The gentleman who arrived at our door looked like someone who would be, perhaps, even better suited to perform at a bachelorette party.
But Therefore I opened the door wide for him and spent the next few hours pretending to write as he cleaned my carpets.
When he finished, and I handed him my Visa, he smiled. “You know, Mrs. Callender, cleaning carpets is just my day job.”
“Oh?” Suddenly I felt uncomfortable.
He reached for his back pocket, pulled out his wallet and slipped a business card into my hand. “I’m a writer. And an actor.”
“Ah,” I said. “Got it.”
“This card is for my new movie . . . check it out if you want.”
I read the card aloud. “Rogue Saints: The greatest church, diamond heist, romance, comedy, drama, adventure you’ve ever seen.” I smiled. “Wow. All those things in one movie!”
When my husband got home that night, I held up the business card, moving it around as if tantalizing him with a treat. “Not sure you want to commit to just one genre?” I murmured, my voice sultry. “Try Rogue Saints: The greatest church, diamond heist, romance, comedy, drama, adventure you’ve ever seen.”
Who would fund a film that clearly had such major identity issues? Who would write a screenplay that was such a blatant, unapologetic salmagundi?
Well, my friends, the Mocker is now the Mocked as it seems I, too, have managed to write a genre-straddler of a novel. [Read more…]