Scotch: the thinking man's sleep tonic.

I was all set to fall asleep tonight when I suddenly began to think about my graduate thesis project. I'm writing a screenplay and hope to raise the money to produce and direct a feature-length motion picture in about a year and a half. Specifically, I want to shoot this film on location in the home my parents used to own. The house is a big Southern-style two story with a wrap around porch. It sits on a 5 acre plot with a barn. I desperately want to shoot my film on this location, and two weeks ago, I wrote a letter to the current owner asking for an opportunity to meet with her and discuss the project. She has not responded yet. This week I leave for a cruise, but I think I will write her another letter when I return. My first letter looking very professional, all typed up on my Candle Fish Pictures letterhead and everything. But then I thought, what if she never read the letter? What if it looked like junk mail to her, and she threw it out? My next letter will be hand-written. I'm not sure how far I should take this before it crosses the line from tenacity to badgering. This is extremely important to me, though. Almost to the point that I would rather not make the movie anywhere else.

Picture of the day is called, "Leaf in Fence."