Five Good Hours

Yesterday afternoon, I pushed everything else out of the way for a while -- reading, the wife, life, the Mets (who weren't on until later) -- and drove to a coffee shop, armed with a very rough copy of my supernatural thriller.

And there I sat, for five hours, totally immersed in my script. Page by page, pen marking, correcting, cutting, cutting, cutting. Feeling the script; what needed to go, what needed to be hammered home a little more, what needed to be dropped in.

Chopping out the repetitive and the extraneous, and bidding it a fond adieu.

Five hours, and it felt like 90 minutes.

I love when that happens. When I'm so involved in something that time just flies by, yet I'm getting something accomplished.

Last night, I got on my laptop, and started typing in all the changes. I finished this morning.

This draft is down to a tight 115 pages. It's almost there, I think. I can't tell, because my brain hurts.

But nothing beats being able to carve out the time to really curl up with your script, in one, solid, long sitting.

That the Mets won, and are moving on, and the Yankees lost, and are done for the year, is just gravy :-)