Figuring out a readable (and believable) bridge between dramatic scenes is proving a challenge. Words that typically tumble out through my fingertips for an intense scene, suddenly stop flowing like an abruptly shut off faucet when it comes time to segue.
Today, I slogged through bolting one such joint together and it took forever. It was as if I was digging down through sun-baked, Texas hardtop for the words. The result? Not pretty. The gaping holes here are so big, I could drive my car through them.
Obviously, future revisions are needed.
However, the initial goal is accomplished. I’ve cobbled together a semblance of a bridge and that’s what’s important. Now, while I wouldn’t recommend walking across it just yet (unless you like these kinds of bridges), I’m not concerned. I expect to get some sort of 2:00 A.M wakeup call one of these nights telling me the best way to monkey wrench the faucet open.