Day Eighty-Five

When it's this hot, the need to do something productive gets melted away about as quickly as the chocolate pretzels I finished off a few hours ago. At least I have my trusty little wall-unit air conditioner. It tends to produce more noise than cold air, but without it I'd probably be long dead and in whatever circle of Hell they reserve for people who have never seen The Sound of Music or It's a Wonderful Life but can name every James Bond film and episode of Buffy in chronological order.

I just finished a short story that's sort of the basis for the rewrite of my screenplay. Since the script came up short, I figured I could either (a) pad out all the scenes with extra dialogue (easy, and tempting, but stupid) or (b) add another story element that might make things more interesting (more difficult, but less stupid). After much deliberation, I chose (b), and I'm sure I'll end up hating myself for it.

I was thinking about publishing the story on my blog in serial form (say, 500 words a day for a week). It's not exactly my finest work, but it might at least provide some entertainment to blog readers. And as long as I'm always talking about writing, I figure the least I can do is put some of it up there to be hissed at and ridiculed.