Ask: I’m not too familiar with this stereotype myself, but can anyone who’s taken film classes or known people who’ve gone to film school confirm if film majors or graduates have the constant urge to analyze any and all pieces of media they come across (perhaps to an annoying degree at times)?
Share: Write night this week was nice. The two people who didn’t show up last week thankfully showed up this week, and my blond friend was one of them. The thirty-year-old friend wasn’t able to make it, which was rare. It had been a while since we had seen each other, so we did a little bit of catching up prior to the event. The prompt of the night was to write about something that was falling apart after years of heavy usage, and I wrote about a pair of sweatpants that were so loose that they would fall off even after tightening and retying the drawstrings 
After write night, we talked for a bit while packing up and heading home. I headed out early too, not only because I was running on only a few hours of sleep that day—about three or four hours, I think?—but also because I wanted to talk with the blond friend a little more, since our routes overlap.
We talked a bit about life and a bit about our writing progress. He had completed two whole chapters 
meanwhile, I was struggling to put words out 
the conversation topic pivoted to our thirty-year-old writer friend.
I admitted that since the last reading exchange with the thirty-year-old friend, I had been having doubts about my writing, some of which were old doubts that basically resurfaced with the comments he gave. I also vented about how it was a bit frustrating because I had explicitly said that I didn’t want to receive critiques yet and that I was looking for something casual, yet the guy simply couldn’t contain his urge to give criticism despite my several statements. It’s gotten to the point where it’s affecting how I see the character, as well as how the character in my head sees himself.
After I told him that, the blond friend admitted that—while it is judgmental of him—he notices that film majors tend to be hyper-analytical about things, sometimes to a fault. We both agreed that it was a probably a product of the style of instruction given at film school. Thankfully for us, we were both very much on the same page regarding the reading exchanges.
Speaking of which, I asked him if he would be up for another one sometime. Unfortunately, while he would like another one, he said that he will be busy this month since he’ll be hosting people at his apartment. He did say that he would let me know if he was free for a reading session. I honestly can’t wait for the next one.
As for the thirty-year-old friend, I’m contemplating bringing the issue up with him next time. The egotistical writer in me wants my story to be read, but at the same time, I might have to stop things if he doesn’t get the memo. I’ll see. He did say that he’s gotten more invested in the story after the two latest chapters, which were slower and more slice-of-life-ish, and he said he wanted to support other writers—let’s see how things pan out.
Progress: I was unfortunately stuck on Chapter LXII. I think I’ve only added a few sentences to it. On the bright side, I was able to add more than 500 words to Chapter LXIII! 
I can’t remember the previous word count, but the current word count is a little over 1100 words.
Oh, and I’ve also finally finished writing my latest sonnet, like tempered glass, the latest upload to sonnets from a silent heart. It’s been roughly two years since I last updated the book 
oh, and shortly after I uploaded it, this one reader who had read all the previous sonnets voted on it 
that was really nice to see.
Maybe Matt and Cassie could be in this club. Maybe Harrison and Drake are also part of it. Maybe it’s a history club with reenactments.
It’s just fascinating stuff. Maybe Bethany has all these personalities she’s learned to do, and finds herself resorting to them sometimes. So, irl, she’s acting. “I need to be assertive like Victoria from Scene 1“ or something like that. Because of this, she doesn’t feel like her friends are her real friends.
So I’m trying to pace myself, but man, it’s different writing death when you’ve actually had personal experience with it… It’s why I’ve avoided cleaning up my grief poetry because I know it’s gonna hurt…
