand, it's actually kind-of cool to watch happen. On the other, you paid money to see a freaking movie, and there it goes, burning up.

The other is basically the opposite of what I just said. Writing a little nothing just to get the gears moving again. Shed dust. Figure out where to apply the old WD-40. There is a risk here. The kind-of random writing can have too little to do with the story you want to tell. The techniques can be too dissimilar. The trick is guessing when and how to apply the technique. Use it too much and you will get the gyros spinning but only for the kind-of random crap that have been flowing. No help to story at all.

I actually did have more I wanted to prattle on about yesterday, but I made the conscious decision to stop. Let the entry end where it did. Not dwell too much on journal writing in any one go. Have other things to do.