2. It’s my crazy family.
How can you not write fiction when life hands you material?
My Christmas from hell. The first time I met my new family-in-law.
The dog bit the baby, who had to be rushed to the hospital. We put the dog in the back yard, where she proceeded to tear the screen door off. When the baby got back from the hospital, we put him on the kitchen counter so he could watch us fix the screen door; he put his foot down the disposal and it ground up his shoe and almost his tiny foot.
Dad-in-law was drunk and knocked the tree over; it caught fire and the older nephew burned his hands trying to put it out.
Nana had the flu and had diarrhea all over the front porch.
Mom-in-law was drunk and refused to come in from her trailer.
Eddie forgot to get his wife a gift; rushed out on Christmas Eve and got something at Wal-Mart. A fake fur jacket. It didn’t fit Becky. She threw it out the door into the side yard.
Jim got me BATH SALTS, which is a gift my mother used to buy for every elementary school teacher I had. Woman=bath salts. Not to be topped by Becky, I threw those out in the yard and got in the car to drive home to Oakland.
And that is why I Am a Screenwriter.