Thursday, January 8, 2009

Attacking My Baby

Classes started a few days ago and my script writing class is... "interesting" to say the least. Its the smallest class I've EVER been in; there's just nine of us- 5 gals, 4 guys. Our assignment for the class is to write a love story. (I feel bad for the guys who were looking forward to their slasher/horror flick.) I thought I'd be okay with the story idea I presented when applying for the class, but I thought wrong. We got our treatments back, the two page idea of our scripts, and I wasn't so pleased with the comments I got. My romantic comedy with a dash of action adventure didn't cut it because according to my Professor, I can't do both. I have to pick one (namely the romatic comedy aspect). Now I'm faced with the daunting task of butchering my baby, the story I've been working on/slaving away/creating for the past year and a half or so. To me, that's like telling Da Vinci that he needs to pick a side- Mona Lisa either has to be smiling or not, she can't have this ambiguous look. Okay, okay, that's a dramatic comparison. In any case, I'm disappointed and worried my movie won't be what it could have been...

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