Done.
“Done” is a meaningless and rather ironic word, sometimes.
My mom called as I was reading my last rewritten scene and determining it was (for now, anyway) “done.”
Mom: You don’t sound good, what’s the matter?
She always thinks I don’t sound good when I’m happy. Conversely, I apparently sound peachy when I’m ready to jump in front of a bus.
Me: I’m fine. Just finished my rewrite.
Mom: I thought you finished that a month ago. Which one is this?
Me: Yeah, it’s the same one. I finished it, then I rewrote it.
Mom: Oh.
(An interminably long beat as the generation gap expands with a jaw-cracking yawn.)
Mom (cont’d): I wish you’d do something with that children’s book. That was really great…
I’m sure things are different when you’re not writing on spec, ‘cause you get to go to that “it’s out of my hands” place. But at this juncture in my writing career, “done” is kinda anticlimactic.
My mom called as I was reading my last rewritten scene and determining it was (for now, anyway) “done.”
Mom: You don’t sound good, what’s the matter?
She always thinks I don’t sound good when I’m happy. Conversely, I apparently sound peachy when I’m ready to jump in front of a bus.
Me: I’m fine. Just finished my rewrite.
Mom: I thought you finished that a month ago. Which one is this?
Me: Yeah, it’s the same one. I finished it, then I rewrote it.
Mom: Oh.
(An interminably long beat as the generation gap expands with a jaw-cracking yawn.)
Mom (cont’d): I wish you’d do something with that children’s book. That was really great…
I’m sure things are different when you’re not writing on spec, ‘cause you get to go to that “it’s out of my hands” place. But at this juncture in my writing career, “done” is kinda anticlimactic.
posted by Julie O'Hora at 2:59 PM
4 Comments:
I made the mistake of only sending my parents a few different drafts of the same script, and only years later realized that they assumed that was the only script I ever wrote.
I'm wasn't sure whether I should show them everything, or nothing. I settled on the latter -- it's easier.
I don't send mine my stuff anymore, either. My dad wouldn't read it (it has sex in it!) and my mom... well, she thinks that children's book I wrote was really great.
The only writing of mine which either parent has seen in the past 20 years has been a few magazine features they've stumbled across their own selves-- I don't even bother worrying if they know or care what I do in my writing (and before anyone gasps in horror, understand that the majority of these features have been things like "Great Local Family Dining Ideas" and "Local Families With More Than 8 Kids" and other such thrilling fare.
None of my relatives would even have a clue where to find words of mine online, and that suits me more than fine.
*shrug*
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But at this juncture in my writing career, “done” is kinda anticlimactic.
I hadn't thought about it that way, but it is very true. I finished the first draft and I am now doing the second draft . . . then what?
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