Dear John August – [not a break-up letter]

I’m a fledgling technology consumer.

According to Merriam-Webster, fledgling can either mean a young bird who has just fledged (what?) or a person or organization that is immature, inexperienced, or underdeveloped.

I’m neither immature nor an organization but I am definitely inexperienced and underdeveloped when it comes to things referred to as devices and all the shit you have to learn to operate them.

Don’t get me wrong. I loves me my devices, y’all. I just don’t know how to make them work at their full potential and beating them on rocks to bring about aforementioned potential just doesn’t work. Trust me on this.

Despite the fact that my self-esteem has been put through a virtual wood-chipper for being completely un-trainable, I put on a happy face and just keep on truckin’.  What’s my choice?

So imagine my sheer bliss when I discovered –  on my own, mind you – how to convert a pdf script back into Final Draft format. This was after fretting for days and days that I’d have to type an accidentally-deleted-because-I’m-an-idiot version of a script word for word from a pdf file.

I had put out one last call for help. One puny, fading sonar beep of a plea.

“Help me Google-wan-Kenobi! You’re my only hope!”

And Google brought forth a screenwriter angel. And he was called John August.

And he carried with him a mighty tool. And that tool bore the name….Highland

And Highland was my redeemer. It restoreth my soul and my tattered self-esteem.

Highland! Highland!  I shall trumpet your wonders throughout the kingdoms of cyber-space, bear witness through the power of my own voice and ……

Okay, okay!  I’ll cut the biblical melodrama but I’m here to tell you, this Highland App is fucking MA-JIK. Convert your pdfs back into Final Draft files in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.  You  don’t even need opposable thumbs to do it!  Just a coupla pointer fingers and you’re good to go. It’s that simple.

One last little discovery I just have to share! I ran across the most fascinating circular contraption. It’s sometimes made of rubber, sometimes metal and it facilitates movement.  It’s called the wheel.

 

 

A Time to Read

I don’t spend much time reading these days as I’m too busy writing until I have no fingerprints in hopes that I will create something worthwhile.  The last book I read was Advanced Screenwriting by Linda Seger.  It’s about advanced screenwriting if you were wondering.  I have read many how-to books about the right way to write a screenplay.  They are all different, they all use different terminology and they all have their own wonderfully unique ways of saying that I’d be better off spending my time in night school to become a dental assistant.  I am, as usual, over-dramatizing.  But the message is clear:  unless you have come up with a way to channel Billy Wilder, you’re pretty much screwed.  But for some unforeseen reason, the powers that be have bestowed up on me the character flaw of always choosing the hardest path.  Damn.

But enough about me.  Today I started a new book and it’s not about screenwriting.  It is called A Round-Heeled Woman: My Late-Life Adventures in Sex and Romance by Jane Juska.   I read a review in a magazine the name of which I don’t recall (but it wasn’t US Weekly or People) while I was getting a pedicure by a lovely Vietnamese man who wanted to know if I had any “big plans” for the evening.   As soon as I read the title, I was hooked.  After I read the actual review, I rushed home and bought 6 copies.  I plan on devouring my copy before dinnertime.   The other 5 will be doled out to some of my dearest friends.  You know who you are!

As an aspiring writer, I know you gotta grab the reader by the short hairs right up front.  To put an exclamation point on that theory, I will share with you the opening of the book:

Do You think you’re a nymphomaniac?” Bill wants to know.  We sit on my couch close enough for him to grab me should I offer the right answer.  Bill obviously thinks there is a strong possibility, and inches closer. He is an attractive man of sixty-one, six years younger than I.

I love you Jane Juska.