So I handed this guy Sean my twenty page script. He sat in the parking lot, in his car, for around a half-hour or so. When he came back out he said nothing, only smiled. I asked if he finished it. He said yeah he did. He really liked it, he said. That’s good, I said. Anything you didn’t like about it that you wanna suggest for the revision? No, he said, I liked it a lot. Good, I said, confident yet strangely let down by his review. I snap a picture of him.

That was an hour ago. He didn’t say much about Rory’s First Kiss; handed me his copy (briefly mine) of Scott Pilgrim Vol. 2, and took off in his Scion, saying the weather was too cold to be hanging out.

Here I am in Diamond Bar, halfway home, outside a coffeeshop sipping hot coffee. Rain drizzled. The two males on the table across say the word Fuck a lot, discussing Timothy Leary and shit that happened that shouldn’t have happened but did, and any recent movies that pissed them off. They’re just the characters I need: angry on a dime and irrational. The script I showed to Sean was practice. All scripts are practice. But that one I burned through in a week and I soaked in a lot. Well time to soak in more.

The story for my next script swells in my brain like a tumor. I need to get it the fuck out, to mock the two in front of me. I need to put it on paper. To those who have trouble composing a script, remember this: writing is hard; exorcising your demons is easy.

That guy Sean sent me this video yesterday. It’s a speech by Ira Glass, who, like most flamboyant men, is inspiring. I agree with what Ira says because it’s common sense. “Keep trying” “Work hard” “You’ll get better” are the tenants of his speech. I agree. You should keep trying and work hard, and eventually you’ll get better. Am I being sarcastic? I guess it’s a revelation if you’re really down on your luck. Or if you just like the way Ira talks. I do.

I wanna slam headfirst into the next script. It’ll be a light drama flavored with romance and a dash of angst. But I can’t, not now. We have two actor reels that I need to write scripts for. Then I need to finish shooting and editing this little musical by an elementary school. For a bunch of preteens, they’re pretty good (some skits were also a tad provocative for their age). It’s a favor for my cousin who works in the After School Program. It’s also practice. For what, I don’t know. Then on Saturday we drive to Lake Forest to be interviewed by R.J. Adams.

Clouds are forming. Coffee’s getting cold.

I think Sean has run into a bit of blockage with Rory’s First Kiss. Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell much. He’s scripting a brief prologue sequence to break the ice. That’s a good idea. It’s what I’d do. For that twenty page script, I wrote the bulk of it between ten at night and three in the morning. I’d recommend he do that too, when the day is long dead and the city has ceased to live. Everything stops. Midnight is insulation from reality.