It's hot. A little too hot for writing but I'll take a stab at it anyway. Trying to get things done in the evening is a pain in the ass as I am hot,sweaty and drained of my life force (or midichlorians if you will). I sit around at night in front of the air conditioner with a fan to the left of me trying to create a whirlpool of cool...which oddly enough was my nickname in college. I sit there and think about writing and then watch bad TV. It's sad really, I haven't even bought a couch yet. The good news is I finished the sixth and final rewrite of this script that I have been working on for some time. It is good and funny, and it takes a lot for me to say that about my own work. Anyway a friend of mine told me that now I should go find an agent, which I suppose I should do. Just think if I can sell a script then maybe someone will actually pay me to write Wild Things 2. Actually I think my dream writing gig, assuming that The Simpsons is just out of the question and The Kids In The Hall wouldn't have let a Yank like me in their midst, would have been a staff writer on Party of Five, although I suspect that some Canadians had their hand in that as well because it was so goddamn good.
