Curious George and more war time propaganda.
Last night I awoke from my slumber to make a note in my journal. I remember thinking that the idea I wrote down would spawn a brilliant script for a stage play. The scripts sheer genius would make it a smash hit on Broadway, thus requiring me to think about its screen adaptation. After carefully weighing all of my options I decided it would be
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I remember I had a dream the other day that I had this absoutely perfect idea for a novel, so perfect that it would make me famous and sell millions, and it was just on the tip of my tounge and I would write it so fast.
When I woke up I had no idea what the sorty was, but damn it still felt that I had a great idea.
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