There's nothing like it - the challenge that's slapped across your face like a duellist's glove, begging you to bring it to the table. Your heart beats out of your chest, your breath comes in shallow gulps, the sweat beads on your forehead more than when you asked that pretty girl you've admired from afar for oh so long to dance back in the 9th grade...
Then you ask yourself, 'Am I up to this?" and you hit that fork-in-the-road moment and you can't tell your right from your left or even up from down.
Thump thump thump thump...
I've been experiencing this feeling this morning with a script I've been rewriting. In picking it apart, I wasn't able to discern why this one of my children was going to be stuck on the short school bus of film development. Doomed to languish in the special needs class where the kids wear football helmets all the time. Damnit! Not my kid!
But what was the problem?!!!!!
Then it hit me - and I got sick about it. Figuratively if not literally. Because it meant surgery. Radical surgery to remove the malignant growth that was preventing my kid from keeping up with the rest of his peers. Cutting scenes entirely - nearly 20 pages worth.
Thump thump thump thump...
Challenge = butt + chair + coffee
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