People Sometimes Get In The Habit Of

Odd That The Future Should Be So Difficult To Bring Into Focus When The Past, Uninvited, Offered Itself Up So Easily For Inspection.

You Use Simple Brushstrokes In A Screenplay For Things Over Which You Would Take Much Greater Pains In A Novel.

After All, What Was The Whole Wide World But A Place For People To Yearn For Their Heart's Impossible Desires, For Those Desires To Become Entrenched In Defiance Of Logic, Plausibility, And Even The Passage Of Time, As Eternal As Polished Marble.

He'd Discovered That His Memories Of That Summer Were Like Bad Movie Montages - Young Lovers Tossing A Frisbee In The Park, Sharing A Melting Ice-cream Cone, Bicycling Along The River, Laughing, Talking, Kissing, A Sappy Score Drowning Out The Dialogue Because The Screenwriter Had No Idea What These Two People Might Say To Each Other.

When You Don't Know What To Do, Try Something; If That Doesn't Work, Try Something Else.