In The Heat Of The Night

It’s hot.

Summer in Atlanta hot. Nothing outrageous, but a good 93 degrees outside, according to the thermometer on the patio.

Inside it’s only slightly better. The freaking A/C filter needs changing and I’ve realized it far too late in the day to really act upon it. I swung by the grocery store, but they don’t have the right size. Home Depot is closed, and I’m too lazy to drive the ½ hour distance to a Walmart, Kmart or similar that’d be open past 9.

I’m sitting in front of my laptop, Final Draft open, scene ideas percolating in my head. But each time I put fingers to keys, I get distracted.

I start to type.

PLOP. A bead of sweat drops from my forehead onto the SPACE key.

“Damn,” I mutter aloud. My dog, Ralph, looks up at me from the shade of an end table. He’s panting like Pat O’Brien on a cellphone call.

(Two Pat O’Brien jokes in a row! Wooo hoooo!)

I try to focus. We’ve just gotten to the first batch of action scenes in the second act, and I’ve been mentally pounding out this sequence in my head for more than a month now. I just need to put it to paper.

Just. Put. It. To. Paper.

Suddenly an IM dialogue box pops to the front of my screen.

“bbstucco: Howdy, partner!!”

It’s Dave. I sigh. No doubt he’s gonna bust my chops, wondering when he’ll get the scenes. Sure, its easy to be impatient when you’re sitting up in NY, man-of-leisure, nothing to do but place calls to your Manager and harass your writing partner on your “low priority” projects. And what the hell is he doing up so late?

I reply, heading him off at the pass. “Hey Dave. Working on it right now…”

5 seconds passes. No reply. Then 15. 30. A minute.

I shut off the iBook, open the window, and go to bed.

Tomorrow is a new day. And Home Depot opens at 9am.

Charlie

Keywords: b movie, Siege, screenwriting, screenplay, scriptwriter