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.

the art of being a writer