I’ve got a birthday coming up next week; and it’s inevitable for me to take measure of my accomplishments and my progress on the path I’ve chosen. If the feeling of the last 48 hours holds, I’ll be in rare
I’m making the one damn thing for after the other
I’m at one of my network of writing-conducive cafes; I’ve just polished off a flat brown and five pages of a new Earbud Theater script I’m calling Monday for the Sweepers. My previous script Scary Ride is in the final