clear this writer's bloc

Hymie Mitzbaum, a screenwriter living in Paris is speaking to Barney Panofsky in this passage.They are both strapped for cash. So, Hymie comes up with an idea:

"We're going to write a screenplay together."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not a writer, Hymie."

"There's a hundred and fifty big ones in it for us, split two ways. Hey, wait a minute. I mean one third for you, two thirds for me. what do you say?"

Once we settled into work on the script, Hymie would rip scenes out of my typewriter and read them over on the phone to a former mistress in Paris, a cousin in Brooklyn, his daughter or his agent. "Now you listen to this, its fabulous." If the reaction wasn't what he expected, he would counter," It's only a first draft and I did tell Barney it wouldn't work. He's a novice, you know." His cleaning lady's opinion was solicited; he consulted his analyst, handed out pages to waitresses, and made revisions based on their criticisms. He would charge into my bedroom at four a.m. and shake me awake."I just had a brilliant idea. Come." Slurping ice cream out of a bucket retrieved from the fridge, he would stride up and down in his boxer shorts, scratching his groin, and begin to dictate. "This is Academy Award stuff. Bulletproof." But the next morning, rereading what he had dictated, he would say,"Barney, this is a piece of shit. Now let's get serious today."