Save the cat.

I have a crush on my friend's cat, Bailey. We are in love. (Drew, don't be mad.) Every day, he lies on my desk and stretches and purrs like Michelle Pfeiffer in The Fabulous Baker Boys.

Held auditions today for the character Jake, goth-garbed fifteen-year-old son of the Derby City Racquet Club manager. Have I mentioned how much I hate auditions? I like the conversations with the actors though, except when I learn, for example. that an adolescent has traveled three hours down the California coast with his parents to talk to me for twenty minutes. Have I mentioned how much I detest auditions?

Broke down today and traded in my old 3G iPhone for a new one. People heard me speak tonight without static for the first time in weeks. (Months?)

Inspired by Bailey and, to a lesser extent, his brother George (above), I am going to put the screenplay through the Blake Snyder Save the Cat test. It's a rock-solid, step by step structure that I find useful. I have a feeling it's going to fall apart around page 60, then pick up again around 85. Just a hunch. More on this later.