The Life of the Writer

INT.  TRACEY’S APARTMENT - NOV. 2010 - NIGHT

Tracey flops down on the couch next to The Man.

TRACEY

I’m going to write a book.

THE MAN

I’ll read it when you’re done.

TRACEY

Sounds great!

INT.  TRACEY’S KITCHEN – DEC. 2010 – NIGHT

Tracey dances a jig in the kitchen. It resembles flailing more than dancing. The Man looks on, confused.

TRACEY

I finished the first draft!

THE MAN

So when can you publish it?

Tracey stops dancing. She takes a swig of water, then sits on the floor.

TRACEY

I don’t know, forever? You don’t just finish a novel and send it off.

THE MAN

Why not?

INT. TRACEY’S LIVING ROOM – MARCH. 2011 – EVENING

Tracey’s on the couch. She’s talking on her cell phone.

TRACEY’S MOM

So, when is your book going to be ready?

TRACEY

I’m still revising it. It’ll be a while, Mom

TRACEY’S MOM

Well hurry up!

INT. TRACEY’S LIVING ROOM – MAY 2011 – DAY

The Man comes home from work, kicking his shoes off so they fall in the middle of the hallway. The Man approaches Tracey, who is typing at her computer.

TRACEY

How was your day?

THE MAN

Good. Tiring. Yours?

TRACEY

I got a ton of writing done tonight.

THE MAN

For your book? So is it ready to publish?

Tracey rolls her eyes and returns to the screen in front of her.

INT. TRACEY’S BEDROOM – JUNE 2011 – DAY

Tracey lies on the bed. She’s talking to her mother.

TRACEY’S MOM

So your sister told me you sent her the story again.

TRACEY

Yeah, I made a ton of revisions.

TRACEY’S MOM

After that you’re done?

TRACEY

Not even close. These are just my first revisions.

TRACEY’S MOM

Oh come on, I’m dying to read it. Hurry up.

TRACEY

I’ll do my best.

Tracey sighs.