The Rough Draft

If you can't go through it. Go around it.

You may have noticed as of late that there hasn’t been a whole lot of stuff on the blog about writing.  Part of that is I didn’t have much to say on the subject anymore and the rest of it was as far as I was concerned, me and writing were pretty much a done deal and I was a twelve step program away from curing myself from this horrible affliction for ever.  Of course when you read the success rates statistically of most twelve step programs you see they not really any more successful than other forms of trying to get your life back together.

However, they do say one thing.  “Stop associating with people who allow you to continue your behaviors.”  This will assist in stopping you from back sliding into your old life.  Of course this is tough.  These people are your friends not to mention the hole in your life not doing something you’ve done every day for the last twenty plus years leaves.  And of course deep down inside there a feeling of abandoning your characters with no resolution to their problems.  So in order to fill the gap you blog a little or you still write notes in your ideas book.  You give the day job a little more focus than it needs to fill that time and you catch up on your reading.

Some people you do semi purge from your social circle but not fully, you never know.

When the unexpected knock came at the door, it was almost cliche’.  The gunfighter being asked to do one more job but it doesn’t work like that.  We’ll rewrite the script he’s optioned one more time.  The ending specifically.  I get what he’s saying, I’m not going to be an artiste’ about this, it makes sense to change it.  He has the ability to get it green lit and made.  He as the contacts to dig up a decent cast and in the end it will be a good film, maybe even a really good film.  Then the hard choices will need to be made and that’s the moment I’m worried about.

Because sometimes having a dream come true, really true can be the cruelest cut of all.

But at least I’ll have a film that I can finally point at and say, “Yeah, that one’s mine.” and then I’ll flip my old agent the bird and ride off into the sunset.

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