The Hospital Job
I've got to write a spec by tomorrow night, and really, I've only got the first act mapped out. But if Whedon and Minear can write "The Train Job" in a weekend, I can certainly do this, much less masterful and important, script.
Though it has to be terribly kick-ass, if it is to serve its purpose.
And then I can get back to more original work next week.
Last night I actually got off the lot at a reasonable hour, so I stopped by LittleSister's place to give her her present: Season One of the OC. Ah, when things were good. She's enjoying every bit of it now. I definitely see another marathon in my future, when she's finished with them.
Then I went to my editor's apartment. Now I realize I have three editors, one in NY, two here. But this is the cute, young-ish, though certainly wise, one. Who cooks. The plan was to chill out and maybe watch someting, but we ended up talking for hours, and it was really...necessary. She's wonderful. So what was meant to be a girls' night turned into her burning me cds and generaly soothing my mental unhealth with her particular mix of empathy and pragmatism. She is a treasure to me, truly.
Slept too much, quick jaunt to the bookstore, and now on with the writing, because I have to make an appearance at a theatre party tonight. *Holds aloft cheap bottle of wine.*
Though it has to be terribly kick-ass, if it is to serve its purpose.
And then I can get back to more original work next week.
Last night I actually got off the lot at a reasonable hour, so I stopped by LittleSister's place to give her her present: Season One of the OC. Ah, when things were good. She's enjoying every bit of it now. I definitely see another marathon in my future, when she's finished with them.
Then I went to my editor's apartment. Now I realize I have three editors, one in NY, two here. But this is the cute, young-ish, though certainly wise, one. Who cooks. The plan was to chill out and maybe watch someting, but we ended up talking for hours, and it was really...necessary. She's wonderful. So what was meant to be a girls' night turned into her burning me cds and generaly soothing my mental unhealth with her particular mix of empathy and pragmatism. She is a treasure to me, truly.
Slept too much, quick jaunt to the bookstore, and now on with the writing, because I have to make an appearance at a theatre party tonight. *Holds aloft cheap bottle of wine.*