Script Misfire; End of the Olympics

They say your characters will take you where you want to go. Well, I’m not liking where Camilla, Des and Morris are going so I’m fundamentally re-thinking my script. I can, of course, tweak what I have, but I think beginning all over again is likely because they got “heavy” on me and I want the piece to have lots of lightness.

Writing natural conversational comedy is hard. It’s not telling funny stories or jokes, and I am not interested in physical comedy. Good comedy involves wit and I know I have it. I can be very funny in conversation but writing comedy is impossibly difficult and that is why I want to do it.

I think I need to immerse myself in Dorothy Parker and Oscar Wilde before sitting down to start again.

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Dwight and I went to dinner the other night at Ancora. It was a spectacular night. We started here at my place with drinks and then went to the restaurant. The theme of our discussions, of late, has been relationships—ours and those we have with others.

I talk with Christopher, my physiotherapist, about his recently broken relationship and about dating. And with my psychiatrist, we talk about both about my relationships and relationships in general—her clinical voice and experience gives me rich insights.

I go over it all and ponder past experiences as I do my walking; the conversations and the thinking yield dialogue and/or direction for my script.

Last night, I had dinner with a former Crown Prosecutor. I took her to dinner in exchange for insight into some criminal procedures and terminology I need for the script. She is going to help me bring impressive accuracy to my script (I hope).

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A lot of the Olympic commentators have irritated me with their inane commentary but Donovan Bailey is a natural. Everything he said added to my joy watching Usain Bolt and Andre de Grasse.

And Canadian wrestler Erica Wiebe is a total treat. She does us so proud every time she opens her mouth. And Adam van Koeverden is a class act whenever he opines.

I am going to really miss these Olympics. They’ve been staged in a very convenient time zone and Canadian athletes have done very well.

Last Night's Sunset

RIP Chris Loranger Productions

I took one step closer to death yesterday: I euthanized my corporate self, closing my corporate bank and GST accounts in the morning. My income has come from book sales, speeches, performing and teaching but since I can’t speak well any more and my book is sold out, it was time to pull the plug.

Do I feel anything? No. Am I sad about it? Not at all.

Doing it was the penultimate item on my list of errands; for the past two days, I’ve completed every single task on my “to do” list. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed going from place to place getting things done in such glorious sunshine. As I walk, I stop often to sit and rest in the shade; I think life is as perfect as the weather.

Yesterday I’d completed all my errands but one at one thirty, so I decided to treat myself to an old friend: A White Spot Hamburger. I used to live on them when I was young and as I enjoyed its retro taste, I contemplated how to extend the celebration of my self-imposed corporate death.

Then I remembered a vase I’d seen in a Granville Island glass foundry I coveted so I headed back to see it again. The decision allowed me to incorporate the False Creek seawall into my route; walking uninterrupted is such a treat.

The vase cost $1,800. I stood, stupefied by its beauty and playing the should-I-or-shouldn’t-I game for a long time but, intimidated by its price, I walked away and went further down the street to Circle Craft where I saw a ring at half the price. It’s silver with a brushed gold band on the top and it has a solitary diamond. I’ve always been tempted by a diamond ring and I loved the mix of gold and silver but it was too small.

The clerks in the store were giddy—this is a craft co-operative where a thousand-dollar sale is big stuff. So it was a little like being Cinderella trying on the slipper; there was a sad sigh when it didn’t fit. So one clerk asked if she’d like me to call the artist to see if she’s made one in my size and I said, “Definitely!”

And to complete the celebration of my corporate death I am going to Ancora for dinner tonight with Dwight. I’ll be eating on the terrace, right on the False Creek Seawall for sunset on a perfect summer night with the finest guy in my life. Perfect.

Making Moolah and Changing Course on my Script

I’d like to call it a bank error but it wasn’t. It was human error. Okay, it was my fault. But what a great mistake to make! I went into see why I couldn’t reconcile my accounts and discovered my error. Result: Four grand in my favour.

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I’ve ordered the raw ingredients with which to make licorice ice cream. It’s a request of my ex who has returned to LA and won’t be able to taste it, but I am keen to try to devise a recipe because I love licorice too.

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I haven’t spent any time lately with Camilla, Des and Morris, the characters in my play, and I’ve been rewarded, I think, by taking a break. Out of nowhere, an idea for an ending came to me. It’s an extremely short and silent scene from which came a vision to change the central idea of the play.

If I keep tweaking away and taking lots of gaps to think my characters and their arcs through, I just may finish something in which to take pride. It’s kind of exciting.

In technical writing, the faster you work the more you make. The fee is fixed, so if you can do it very quickly, you can take on more clients and more work and earn a decent income. I got used to writing quickly over forty years of working with clients.

There’s an unexpected irony in writing fiction: It’s far more revealing of the truth of me than technical writing as it draws on the experience of me and my friends.

The first man who said he loved me is a straight friend. Three straight men have said they loved me with sincere feeling. I have always assumed it is the result of two things.

• One: I am non-competitive and I think straight men trigger competition in each other.
• And two: I help them understand their women. From a lifetime of closeness with women, they gain insights to feminine values from me. I believe I am a dispassionate and thoughtful sounding board with whom they can talk about their relationships. 

So I have decided to focus on the gay/straight male relationship rather than on the gay/straight female relationship that was my motivating purpose.

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My gorgeous bright red shrimp are breeding like crazy and the aquarium store where I got the few with which I started is interested in buying some of mine. They pay $3 per shrimp and want 100 and I can do this regularly. What a hoot: It being my only source of income, if anyone asks me what I do, I can say I sell shrimp.

Click to enlarge.