This One Time...

I got a call from a director who was in charge of a one act play I had written for a festival. He loved the script that I had written in a under a week. He only had one question. It was about a line of dialogue. One of the characters went on a little rant about religion, family, and warped priorities. The other character replied:

*

The Other Character

Boy, that's a mouthful.

*

He thought that there must be something better, more direct, or even more significant that the other character could say. I agreed. I told him that the 'mouthful' line was just me laughing at my own bulky, heavy handed speech on religion. I told him to have the character say whatever the actress felt like coming up with. He didn't really get it. There was nothing for him to get, I just realized that the moment I had written wasn't perfect and, for once, I allowed someone else to appreciate and possibly contribute to an imperfection of mine.