You Know How I Know You're a Writer?

Last evening, the Wave-inatrix sat by a crackling chiminea (translation for non-Angelenos: cheap little pot belly outdoor fireplace thing) with my dear friend Margaux, sipped white wine and discussed the events of late that have made life challenging. Then our conversation, as it is wont to do, segued into writing. We talked about the television arm of things (Margaux's specialty) and the feature arm of things. We discussed that Margaux, as part of the Warner Brother's Television Fellowship, heard Aaron Sorkin speak the other day. We discussed which television shows are not great to spec right now. And after awhile, a silence returned to the patio because the shadow of recent events hangs over everything. The sound of crickets became apparent. No, really, we have a lot of crickets in the Fairfax area and on a warm evening, they join the chorus of urban life outside my window.

Back to the crackling chiminea on the patio. Breaking the silence, in a tiny voice, I said to Margaux - this might be weird and wrong but - and I shared with her an idea for a thriller that popped into my mind during and related to the trials and travails of late. Margaux loved the idea. We tested it for originality, we played with the antagonist. We beat out the story up to the midpoint and decided a killer midpoint must be brainstormed. Margaux, so very often the Wave-inatrix's go-to person for idea testing, is excited about this idea. And Wavers, it might be weird and it might be just ever so slightly wrong, but that's how you know you're a writer - even in the throes of things, your writer's mind is looking at it all from a slight, narrative distance. You might be too upset to write in the moment, but your writer's brain never rests. And that, dear Wavers, is my salvation right now. I'm already beginning an outline.

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