Matthew S. Rotundo's Pixeltown

Aaand chapter 1 of Apocalypse Pictures Presents is now officially rewritten.  Along with a bit of chapter 2.  You know what that means, kids.  That’s right:  it’s the return of Magic Meter!

Pardon me; I’m a bit giddy with excitement.  As I’m sure y’all are.

*takes a few moments to regain composure*

OK, I’m back now.  Wasn’t that just . . . swell?

Well, I’m pretty jazzed about it, anyway.  The dread of this project has been intimidating me, and consequently inhibiting my productivity.  But no longer.  I’m in it now, for the duration.  If I don’t make it back alive, do think well of me.

A snippet:

Gil studied her face, so intent and earnest.  Actors.  The technical aspects of filmmaking came so naturally to him–once one got past niggling details like securing enough supplies to stave off dehydration and starvation, getting permission to shoot in locations overseen by heavily armed and paranoid xenophobes, and working in conditions that could charitably be called primitive, all to make a movie that very few in the country even had the equipment to view.  But none of Gil’s skills with cameras, scripts, or lighting could help him deal with an amateur actress wrestling with her own insecurities.

The wrong word here could shatter her confidence, eliminate any chance of getting the shot.  On the other hand, any equivocation would lose her respect.

Actors.

Write Club update:  Tier one bounce from The Dark.  Response time, half a day.

I’m outta here.

Fiddled around with some database updates, caught up on some correspondence, and began the Apocalypse Pictures Presents rewrite.

Ahem.  That’s what’s known as burying the lead, folks.

But really, it’s a very small beginning, and there’s a lot of work in front of me.  As I considered the project, it occurred to me that somewhere in the second act, the story takes a wrong turn.  That’s where the most drastic rewriting will happen, I think.  In the meantime, though, I need to rebuild my protagonist from the ground up—which ain’t exactly small potatoes.

It’s a start, anyway.

No updates for Write Club.

Onward.

The galley proofing.  Is done.

Yeesh, that took so much longer than it should have.  Proofing galleys can be drudgery, especially for a longer work, but I really appreciate the opportunity to clean up those little glitches that always crop up when a manuscript is typeset—as well as those infelicities I had missed on my many read-throughs of the story.  I mean, really, how could I have overlooked that I’d used the phrase for all intents and purposes twice in as many sentences?

Yeesh.

Anyway, it’s done, and now I can finally return to the rewrite of Apocalypse Pictures Presents.  For realz this time, folks.  I’m going in.  Cover me.

No updates for Write Club.

BANZAI!