It was my first script, The Hannibal Heist. The scene I was working on was one in which I needed my protagonist to be in a position to set up one link in a long complicated chain. (Hannah, shopping downtown, spots Jack leaving his gym and follows him.) This scene wasn't in my original outline so may be one reason why it's such a distinct memory.
Anyway.. the trigger for this memory was thinking about the location where I was working that day... a strip mall with outlet stores. This had to be close to four years ago.
One thing that was important about this memory, this moment in time, was that my mother was still alive and she was with us that day.
My niece, nephew and mom were down with us at our weekend house. While they all shopped the outlets, I wrote. Outside, on a bench (funny though.. I can't remember if I was using my netbook PC or a notebook and pencil to write).
What really struck me about this memory is all the following...
Foremost... I miss my mom. Of course, that goes without saying but it always hits hardest when it connects to a moment... some everyday event that plays out like a film in my head. So fresh, as if it were just last week.
Another thought this memory triggered was one of guilt. We need to invite my niece and nephew down to our weekend house... and we have been terribly forgetful. We've yet to do so.
But the most amazing thing to me about this memory is the simple fact that I am connecting moments in my life, even ones from so many years ago, with my writing.
Maybe this means I have arrived? I really am a writer.
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