So this incredibly interesting Numerologist told me I’d be stepping into a 100 mph zone in April. With my literal thinking, I naturally figured he meant I’d be flying off to LA (at 500 mph) and meeting all kinds of people, pitching up a storm.
Well at least not yet. For now, my version of the 100 mph zone is emotional. I generally have a very long fuse, slow to feel and even slower to act on feelings. But as of the last few days, clear the road. I’m in an emotional uproar. Cycling through the highs and the lows, infuriated, sobbing, storming around lower Manhattan on a two hour ‘walk’, frantic at having wasted five weeks on this rewrite and knowing I’m capable of wasting seventeen years. Except that I won’t because I’ve already done that once.
Being ‘old’ (I’m not old) is serving me. I don’t want to waste any more time.
With Mr. Green sitting across the table at lunch yesterday, I resisted biting his head off when he blew a Golden Opportunity:
Me (scared) Maybe I can’t do this rewrite. Maybe I’m just not capable of it.
Mr. Green Well maybe you can’t. Maybe you need to let someone else do the writing. What did Hitchcock say? “When the script has been written and the dialogue has been added…” You’re really good at dialogue. And your ultimate objective is to have a show, right? Or is your ultimate objective to write a script by yourself that’s good enough to get produced?
It’s a testament to how totally freaked out I was that I didn’t pick up my end of our considerably large and heavy dining room table and push it at Mr. Green. (Believe me I wanted to write “break it over Mr. Green” but it’s just not in the realm of possibility. If you want to see what I’m talking about, the table co-stars in episode 32)
(to be continued)
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