What was I thinking?
In the story breakdown I glibly painted a scene where a 15 year old and her two slightly unhinged friends waltz around some dark inner city pubs, emerging having bought an illegal handgun.
This gun turns out to be highly instrumental for the rest of Act 3. I can’t do without it.
But really, do we believe for a second that a reasonably unsophisticated 15 year old would be able to track down a gun in a couple of hours in a strange city with no more than a fiver in her pocket?
Not for one second.
But now I’ve got to make it work. Brilliant. Great corner to paint myself into.
First thing tomorrow morning I’m calling a policeman I know so he can laugh at me a lot before, I hope, helping me out with something that feels even faintly real.
Mind you, if I CAN make it work it should be a good sequence.
End of Act 2 in sight.