A Stream of Optional Imaginings

I need to read something. Anything. My well is dry. Parched even.

I’m staring at my computer screen and I’m watching the curser blink. It’s getting impatient. I can tell. And yet, no words come out. Nothing that interests me anyway.

I’ve been up to things. We had another campfire in the back yard with John, Kathy and her boyfriend Kevin. We’re all really digging the fire bowl I borrowed from Frank. We also had another games night last night. The home life is pretty super duper alright.

Career wise, I recorded voice over for the Lieutenant Governor’s Arts Awards yesterday. Ninety minutes to record 23 minutes of narration. Pretty good ratio methinks. As soon as the Saskatchewan Arts Board sends me material to work with, I can begin putting vignettes together.

Over the last three months I’ve been pitching myself to event planners and event industry suppliers. I’m thinking I should also be hitting up other organizations that have galas, awards presentations, and other big ticket occasions. I’d fit in well, working with that lot.

I’m also thinking that I need to carve out some hours to spend on my next draft for Room 31. After putting the call out a few weeks ago, I’ve received good notes from a few different sources. My ideas have been churning for some time. Another LIFT Writers’ circle is coming up. I really need to get on it.

As I write that, it strikes me that the clock is ticking on the relevance of my Boardwalk Empire spec. A new season of the series is beginning tonight, and I need to get that spec in front of agents ASAP. I worry that if I wait much longer, the series’ arc will render my plot irrelevant. I have no expectation that my script will ever be produced, but if I am to demonstrate my ability to capture the ‘voice’ of an existing series, the script needs to be plausible.

This brings me back to Room 31. I want to go in with three polished one-hour scripts to show diversity in my work. Three.

Funny. Aside from taking in a Rider game, I wasn’t really sure what to do with my day. A whole cornucopia of options presented themselves, but none really struck me as quite right for this sunny Sunday afternoon.

It now seems that a rewrite stands in my immediate future.

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