Boredom and the banality of life are slowly setting in again. I need some excitement or something new to do, and I’m too lazy to seek it out. Super illustrator friend Brian actually completed Script Frenzy (I didn’t. So what, I’m a failure, get over it.) and he’s sent over his first draft, which I’m hoping to start reading tonight. Time to use some company resources to print the bad boy out and look like Mr. Important reading a script at the coffee shop. I should make really loud phone calls and wear shades indoors too.
“Brian, baby, love the script. But the main character, he’s not gonna work. Let’s make this an ensemble piece. No, better – give them kitten heads.”
I’ll never be asked to read a first draft again.
I am ever so close to giving up on Bioshock. It’s just too scary for me, and the limited turning speed of a controller vs a mouse makes me think that every time I turn I’m gonna come into view of some creepy little girl that’s gonna jump out and scare me. But then there’s certain people who keep telling me it’s a great game and that I should finish it. Blah.
I’m about halfway through The Time Traveler’s Wife and I’m really enjoying it. So far I’d say it’s one of the most memorable books I’ve read since Bel Canto. What’s astonished me more is the fact that nobody I know has read it, even though for a while I kept seeing it at all the bookstores.
There’s a lot to like about it, and the time traveling is handled quite elegantly. Yes, he really does time travel. It’s not some metaphor, which I half-thought it would be. Those writers and their clever literary devices.
I think what’s a bit disheartening though is that the book seems quite similar to what I had in mind as my novel. Different, sure, but it captures a lot of the aspects I was trying for. At least I know what to aim for.