But I digress.

I guess there just came a point where using a computer and keeping everything in an insanely complicated series of nested folders made more sense. I was paperless, and once I developed a backup system that would impress the CIA, I never had to worry about misplacing a hastily scribbled note.

This was all before I tried to write a novel. There’s something simple and straightforward about a screenplay. You just plow through it until you get everything worked out and in its proper place. A novel is slightly more complicated. No, check that, it’s much more complicated, and there came a point yesterday when I realized the only way I hope could wrangle it was to return to the papered world.

So, I went out and bought a printer, paper, a binder, ruled notebook paper, red ink pens, tabbed separators, and a fresh pack of post-it notes.

Something tells me Ed Begley Jr. would not be pleased.

I just kept expecting this to happen with my most recent attempt.

Still, I plugged away at my outline, using the same technique I’ve always used for film treatments, and before I knew it, I was looking at an outline that clocked in at just under 20,000 words. Trust me, no one was more surprised than I.

I feel pretty good about this.