Just back from the new Writer's Store location in Burbank. One can now buy brads in the Valley. Proof miracles happen!
Today's lament: Borographers. You know who you are. You take a perfectly good dead person and try to pull a Frankenstein, only you adore them so much you can't bear to flesh them out. So instead they stumble around half-fleshed, scare the villagers, and leave bits of foot and arm on the floor where they smack into things.
Real people were once real people. Science tells us this. Yes, it's hard to get a full arc going when the end result is obvious (like William Wallace *wasn't* going to open a can of Iron Bru on the English) but it's still important to take a swing at one.
This isn't The Simpsons. "It's just a bunch of stuff that happened" is not good enough, even if it's historically accurate.
