A difficult bit of editing/rewriting. Here is how the script came in. Both Detroit writer Mark Durfee and I agreed that it was inchoate, that is to say, really undeveloped writing:
"Yesterday, on a day when she was particularly beautiful, a Montreal woman, the fervor of her spectacularly vivid eyes outlined in eyeliner by God, held me spellbound when she told me there was more to feminine beauty than a fabulous look. To me, reaching maturity in the world’s greatest newsroom, I thought I ought by now to be immune to explosions of great beauty. In the world of beautiful women one could see such women every day: at fashion press conferences, in the great hotels, in the magazines, on the Internet, possibly even across from you at breakfast. By now, I thought, beautiful women ought to be as natural to the male eye as sex. But then, to me, women are never just natural. They happen to be a phenomenon."
"Rebecca appears before you through the steam while you are rolling around in your old mahogany- supported porcelain bathtub, the kind with brass claws attached, filled almost to the top.
A a feeling of warmth and fuzziness.
Images of Rebecca.
Rebecca, her 1920's Vogue face, the bobbed hair, a Drew Barrymore fallen into the rye one September day, swallowed, almost drowned like you in the warm comfort of your antique bathtub...(
Writer Alfred Warkertin:
Don't take offence. Says old writer Norman Podhoretz that after executing good writing, you almost want to go off and masturbate.
Says a pal, Yeah. It shows in some of Podhoretz' writing.
Maybe it's showing in my attempt at editing. :)