So I’m on my way to a writers conference in Purchase, NY and I leave my laptop in the cab from Penn Station to Grand Central.* I do not have the cab driver’s medallion number. I am in the last ring in Hell. An hour later I get a tweet from a wonderful man.**

Found your laptop in cab.

And he gave me the driver’s medallion # and phone. I got my laptop back.***

Of course the destination is irrelevant. I just added it for local color.

**I would tell you his name, but then you’ll expect him to find your laptop, too.

***Which you already guessed, because I don’t tell sad stories, unless they’re also very funny.

Bad news: There is no quiet car on the 8:03 to NYC. Good news: Everyone’s asleep.

One of the problems with doing revisions is sometimes* the timeline ends up totally screwed up, as in, Thursday becomes the day before Tuesday, and a character enters 8th grade at age 3. So I’m working on timelines this week, which is hateful, but essential, as none of my novels involve wormholes.

*Meaning always

Francis Ford Coppola asked the extras in Gardens of Stone if it was ok if he joined us for lunch. He wasn’t being ironic.

*A somewhat smaller category than “Nice famous actors,” because A. There aren’t as many in total, and B. %wise they’re not as nice, except me, of course. Ask my actors.

Why is it some of the worst shows I’ve ever seen had no intermissions? It’s almost like the playwright said to himself, “If I put in an intermission, everybody will leave at the end of Act I.” Some people will leave anyway, but not me. I’m afraid I’d hurt the actors’ feelings, unless I yelled, “It’s not you. IT’S THE PLAY.”*

*I have excellent theatre manners, so I wouldn’t, tempting though it might be.

First in a long series. ANNIE Saw it in previews in DC. Said it wouldn’t last a week on B’way. Still think it shouldn’t have.

There is a strange man in a bright orange suit with question marks all over it, who frequents my favorite coffee place. I thought he was crazy*, but it turns out he’s just Matthew Lesko.

*He may be crazy, too, but I’m sure he won’t mind me saying that, as all of you are now Googling him and it’s free advertising.

Harrison Ford. He told the director of the film* in which I was extra-ing he would not go on with the scene until the extras got a better holding area, as in one that shielded us from the icy pouring rain.

*Not naming it, because then you’d know who directed it and, as previously mentioned, I like working (like the director in question would know who I am…but still)

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again,* being a pro actor is not the best preparation for writing. Why, you might ask?** An actor has a director, playwright, scenic and lighting designer, costumer, and other actors*** to help her create a work of art. A writer has to do it all herself.

*You weren’t paying attention the first time, anyway.

**Or you might not. It’s never stopped me yet.

***Sometimes all of these are impediments, but as I would like to continue working in theatre, I won’t go there.

I have a home office. I revised five chapters this morning.So why do I feel guilty that I was still in my pajamas at 10am?