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Hey there drawing board, what up?

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My first two weeks of editing have produced a collection of red margin-doodles and a stunner of a tension headache. Talking to Heidi, I think I’m jumping the gun. I’m trying to get in and tackle the meat of the scenes I know need to change, but I haven’t properly figured out what they’re changing to. It might be time to back up the truck and lock down who these people are and what, exactly, they’re all trying to do. Maybe make my outline match the story again, so I can look at the structure and actually see the wood for the trees.
In the meantime, my One Tree Hill marathon continues apace. Dan’s good! Dan’s bad! Dan’s murdered his brother! But he feels kind of bad about it! I woke up one morning and Lucas’s douchebaggy Squint of Faux-Sincerity had gone from making me slightly uncomfortable (at best) to making me sort of wish CMM was aiming it at me. Which basically means the end is motherfucking nigh, as far as I can tell.
Last night Peyton declared her love (again) and Luke rejected her (again) for no logical reason other than Mark Schwahn needs to get another 18 episodes’ mileage out of their pain or he’d have to think up another reason for their lives to suck. And since between them they already have 400 dead parents (Peyton has TWO dead mothers!), a stalker and a heart condition, there’s not a lot left on the table. GOD, this is quality programming! Swear to God, when I run out of episodes, I’m going to cry myself to sleep for a WEEK. The scene where Dan gets drunk and sets Keith’s grave on fire redefined awesome. Like, in the freaking dictionary. Go ahead, look it up.

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Writer of things. Annoyer of cats. Mother of very small dragons.

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