About a week ago, I was having lunch with two friends and we were discussing ideas for films. I mentioned that years ago my friend Julie and I had written a script called "The Wives Are in Connecticut" about the state of marriage/relationships and women juggling careers, children, family life. Although we'd written the script long ago, my friends and I realized that not too much has changed. I decided I would update the script and send it out again. Seemed like a good idea. We'd won some screenwriting contests with it, had a terrific reading at Lincoln Center through NY Women and Film, and it was optioned.
I went home from the lunch and immediately started looking for the script. I couldn't find it. I couldn't find it on my computer or in a hard copy. I found every other script I ever wrote, even multiple copies, but not that one. I admit it, I'm a bit disorganized, but we've also moved three times in the past six years. We even had a video of the reading and I couldn't find that. I figured I would just ask my writing partner Julie for the script - but she said she didn't know where it was either. She's also moved several times in the past seven years. I refuse to believe that this is a lost cause though.
Later on, I was talking to my friend B, and she said whenever she loses something, like a pair of earrings, she prays to Saint Anthony, the patron saint of lost things. Jews don't have patron saints of lost things. We just wait for a sale and replace it.
Anyway, B said Saint Anthony always works for her. Maybe not immediately, but the item she's lost almost always turns up. So I thought why not? I'll try it. (I used to go to a hair dresser named Anthony and I always liked him.)
ROBIN: "Dear Saint Anthony (not the hair dresser), please help me find my script for "The Wives are In Connecticut" because I could never re-write it and I think it's a pretty good script. I don't even need the disk or to find it on a computer, I would suffer and re-type the whole damn thing, if I could just find it. Thanks!"
So, as I went to bed last night, I glanced at the bookshelf right next to the bed and there right in front of me was not the script for "The Wives Are in Connecticut" - but a book I've been looking for for months.
Not bad. Keep looking, Saint Anthony.