Draft Me

I have gone over our rough draft of the vampire/dysfunctional family/roaring 20's pic with a fine-toothed comb. Whittling it down from 257 pages to 178. Only had to cut the lesbian scenes, but I think Charlie won't mind. There's always the sequel.

So what do we do now? Well now Charlie gets to read it. And he'll make changes- if he dares. Then I'll read it and change anything he did. And so forth. And then, at some point, we'll IM each other and it'll go something like this:

Dave: We're done with this draft.

Charlie: I was thinking we could soften the bit where the hooker saves the dog from the train.

Dave: We're done with this draft.

Charlie: The character of the blind librarian needs some more depth.

Dave: We're done with this draft.

Charlie: Well, first we should fix the glaring hole with the blimp. We blew it up, the midget was on board, then suddenly he's in the hot tub.

Dave: We're done with this draft.

Charlie: ...or maybe we're done with this draft.

Dave: I agree.

Then the idea (or at least, my idea) is that we show it to My Manager and see what My Manager thinks. Hopefully, My Manager won't hate it. Maybe My Manager will, but My Manager'll realize that the script is there, and maybe we should do something with it. Or not. Nobody knows.

In a perfect world, My Manager'll read it and go. "Hey. Nice job. I can sell this."

Do we live in a perfect world? Huey Lewis said we weren't. He said we "Keep on dreamin' we're livin' in a perfect world." He also said it was hip to be square. There's a lot of wisdom in Huey Lewis, if you just know where to look.

I'm just hoping My Manager doesn't tell me that "Sometimes, Bad is Bad."

Ba dip-dip-dip-dip-dip-doo-wop.