As you may remember,* I direct an improv comedy troupe. One of our very favorite things** is improvised musical shows for kids. These begin with an audience suggestion, frequently dogs, cats or dinosaurs. Yesterday’s was “construction sites.” This came from a 7-year-old, who said it was actually her little brother’s idea. It was an excellent suggestion, because there are many words that rhyme with ‘foundation.’

*I know you don’t. Humor me.

**No, honestly

I played opposite Ken Jennings (the original Toby in Sweeney Todd) in a production of Desert Song at the Halfpenny Playhouse in Kearny, NJ. The stage was the size of a coffee table. Nonetheless, Nathan Lane started out there, too. They both went on to create roles on Broadway. I did not.

I have decided not to bring along my laptop when we go to Connecticut for my son’s wedding.* This will mean 4 days without writing. Give me strength.

I’m talking about the trip, not the ceremony, you silly. Even I would not be so callous. Besides, it would be tough to hold a laptop for 30 minutes while I stand under the chuppah.

I had such an odd exchange on Twitter over the last couple of days, I had to share it.** Someone tweeted about how important it was to retweet other people, and I said, as jovially as I could, I also liked it when someone favorited one of my tweets. Then he said ‘favorites’ were ‘self-indulgent,’ and also I was rude for not addressing him by his first name (hey, when you only get 140 characters, are you really going to use up 11 of them on ‘Christopher?’).

Then a second person jumped in and agreed with him about ‘favorites,’ and said I should also say ‘Hi.’ At this point I tweeted off into the sunset.

*If you don’t tweet this might not mean anything to you. Then again, it might not mean anything to you if you do.

**I’d tweet it, but it’s way too long.

When last you read me* I was suffering mightily trying to make two year’s worth of plot fit into one. I am semi-pleased that I have managed to work in the most significant points. Now I must work on the less significant points, without which the novel will be about 1400 words long.

*which would actually be right now if this is your first time on my blog, but I digress**

**As usual

I am taking a break from #Pitmad. What, you might ask* is #Pitmad? It’s a 12-hour Twitter competition during which you may tweet a pitch for a manuscript and an agent or editor may, on the basis of 140 characters, request a more few pages. The odds are monumentally against this happening, but it’s only 140 characters once an hour, so at least it’s not too time consuming.

*or you might not, but humor me

Only one, but he was a Supreme Court justice, so one is plenty.

I’m combining two years of plot into one, and it is, at last working. I printed out calendar pages. My desk looks like a war room. I hope I can read my writing.

This is one of my very few serious, asterisk-free posts. There is a wonderful new documentary about Julius Rosenwald, a man who underwrote some of the most important African American institutions (Tuskegee U., the Rosenwald schools and the first African American YMCAs, to name a few) artists and scientists ((Langston Hughes, Charles Drew, James Baldwin, Augusta Savage, Marian Anderson and many, many more)  of the early 20th Century. It’s amazing to see how one person’s very targeted philanthropy can make a difference in the world. See it and feel better about humanity.

My novel is rapidly becoming The Six Million Dollar Novel.*  I can rewrite it. I have a computer. I can make it better than it was. Better, longer, sellable.**

*Just a cultural reference, not hubris, though it would be nice if it brought in six million, or six thousand, or anything

**If you recognize this paraphrase, you are either old, or watching too much TV Land.