Grassboard

"I still think you need to put it all up on a board."  Joe's response to my constant questioning about the third draft of my screenplay.

"I just want to know if you think it should be told in chronological flashbacks or if it should be nonlinear."

"Get some notecards, and..."

"I know."

I already put the script on notecards when I first started writing it two years ago, and I have a notecard feature on my scriptwriting software-- that I never use.   I think the notecards are in a file somewhere and wouldn't even apply to the current draft.  We both know I don't have a corkboard.  I've been reading Save the Cat for reminders on structure and he has a whole chapter on "the board."  Did my husband sneak a peek at this book while I was sleeping?

So, yesterday, I passed all the women in their incredible hats coming out of Church of the Nazarene and went into Office Depot with baby in a sling on my hip.   This way I could use both hands to inspect each board.  Do you have any idea how expensive corkboards are?  I've only seen cork trees in Sardinia.  Is that why?

I settled on a board made out of seagrass (it smells like vacation!) and pushpins that look like glass triangles.  Then I got really innovative and bought half-sized notecards so that I will be forced to get this sweeping epic down to its essence.

And I'm off.  It's all unwrapped and in front of me, and I have 45 minutes before a meeting (unless my little accomplice wakes up).  Just wanted to set my intention here.