Writing and more writing

Excerpt from a story I am working on ....

"... We were both kinda blissed-out and hungover after our honeymoon. Very much in awe of the ceremony and the way people cried, like they were getting married maybe? Very much in love and unsure. Then it happened, pulling out of the Phoenician, on our way home, we got rear-ended. More of a love tap then a car crash.

A blue-haired Scottsdale lady, in a big ass Cadillac. We were in tiny Honda and the beast of a car scooted us forward an inch or two. Not a big deal really. But in that moment my heart lept into my throat, a million things could have gone through my mind, but there was only one thought, “Is Carla okay? Please God, don't let anything happen to Carla.”

I didn't have to look to see if the same thing was behind Carla's eyes. She had flung her arm across my torso, as if to stop me from flying through the windshield. Our eyes met and she cried.

Our eyes met and I could breathe again. Some people get married during the ceremony, some wait until after. We waited until after, and that after created forever. But we both definitely both said “I do.”

End of birthday weekend

I have received love from friends and family from far away, but the capstone of my birthday, was the call from both my brothers. Voices across a broad expanse, the UK and California.

The thought that my brothers gave voice to when we were speaking on my birthday was, “My life in the end-zone.”

They reminded my of my truly blessed life, of all the near misses that have made up my existence. The time I almost died when I was born, the time I almost fell out of the car on the way to church, my whole teenage-hood. While they were talking my mind traveled to every “defensive tackle,” that my brothers knocked down for me over the years. Minor and major confrontations where they, “ran the screen,” so I could sneak by and land end the endzone unscathed. Running interferenece with parents when need and pushing to the coaches (Mom and Dad) when they had to.

It is true, my brothers have taught me how to run, juke, jive, spin and score. I owe them much. So now it's my turn and I look to a future of success. I know that every victory I have is a “block,” thrown, so my brothers can scoot by. That every triumph is a defensive end, “contained” so they can, “shoot the gap,” and score. Separated by geography only, there is no real separation between me and them, we truly are one team . A solid backfield in many ways. And they remind me that our team includes our friends and family. That our extended team is, "One for all and all for one."

James and Harold, I love you guys.

Signed, Raymond (the shorter, cuter one)

Road trip

I guess it's not technically a road trip since I'm flying to Los Angeles.

1. Business for Qwest
2. See my brother
3. Sell that screenplay

Ready, set, go

2nd screenplay.. In progress

Just a note to let y'all know I am still writing.

I'm working on the "pitch" for my first screenplay and writing my second screenplay.

What follows is an excerpt from my second.

The main character, Martin is talking to his wife, Mary, after a tough day at the office .....

" I'll admit this to you. I am preoccupied with sex. As a subject. It doesn't show up much in my writing, because my writing is a break from the kind of thinking I normally do.

But I admit it to you. I am still 17 years old in some ways. I think about sex at work and on the bus. I think about it on the can, I think about with jam. I think about it while reading, "Green Eggs and Ham."

You get the gist.

I try to pair people up in my mind, I think about whether or not the couple holding hands at Starbucks are good in bed together.

I try piece together who at the office is sleeping with each other.

I think about, if I was single, would I pursue a certain gymnast from my past.

Most of all I think about tantric experiments you and I should try.

But all that came (no pun intended) to a stop while contemplating my recent job change/promotion.

When did success in the workplace become more important that autonomic pursuits of the flesh?

17 becomes 40 awful quickly now a days, you know what I mean, Mary."