I Take It All Back

Yesterday I quoted Brad Goreski saying “Cute does not pay the bills” and while I totally understand that, in my heart of hearts I just don’t believe it.  (Susan pointed it out tonight as well, just as we were about to enter a Fragrance Fest –– more on that soon).
I do think Brad is very talented but let’s face it:  he’s super-cute and that’s part of what’s got him a TV series (and a Hollywood TV A-list boyfriend and home).
Let’s be honest –– looks may not be everything, but cuteness IS.
Belle is the most enlightened creature in the known universe, but not a day goes by that 40 people don’t say, “What a beautiful dog!”
I rest my case.
But there’s more I must share:
Today I cleaned like a madman, just so I could start writing again.
In fact, I defrosted the fridge so I could have ice cubes because I really feel I can’t/shouldn’t/daren’t write anything “serious” without a solid tumbler of scotch.  [I have always felt that wine relaxes me, but scotch makes me wise.]
I finished my preparations in time for a scent party at my new San Francisco friend Yosh’s pad.  She is a fragrance goddess and while there was a moment where I felt dizzy and headache-y with all the scents surrounding me, I’m thrilled I have a packet of 7 unisex samplers to try.
Incredibly delicious Japanese dinner with Susan and Belle at Umami.
And then home in time to talk briefly with Dan while exploring the next stage of refrigerator defrosting, namely rushing to the laundromat to dry wet towels before they closed.
And then –– at 10 pm –– after 12 hours of preparation, I was ready to begin writing.
[Note:  Dan feels I am procrastinating but he is SO SO SO wrong;  everything I’m doing is necessary and vital and essential.  This process is as delicate as launching a space shuttle.]
I shut off all unnecessary lights.  I pour myself a tumbler of scotch (ice purchased earlier at Safeway since we are still defrosting and thus 3 bags of ice are resting outside the cottage in a plastic bag).
I always start with Simone Dinnerstein’s astonishing recording of the Goldberg Variations, centering myself during the first aria (so beyond anything…) … and thus I have begun.
Specifically, taking 358 pages of novel and turning them into a 120 page screenplay.
In some ways, I have resisted this (despite my own Inner Knowing and the wise advice of LLS long ago) for a while for two reasons:
1.  It feels mechanical, like drudge-work.  IE, I am re-creating scenes I have already written, and a narrative I have already structured.  Rather than creating afresh, it’s sort of like becoming an accountant.
2. Conversely, it feels like climbing another massive mountain, yet another Sisyphus-like artistic challenge, epic and daunting –– and I mean that about the road to production, not creatively.
And yet –– thanks to the wisdom that comes with drinking scotch –– I realize that:
1.  This is incredibly easy.  I have structured this book with the film in mind and that the drudgery part should take … a few hours.  Maybe a few days?  [You can slap me if you want.]
2.  I am handing this in to the most important casting person in Hollywood and a best-picture Oscar winning producer in a month.  Everyone’s really into this and will be thrilled that I’ve moved forward so quickly on spec.  I.E. so I guess it’s not the world’s HIGHEST mountain in this case.  [You can slap me again if you need to.]
And, after a bit of a brawl with Final Draft Pro –– they won’t let you add Scene Header notes in the Index Card view until you’ve titled your first scene in the script itself;  this is actually a bizarre and frustrating and inexplicable weirdness to those of us who begin with structure first and foremost –– I have now outlined 23 scenes covering 60 pages of the novel.
And now at 11:29, I simply need to publish this post, empty the full tray of defrosted ice-water, refresh my glass, and continue onward towards my own epilogue.
I am now officially once again on my way.