Had a brain-fade of sorts and spent two hours if not more on the web, trying to locate contact information on Hollywood film producers, to whom I might send my screenplay. What a fad, was relieved when it was over and I got to my senses. Better chances playing the lottery.
She sometimes asks me if I do not want to take up writing again. Part of me wants to say ‘yes’ to make her feel guilty, truth be told, though thankfully I usually manage a ‘no, that’s not for me any more. Don’t have the time for it’. What a half-truth; there’s time I could take if I wanted. But I don’t, really, want it enough, or that’s what I would have done. I’m recognizing it’s a long shot at best to get one of these things produced, and that’s not time I want to consume in favor of what else interests me. I’m getting around the age where it’s just another movie. If by some miracle it would be some day made, preferably in my lifetime!, sure I would be proud as hell. And it it doesn’t, well it’s not the greatest loss to the potential audience, they’ll just find another one, and to me, well, I have great kids to raise and all sorts of other interesting things to do. So, in conclusion, no, I don’t want to take it up again, I wouldn’t benefit as much as I did when I was young and really needed to get some stuff off my chest, there’s not the addiction in it, in playing with emotions to see what might pop up. I hope I’ll refrain from using it as an argument in a potential feud over time and who’s got the more of it, as truly the answer is ‘no, not unless someone’s willing to pay me a million to do it’. So there.
She’s off to Vejle, incidentally, languishing at some spa with her girlfriend Sheila. Good for her.