Death metal on an Acoustic guitar
I drive to the Directors house, my Ovation guitar on the back seat. I no longer have a home recording studio I have a photographic studio instead. So if she wants recordings she can do the recording herself. I'll just play. It was a very intense few hours, fine tuning the story line for Act 2. Arguing about motives, plot lines and plausibility. All my incredibly brilliant ideas trashed at a stroke and new ideas thought up. Whole songs ripped to shreds because NOW they don't work. They have to be rewritten to fit in. New tunes thought up.
I am torn between thinking that if I knew it was going to be this hard I wouldn't have started in the first place and the satisfaction of seeing something take shape. An idea developing into something real.
The Director has never been under any illusion that it was going to be easy. She has always said it's going to be hard work to put it together. But that has never dimmed her enthusiasm and drive.
"Come on talk to me. What happens before the massacre?"
"errrr what do you mean?"
"What drives them to this point?"
"The stand off."
"Yes I know but what exactly happens?"
"Help.... I know the story it's all in my head but now you're asking questions I about stuff I hadn't even thought of."
"That's my job as Director So come on think. Work with me. It's a great story but we've got to fill in the gaps and there's plenty of them. "
I sit with my head in my hands, my mind spinning. I've got to concentrate. She works so fast and asks so many questions it's relentless. I can't keep up. I stand up.
"Where are you going?"
"Nowhere I think better if I'm walking." So I pace up and down the room throwing out ideas. Some stick. We get to one of my songs. "This isn't going to work." she says "can you rewrite it?"
"Why not?" I pick up my guitar and play the song changing it from a major to a minor key, "that's better already now change the rhythm." I'm playing something like death metal on an acoustic guitar, "Now you're getting there."
Were getting somewhere.