Back in January I had an idea for a screenplay. (Doesn't everyone?) It would be a fictionalized account of the time I spent a semester abroad in Ireland, in the fall of 1996. I had only a vague idea on how to write a screenplay but a very clear idea on what it'd look like. I've seen lots of movies and I knew how to pace out stories, so with a "what-the-hell?" attitude, I jumped in. I could see the whole film so clearly in my mind. It was time to get started.
I knew there was software out there to make the formatting job easier. Some kinds cost money, some where free. I chose a free one called Celtx. Day 1, Scene 1, I turn on iTunes' random shuffle so I could listen to music while I wrote and The Pogues' "Fairytale of New York" comes on. Now, I'm not a believer in signs and portents but ... Galway, Celtx, Pogues, "and the boys of the NYPD choir were singing Galway Bay..." -- someone, somewhere wanted this written.
On Feb. 24 I started sketching out scenes. Five weeks later, on April 1, I'd finished the first draft. By the third week in April I'd finished a second draft. My wife and a friend both read it, in April and May, and returned notes and comments, and I tweaked it more. Two more friends are reading it now; more tweaking will ensue by the end of July.
This blog will (mostly) be about the agony and elation of finishing and selling the script that is tentatively called Galway '96.
Over on the right side I have a typelist labeled "Running Cost." That's going to be an estimate of how much, roughly, I've spent in pursuit of this sale. It'll include shipping costs, dinners, CDs, drinks, paper, ink, and anything else that falls under "misc." I'm lumping it all together, but I'm not counting hours spent, of course.