“Remember the white dress I wore through that film? George came up to me to the first day of filming, took one look at the dress and said: “You can’t wear a bra under that dress.”
“Okay, I’ll bite,” I said. “Why?”
And he said: “Because… there’s no underwear in space.”
He said it with such conviction. Like he had been to space and looked around and he didn’t see any bras or panties anywhere.
He explained. “You go into space and you become weightless. Then your body expands but your bra doesn’t, so you get strangled by your own underwear.”
“I think this would make for a fantastic obituary. I tell my younger friends that no matter how I go, I want it reported that I drowned in the moonlight, strangled by my own bra.” Continue reading
I’ve been writing discovery draft like crazy lately, and it’s always a humbling experience because the first drafts are so bad. I know they’re bad. I know while I’m typing that most of what’s going on the page is going to be deleted or rewritten, but I can’t get to where it’s got to be without starting with discovery. It isn’t even giving myself permission to suck, it’s accepting that whether or not I give myself permission, it’s going to suck. The whole time I’m doing it, I’m getting a much better grasp on the characters and the story (ye gods there are a lot of characters in this story), and I definitely have a better grip on the plot and the setting, but the suckage is still overwhelming. Still, the Discovery Draft mantra is “Don’t look down,” so I’m just sticking with the typing. All of which is to say, the posts this week are going to be crummy or non-existent because this stuff I’m writing is too bad to show even you guys, and you’re used to my discovery drafts. I did figure out how much money Nick has (it involved a compound interest calculator and googling for interest rates at various times in history) and I played around with some of the list you all made, so there’s that: Continue reading