My Dad died.
It was unexpected, and tragic. I'm not really prepared to write about it yet - however, it bears mention as I try to get back on the horse here.
Finding comedy while living tragedy is tough. I'm not always a funny writer when blogging, but when I write script, comedy is my focus. When life as I knew it came to a crashing halt on July 8th - so did my writing.
Every day, I sit down - I stare at the page. Every writer experiences this, but this time it's more than just a dry spell. It's a subconscious creative revolt. It's my brain refusing to process what's happened. It terrifies me to think, "What if I was staffed right now? What if people were counting on me? Or paying me? What if it was my OWN show?"
I'm not an irresponsible person by any means. I've had tragedy in my life before, and managed to keep the plates spinning regardless.
This is different. My Dad was a writer. He inspired me to write. He was the best damn story editor I had.
One small blog post. One word in front of the other. One small step in what will likely prove to be a long creative rehabilitation.
It's a tall horse to climb back up on.
