Though I wish it was.
According to eHow, if you think your trackpad isn’t working because you got your laptop wet, you are supposed to dry it out by burying it in rice for a 24-48 hours. Or desiccant, if you have some. Which apparently we do—Paul tells me that he saves those little packets that come in vitamins and shoes…he just can’t remember where. So rice it is.
But of course I couldn’t actually live without my computer for two days. I did leave it at home when I went to work, so it got about seven hours of “drying” time, with no observable effect when I pulled it out of its rice bed in a plastic bag, plugged an external mouse into it, and started typing, because–
–today was the deadline for the Sundance Screenwriters Lab. I’m feeling pretty proud of myself that I’ve already turned it in and it’s still three hours ’til midnight. Those of you who are acquainted with the show-type-business will know that I speak with no self-deprecation when I say that going through the application process for something like this is an exercise in futility. Those of you from non-LA parts of the world–just trust me on this–one of the co-writers selected last year was Barbara Kingsolver.
However, I like to think that the 20+ hours I spent on a story synopsis, artistic statement, cover letter and biography is not without worth. One way of coming to more deeply understand your story is to tell it to other people, and then tell it again. Can you tell your hundred-page script in four pages? Can you tell it in a paragraph? A sentence? What’s essential to the story? What’s the essence of the story?
And, if I’m alert and a little bit lucky, there’s a good chance some opportunity will come along that’s a little more suited to the level that I am at right now, and when I need to apply, all these materials can serve as first drafts.