Things don't happen, and some things do

Yesterday felt smashingly productive. I got another three pages done in Mammals in Collision, finished the edits on Radiostar, got a call from Juliet saying that she had gotten out of rehearsal #1 early and wanted to meet in Berkeley for frozen yogurt, and then came home and added the musical transitions and intro to the Radiostar episode. In the midst of all this, I got another call (this time from Christopher DeJong) informing me that Radiostar Improv was going to be in the San Francisco Fringe Festival in September. This will make our fourth ever live performance, and our first series of shows.

This morning felt less productive at first. Our numbers for tonight's recording session went from seven, to six, to five, to four due to conflicts, illness, illness, and more illness. We had cancelled last night's session for similar reasons and once we hit four (with one possible drop out due to ... illness), it became clear that tonight would not be spent on mic.

I was bummed, but consoled myself with the thought that I wouldn't have to haul all the gear out to San Francisco, which meant that I wouldn't have to use City CarShare. Not spending money or hauling heavy and expensive gear is always a good consolation prize.

It didn't help that neither I nor Juliet got much sleep thanks to Benedick, who has the very habit of not letting us get a solid eight hours... ever. You'd think that a queen size bed would be adequate for two humans and an 11 lb dog, but you'd be wrong. He seems to swell in the night. Suddenly you awaken to find that he's stretched and his paws are digging into you, or that there's this large furry lump burrowed into the small of your back.

So, tired and mildly frustrated, I jumped in the shower. It was there that I had an epiphany.

I first had the idea for Mammals in Collision about five years ago. I wrote out the outline, and then it sat for years. I always wanted to work on it, but I was so concerned about how to deal with the third act that it became very easy to leave on the back burner. Ultimately, I knew that the play didn't have an ending. I knew the crux of the third act. I knew the issues. But no matter how it played out, it would turn from a comedy into a tragedy... even if it was a tragedy deferred.

This morning, amidst the steam and soap, it came to me. An ending. A brilliant ending. An ending that maintained the tone I had been setting as I wrote the last few weeks. An ending that worked.

I emerged, electrified.

I still need to finish act two, which I think I can do today. But now I know exactly where I am heading. I have a destination, which I'd had for the ends of the first two acts, but not for the whole play.

It's going to be a very good day.