Father's Day, First draft.

A happy Father's Day to all the Dads out there. A special shout out to two of the most amazing Dads I know, my Dad and my brother.

At 6:15 this morning I typed the last word of my first draft!! Okay it will take me months to rewrite it but I feel great. Of course this is the fun part before people start reading it and tearing it apart.

I have written scripts before but this is the first time I have finished a book. I started it three years ago but it was turning into a bitter "The Devil Wore Prada" meets "Swimming with the Sharks", kind of rant. I did not want to spend anymore time in that world. So after a couple of chapters, I put it aside.

Speaking of "The Devil Wore Prada", great title, looking forward to seeing the movie but I did not like that book. Why did she get such a huge advance?

I have been reading Annie Lamont's "Bird by Bird", it's very intersting. I am a little concerned. She makes the writing process sound like torture. I did have writers block sometimes but not to the point that I would get depressed about it. I'm not writing literature but I still want it to be good. I have enjoyed the process so now I'm worried that my book might suck. Aren't you supposed to suffer for your craft?

On the other hand, having such a bizarre career path helped me with my writing. I have met people from all over the country and have great life experiences to draw from. I don't think I would have gone on my first trip to Rome, at the last minute, if my previous boss had not shut down the production company right before Christmas. That trip changed my life.

Yesterday I had the best risotto for lunch and learned some new curse words. Where? At La Buca where I went to watch the Italy vs. USA game. Can the USA beat Ghana, a team that upset the team that spanked them? I cannot wait until Thursday.

Back to the risotto. It was perfect. I think the mother of the owner is the chef. When she came out to the dining area, everyone clapped and said Brava. The restaurant is owned by a friend of my Italian professor. It's really tiny just six or seven tables. High ceiling with black and white movie posters on the wall. Someone is a big Sophia Loren fan, I think there were three of her. Two with Marcello Mastroianni. I didn't feel like I was smack in the middle of Hollywood, just down the street from Paramount. I have to go back for dinner.