And It's Not a Train!
First, something off topic: Last night, I was guilted (I know guilt is not a verb) into attending a $1000-a-plate charity function. (It was A LOT of guilt.) I learned that while there’s a HUGE difference in food quality, presentation, and taste between a $100-a-plate dinner and a $250-a-plate dinner, there’s practically no difference between $250-a-plate and $1000-a-plate. I guess at some point food just can’t get any better (that’s such a sad revelation)–and I guess the charity should get a portion of the donation for its cause.
Every time people say they see a light at the end of a tunnel, my pessimistic self always wonders if it’s a train. Yeah, sometimes I’m just a joy to be around.
But not today. Today, I’m finishing off that final scene and I’m printing out the manuscript in double-spaced format so I can go over it with my red pen. The pages will bleed red ink, though, because I already know of three scenes that need to be rewritten. (Yeah, I changed the story two more times in the last week.) After this piece, I’m writing something totally for me. This piece was a request and I learned I don’t do requests very well.