Last night I dreamt I went to Manderlay again... As I stood there, hushed and still, I could swear that the house was not an empty shell but lived and breathed as it had lived before.
—Rebecca, Daphne Du Maurier
Poor, sporadically updated Butcherhouse blog... we meet again.
I've been severely tied up with script revisions. They come faster and furioser.
I turned in a draft Monday. Got feedback Tuesday. Started submitting partially revised scenes Tuesday night. Just submitted a new draft today to get more feedback later this afternoon. So that I can submit a really big important draft before the end of the day tomorrow!
My internal clock is totally out of whack. I've been staying up past 4am most nights. I can literally spend hours wringing my hands over TWO BLOODY LINES. A lot of screenwriting is about solving problems with broad strokes. Two measly lines can fix a huge problem... if they're the right two lines...
Michael Bay is going to read the draft I turn in tomorrow. Michael Bay is waiting to receive this draft tomorrow. Along with more Paramount execs. A lot of pressure I can't think about. The most important thing for me to focus on is the script and the story. Making sure it's as good as it can be right now.
The only reason I've got the time and mental space to write this entry is because I've got a little window of time while I wait for 11th hour feedback.
This is what you do. You turn in a draft on a Friday. Try your best to not think about it all weekend. Then brace yourself through Monday afternoon while you wait to hear of your fate in the world.
With a clear line to the bathroom to shit bricks...