It’s predicted to reach 18° here today!
I rejected all my work to date on the defiant dress (#10). I took it apart and this morning I am going, full of optimism, to Opus to get some new materials with which to attempt a better armature. I’m not a bit discouraged. This is how it goes. Many of my dresses grow out of plan B.
Everyone who sees my dresses says I should “show” them. Well that ain’t gunna happen. They’re not good enough; they are, however, awesome play properties.
I’ve imagined a poignant play about a person so broken by life that she locks herself in her home and builds dresses. I know that person. But I don’t want to write that play. I’ve imagined a play about a little girl, thought to be incapable, who build dresses in her private attic that, when discovered, lead her to a very happy ending. But I don’t want to write children’s theatre either.
So I’m left with my story about Charlotte that has me feeling like a failed junk food baker because my script isn’t funny enough. I don’t need readers at this point. I need humour. And I may know how to do it.
Currently I have Charlotte battling Hamish, the director of the gallery, whom we only see in scene two. In scene one she’s with Royce. He’s barely present but he’s an ally and he needs to be a jerk.
Right now I have a script that I might generously describe as “not a waste of time.” That’s not good enough. I’ve hard work ahead on it. But first a plan B for my defiant dress.