Except I never built upon it. In fact, thinking about that script right now, I really kind of hate it. The story is weak, the characters are annoying and the third act was rushed. I can't even bring myself to read it again.
This is not an uncommon problem for me. I have always struggled with 'second draft syndrome'. Case in point: Gun Street Girl. My baby. Named after a Tom Waits song, it was one of the first scripts I ever wrote. Definitely the first feature I ever finished a draft of. I started it when I was 20 and didn't finish it until I was 23. Ever since then it has been sitting in a drawer, waiting for me to tackle the second draft. Unlike the horror script, when I think of Gun Street Girl, I don't hate it. At all. I love it. It is like remembering an old friend. Which, I think, is why I am so afraid of it. Because it probably isn't half as good as it is in my head. I can see the characters, the story, the film, play out in my head. And it's perfect. I know that when I pick that script up and read it again, it is going to suck. It will probably suck so bad that I won't want to tackle a second draft. But I feel it is time. Time to man up and re-write that sucka! I owe it to her. I owe it to myself.
I sit here now, hungover for the second day in a row. Not because I drank two nights in a row, but because that is how much I drank on Thursday. I began drinking at 2:30pm and didn't stop until the sun came up on Friday morning. My body hurts. Maybe that is why I am feeling sorry for myself right now. Maybe that is pretty much how I have spent every weekend for the last twelve months. Maybe I really need to sort my priorities out. Somehow, some way, I need to find my inspiration again.
I am going to be 26 in a couple of weeks. Twenty fucking six! The day after my birthday we are having a party. If our house warming party in January is anything to go by, it is going to be fucking insane. The house was full of people, at least 50% of which none of us that live here actually knew, there was copious amounts of narcotics going around and I didn't go to bed until 2pm the next day. Therefore my whole 'sorting of priorities' is realistically going to have to wait until after said party. It is going to be messy and I am going to hurt afterwards. I know this. But I can't bail on my own freakin' birthday party! And deep down, nor do I want to.
But! After that party, after I have recovered. Once my twenty six year old body has forgiven me. Then shit is going to get real.