Everything will be all write

This weekend, I plan to begin a critical stage in this production: the rewrite.

I have identified holes and weak spots and I've even gone so far as to figure out the solutions to these problems. I've got it all figured out. So why am I a tiny bit scared?

Well, I'll tell you. There's a big difference between actually figuring out the path you want to go and then actually walking down that path. When I revised this play into the draft it's in now, I outlined it last Memorial Day. Everything was figured out. It was exciting. I was ready to go. And then I sat in front of my computer for six months unable to write a word.

This time, I don't have the luxury of saying "eh, I'll give it time to simmer." It has to be done. Like now. Like right now. People are off in some corner of the theatre, tapping their feet and looking at their watch, waiting.

The other side of the scary coin is me wondering if I just got lucky on the humor part of the draft. What if I'm not funny anymore? What if I stood too close to the microwave last night and it zapped all the funny out of me?

Maybe I'll make myself a Shirley Temple when I write. If a Shirley Temple won't make me funny, I don't know what will.