NOTE FROM LB
Time now for a writing tip you don’t usually get in Screenwriting 101. Oh, wait. It’s not a tip at all. It’s a confession. Hmm….
I tried to write another lie.
NOTE FROM LB
From time to time – well, okay, constantly – I engage in what I believe is a kind of self-analysis common to writers. In my case, it invariably goes like this:
So what’s this search all about?
NOTE FROM LB
D’neh, the Navajo Dog, is back in this remembrance of days far more glorious than any I’ve experienced that are part of showbiz. Who knew real life could be so shiny and bright?
I met my friend the wild Indian at dawn,
NOTE FROM LB
Short and bittersweet, or so many people may say. But if “art” means being totally honest in one’s work, then this is my acme of artistry. (Or maybe just my bad imitation of wisdom gained by reaching an unexpectedly old age?)
I wish I had loved as I was loved.
I wish I had returned all the fire.
But I was desperate for ten thousand wrong things,
And they were all that could feed my desire.
NOTE FROM LB
For reasons I don’t know, I’ve been dreaming about my high school days lately, and this has put me in mind of all the wonderful discussions only teenagers nearing their twenties can acceptably have. Which in turn reminds me of two elements pretty much missing from my life these days – my mother and God. Which of course leads to the probably-not-anywhere-near-immortal question:
When I was in high school, in the days before
Anything was P.C., Tiersky the tenor sax man
And I would throw around our ideas about God.