Imagine having waited six years for someone to make a film adaptation of your favourite book. Now imagine yourself sitting in a theatre eagerly anticipating what you believe deserves to be the cinematic equivalent of Star Wars. But almost from the outset you realize it’s not going to be Star Wars, it’s actually Space Balls. Except it isn’t meant to be a parody, it’s meant to be a dramatic interpretation of your book. Welcome to my world last night, when, for the first time in my life, I seriously considered walking out of a theatre.
The majority of this post was written on Tuesday night, from about 11:30 onwards. I was wide awake and extremely restless. Which doesn’t really seem like blog-worthy news; realistically, a third of Vancouver was also probably awake. But, since Wilf and I live like an old married couple, being awake past 10 p.m. on a weekday (hell, any day) is, actually, quite a rarity. And it all started at about 8:12 p.m. when I had a coffee post-dinner. I didn’t think 200mL of drip-brewed house blend would have an effect. Should have known better. Should have trusted gut instinct and life experience. But, I suppose the reprieve from sleep gave me time to reflect. And, ultimately, share that reflection with others.