I was thinking of a book of mine called
HARVEST. It struck me not long ago it might
make an interesting screenplay.
The characters seemed interesting enough.
The plot had enough twists and turns to
keep the action alive and believable.
I was deep into the story, writing it now
As a screenplay. The characters, once I’d
done several drafts, all but tell me how
to make them come more alive on the
page.
I was working on this when the door
to my office opened. It was my wife,
Rosanne, telling me for the third time
our lunch was getting cold.
Author’s comment: Pulling myself
back to reality takes a moment. Yes,
I’m in my office, sitting at my seven-foot
old pine desk. This might seem odd, but
this is what happens to me anyway.
Back to the present, so to speak.