sun's "pregnancy"

so, last week i was watching LOST and wondered what had happened to Sun's pregnancy. this week, it's the storyline. but, look at her. seriously. pregnant? it's insulting to every pregnant woman i know. i'm sure that there are women who gain no weight until after, say, 8 weeks, but Sun is supposedly farther along than that, and she shows no puffiness, she's always working (suggesting that she is not tired), . . . it's insulting. that's sort of what you get when the writers make up the central conceit as they go (and maybe this is the best method; it's become a refrain at our house, "they're making this shit up as they go." we talk like that. cause we're so street. ha. ha). i honestly believe that just as viewers are trying to figure it out, so too are the writers. and that too is a little insulting . . . but not so much. i hear often about how novelists and screenwriters create these plans for stories and then execute them masterfully. but i hear much more often that the story begins w/ a simple image or concept, "and then i write." it's always felt like the right way to go, although i have maybe 4 incomplete screenplays still languishing because of it (or, um, it's my fear of failure, my laziness. name it). my latest attempt is moving along, so i'm happy about that. we'll see . . . but it has to emerge . . . and i can't force it. sometimes, i really do wake up and write on whatever's at the bedside . . . cryptic code like "she wants curtains from Kmart, but . . . [scribbled mess i can't make out] . . . " or maybe there's just a word: "sea urchin" . . . or . . . "potatoe". . . or. . . "undulate," . . . these are the "keywords." mike and i like to try to remember our dreams. so, when we wake, we ask each other for keywords. whoever is the most awake gets up to write them down, and, hopefully, they will provide the magic that will enable us to recall the dream. sometimes it works, but even when it doesn't, it's always funny or bizarre or enchanting , . . . the language we carry up out of our dreams . . .

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