Writers...Write. Right?

"' How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.

Henry David Thoreau.

I told a writer the name of my blog. And not just a self professed writer.

But one that matters. A successful 30 something writer of a hit television show, banging out clever scripts from her West Coast office. A writer who flew in to sit on set for line change consulting.

A writer making a living.

I regretted it immediately.

Maybe it's because I'd been standing in for the last 72 hours for an actress mastering her craft and honing her skills.

Standing up in the camera's eyes, so the marks are made and the lighting is just right for another fair skinned blond headed heart whose passion is coming to fruition.

Could be, I opened up my writing for critique because I've been standing on the hard subway platforms to stand on the moving trains, to stand on Grand Central's marble floor while the wasted hiked up their short skirts and took pictures of a grey Ted Danson in strange adoration, while I propped myself up against set dressings wagon.

Or possibly I told her because it is the exact swift kick in the ass I need to knock me into the world I wish to dwell, inside my head and on paper.

“Write while the heat is in you. The writer who postpones the recording of his thoughts uses an iron which has cooled to burn a hole with. He cannot inflame the minds of his audience.”

Henry David Thoreau.

I'm sorry I've digressed. I have poured myself into a money making frenzy and mind numbing recovery, such that I've lost my grip on self expression. And the passage of time.

I've been standing up to live in this city, but not sitting down enough to write.

This will change.