I've been working on a new script that has somehow delved into that gray area of family issues. It's weird to find what has been swept under the subconscious rug, and how it comes out through the writing process. When characters start speaking for themselves and revealing disturbing truths — and all writing is a search for truth, otherwise the reader won't fully believe the story — it's a little discomfiting.
I am bracing myself for the ebbs and flows of a [cross country] season that will inevitably be filled with laughter and tears. And through it all I must find a way to motivate and inspire. So for some strange reason having to do with the grieving process deciding it was time to deal with some old pain, I am dedicating this season to the memory of my late sister, Monique . . .
It’s been a busy May. Completing a new manuscript, finishing track season, a week in Europe, and then immediately up in Mammoth for what was meant to be a period of restoration. Instead, the stress and dehydration and jet lag all caught up to me and I spent yesterday flat on my back with some version of the stomach flu.
I was speaking recently with a good friend. We've known each other since neither of us had two pennies to rub together. Nowadays, he's got a high stress job and a level of power most of us can only imagine.... We were talking the other day — the usual stuff about kids and life — when the subject of worry came up.
