IN THE MOUNTAINS OF MADNESS AND THE VALLEY OF MEMORY

Sometimes I feel like a motherless child. Well, I am a motherless child. And sometimes, things are rough. Other times, things are sweet as can be. Right now, with all that's going on in the world, I feel strangely great. Connected. Alive. Is that wrong? And holy shit, has this time been productive. I've written a complete screenplay, to the tune of over 120 pages, and then done a full second draft, and am about to do a third one. That' s crazy, isn't it? Well, I'm crazy. 

The script is currently titled The Belvedere Jungle. It's one of those semi-autobiographical stories about growing up in a world full of crazy people. A world where those in charge seem to be only capable of making bad decisions. Can you imagine? 

As I get ready for next draft, I look at all the scenes I've had to cut. And I mourn them. When I write a play or movie script, I create these people, these moments, and I love them. I really do. They are like my children. And some of them have to take a seat in the ether dugout. Which is a bit of a drag. But such is the craft. 

Scenes I've cut: Halloween, going to a haunted house with my buddies, getting scared in a strobe light room with a creepy clown and hitting said clown in the balls with my bag of candy, then running as fast as I can; my sister dressing me and my friend up like girls and parading us around the neighborhood; imagining I'm a monster in a graveyard; a Cub Scout meeting where everyone turns into werewolves.

Good bye, dear scenes of discovery and wonder. You shall be missed. 

We all have to say good bye to things. It ain't easy. 

Here's a song. It's Black Water by The Doobie Brothers.