So. The thing that was going on is that I’m no longer trying to write a screenplay for Homing. I tried for a year, but as the renewal date for the option approached it became increasingly clear to me that the producers and I just didn’t share a vision of the project. They kept asking questions about Nathan; I kept parrying those off. Nathan is a ghost, a possible figment of the protagonist’s imagination. He is not the protagonist; Homing is not Nathan’s story, much as they wanted it to be.

I knew the impasse had come one night when I sent myself an email from a friend’s house. “Sorry,” I said, “it’s just I have an idea for my screenplay and I don’t want to forget it.” And so I took a break from the dinner party to type myself a hasty email.

The next morning when I read it, I almost cried. “Maybe Leah does leave the house,” the email said. “Just to go to the store, or scurry to Charlotte’s. She’s always guilty when she does it, but maybe she does it anyhow.”

If you’ve read Homing, you know Leah leaving the house is not really in the cards, for a variety of what I think are pretty good reasons. And I know, a housebound protagonist doesn’t instantly scream great film, but then again, that’s what the book is, so if a producer reads it, loves it and wants to make a film of it, they should come to the process aware that the whole housebound thing is a thing, you know?

Anyhow, I did, I almost cried. I couldn’t believe I was ready to sell out that part of my quiet little story.

So blah blah blah, I quit the project. It’s still going ahead… or at least, the company has renewed its option for the next year, and has the option to renew again after that. God knows who will write it. Maybe someone great. Maybe they’ll make a masterpiece of it. Or maybe it’ll be The Lovely Bones.

Regardless, I am done. And that is that. And I am glad to be free of it. I will make a shed and deck in the side yard with the money from the option and that’s a tangible positive out of it.

And next time I’ll know better.

Meanwhile, I dig in the garden, dirt under my nails, pulling goutweed and planting anemones. Tomato plants line up awaiting their new home. Ants are farming aphids on the climbing rose and the wild raisin. Who knew they farmed aphids? They’ve been sprayed with dish soap and we’ll see what happens. All the while, Fallsy Downsies grows too.

You win some, you lose some.