I was staring at a clock, downtown Seattle, and it was five till something. This was soon after I began writing in the fall of ’99. I’d written a couple of short stories and a couple of chapters of the first draft of Flowers on Concrete. I was already hooked on the feeling writing gave me, but I didn’t have the confidence to write a book. I didn’t believe I could write a book. I figured I wasn’t really a writer but just wished I was. I thought for sure I was on the verge of running out of ideas. (A feeling that never goes away even when I’m in the midst of multiple writing projects.) But one look at that clock and I hit on an idea for a screenplay.
That one page screenplay was the only original screenplay I ever wrote. (I wrote a Frasier episode, which I’d be embarrassed to reread today, and a Simpsons episode, which I think I’d get a kick out of rereading.) I focused on writing books, instead. Ten years later, I met Wesley who wanted to direct movies and asked if I’d be interested in writing something for him. I was kind of like, “Oh yeah, I actually wrote a screenplay.” I say ‘kind of’ because I never really forgot about it. My writing memories are pretty vivid. I just never thought it would end up being made, but Wesley was up for making it, and we work with a couple of former actors who were willing to come out of retirement, so the movie will be premiered, this Saturday the sixteenth, at my house. Wesley is one of those quirky type directors. He wants the movie to be played on a tube TV. I know, right? Who still has those? Well, we’re in luck, because I have two of them.
Anyway, if you’re reading this you’re invited. PM me for details. Invitations are really just limited to people who want to come, so if you want to come, please do. Oh, what’s it about? I’m not good at describing movies, I fear giving too much away, but it’s about a guy and an alarm clock and a couple of people making fluffy scrambled eggs.