Writing On Spec

An award caliber procrastinator discovers a new and dangerous pursuit to keep him from actually writing another script. Why another Blog? I love to talk screenwriting. I love to talk story. I live in Richmond, VA. It's almost easier to get produced than find another screenwriter here. We are the anti-LA.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Rocking Chair Stories

Here's a story from back in the day.

One of those moments that when I'm 90 and sitting in the rocking chair staring into space, there's a good chance my mind will replay this one for me.

I'm in my mid 20's and my best friend and I have been going to concerts for years now. All over the state, but not much further. We've been attending the concerts of one Sara Hickman (http://www.sarahickman.com/) . She's a folk musician, plays solo, or did 99% of the time.

She was always entertaining, plays some wonderful songs and is easy on the eyes.

Now I've seen her twice before.

The first time, I had nothing for an autograph but a 3x5 index card (I've been a Guerilla Screenwriter* for years). So I got her autograph and things were swell.

Next time I saw her, I brought the same 3x5 and got it autographed on the other side.

This is the third time.

Have I mentioned the rule of 3's yet? It's strong - like the force - even in real life. Make sure you make it so in your scripts.

So, we're out at the Tobacco Club, this is a bar in downtown Richmond, VA. It's a pretty nice place, 3 floors (see the 3 again?) and caters to the fiancial district for it's customers. They have a fair sized stage and have performers in on a regular basis.

So, we're up front - I mean, it's a bar, so we're there early (free food at 5pm). Anyway, we're watching her for the first half of the show and when she comes down for her break, I make a point of getting her attention and calling her over.

We do the usual fawning that 20-something nerds do and I show her the card that I have (signed on both sides). She gives me this radient smile and after that much of the experience (sadly) blurs. You see, she sits in my lap, puts her arm around me and sings a song to me. A James Taylor/Carley Simon duet (not me singing of course).

I'm young, my best friend is 5 feet away from me and a beautiful woman with a lovely voice (who we both love) is sitting in my lap singing to me. It was absolute heaven.

As expected, my friend (whom is still my best friend) doesn't care for me to recollect that fantastic memory - no doubt a little sour from the outside of the experience.

Thanks, Sara, for a fantastic memory.

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