Friday, July 17, 2009


Someone in my screenwriting class is writing a screenplay about an apocalyptic future. Before you balk at the idea, there's actually much more to it than that. I'm being vague because I'd hate for someone to steal her premise. We all know how much Hollywood is clamoring for fresh new, unrecognized talent these days.

The point is, I found myself getting way excited about her idea, following her from the class room to the dinning hall just unloading ideas on her. She seemed to be cool with it. But I realized that I get excited in apocalypse as a general rule.

Isn't there just something about apocalypse? A blank slate. A vast silence. An oceanic solace. It's not that I sit around wishing for it to go down. It's just, I can imagine myself alone, maybe with a few other survivors, each of us with a floor of the Waldorf Astoria to ourselves.

It's not that I want apocalypse. I just want to hear a pin drop in the middle of time square. I want ivy to engulf the sears tower. I want to take time lapse photography of a freeway and have it look like a still.

I wonder, if the shit ever hit the fan, and I was spared, would I still write despite having no reader, no audience? What if I did, and it was my best work ever?

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