I lied. Again.

Could not sleep for a panic attack. Not even sure what caused it, but the shaking was ungodly distracting and my mind and heart were racing. Knew sleep wasn't happening. Had a bowl of potatoes [you've got me] and some coffee, and opted to put some time into the screenplay [Re: The Trendsetter].

Page count stands at 61 pages. And I've typed the "[THE END]," though I'm going to admit there is probably going to be another 5-10 pages before I call this a draft. Not the 80 I expected it to be [my math is garbage], but still a lot more than the 40 I originally was aiming for.

So, I'm at half-feature length. This makes sweating it back down to a short more likely, but lets wait until I get what I'd consider "first draft" before I make that call. Plus, Kyle still gets a say [he told me a lot about his plans for the script today, still having not seen it, and I may post that in a little bit. We'll see], and I actually have an idea in my head for bringing the protagonist's parents into the film. To do so would take some drastic re-writes, but on the other hand... might be worth. Especially since I begin with a one-off about them, and never revisit it.

The new stuff is good. I mean, I like it, though I'm worried it moves a little fast. We'll see.

I got my first Christmas present in the mail today. I was hoping no one would get me anything, but I can't honestly say I don't like getting presents, and this one was pretty cool.

To understand the significance, you got to understand the sort of story behind the gift. Last year, while I was working at the bookstore, I came across a "Never-find-it-if-you-were-looking" Woody Allen book that was just a big long interview with said famous director. I thought of my friend Ian specifically for it -- he loves Allen, I mean, I do to, but Ian's a huge fan, and at the time he was considering doing this isolation/sleep study, and I figured the man could use something awesome to read while off in dream land. So, even though I really only got to buy for like...half of the people I wanted to last year, Ian got the Woody Allen book by surprise, and not to toot my own horn, but I think he really dug it.

So fast-forward to today, and who should the package in my mailbox be post-marked from other than Ian, and since I was in no way going to wait until Christmas to find out what was inside, I dug in like a six year old on...well, Christmas, and found a book filled with interviews by one of my favorites, and the man this blog is named for -- Dr. Hunter S. Thompson. It's a miracle of my self-control it didn't all get read in one night, and I am writing this here instead of thanking him write away only because I owe him a longer e-mail, and naturally, with the screenplay, I've just yet to get to it. So thank you, Ian. Expect a more personal gesture of gratitude later, of course, but wow. This book is just fucking cool, and plus, coming from Ian, everything from the package to book itself had in-jokes and nice sentiments on it.

Message to anyone who gives me books. Notes are good. I should post what John wrote on the Amazon package he sent me for my "birthday."

Nothing I just wrote should be encouragement for other people to get me something, though.

I should write more here about Thompson sometime. Can't tell you how much I wish he was still alive. If only I'd have gotten to talk to him once... I know it sounds strange, but I feel like he would know, or understand what's bugging me so much these days. And he could tell me something to set me on the right path. Or something. I swear, I look in the mirror, and wish I was looking at him. Imagine it sounds odd... wishing a drug-addled journalist was around to tell me whats best. Should go into greater detail later, but... I guess the short answer is he's just one of my favorite writers. And kind of my hero.

God, I feel wasted. Spent physically, mentally, emotionally, for a variety of reasons. I wonder if I'll be able to get some sleep. Feels like there's still way too much to do with the script, still.

More later. And soon.

1 comments :: I lied. Again.

  1. Pepperidge Farm remembers.