I can’t complain but sometimes I still do
Two weeks hanging out on set with no responsibility was a luxury. To stay through the whole shoot would have been an unnecessary burden on my wonderful, supportive family, so I came home last week.
(It wasn’t easy. I hate goodbyes. They’re wet and sniffle-y. Even the ones that shouldn’t be so hard.)
Being on set was fun and illuminating and boring and breathtaking… sometimes all at once. I met a lot of great people, some of whom I hope will stick as true friends despite all our hectic lives…
Today’s my first day back in my everyday life, where I write in an office in my home. I still feel a little square-peggish.
My manager and his partner had some positive comments on THE MIDDLE AGES and passed it on to a producer before I left. Apparently, she read it and has some notes for me, so we’ll probably hook up on the phone sometime this week.
Gotta re-read it — I’m not in that head space, yet. Still missing my friends in the cast and crew and the energy of being on set. Hating that scenes are being shot and I’m not there to see them. It feels like grief.
I don’t expect, nor really deserve, much sympathy.
Woe is me… I’ve been rewritten by some brilliant comedy guys who built onto my script and made it better, then brought in the perfect cast and a kickass crew and… oh, the horror!
It’s been incredible all along to watch the actors bring my characters to life. But when I got to the “Mansion” location last week, I felt like I’d fallen down a rabbit hole into my own imagination. I squealed and made a lot of excited, incomprehensible sounds.
Then… I saw the pool.
And there they were. The statues from my earliest drafts, just as I imagined. Just as I wrote.
(I never got to meet our production designer, Steve Arnold, but I love him.)
I’m sure “Nouveau David” takes a lot of people’s breath away… but not the way he did mine. ‘Cause I saw him first, years ago. Just like that. Right there, beside Mrs. Ashmore’s pool.
Life’s been good to me so far.