For quite a long, long while now, I’ve been writing, re-writing, editing, re-writing my novel Reckless Joy.
The story originated as Spectacular Grit, an original teleplay for a proposed series.
In the teleplay, Jenny’s an assistant district attorney who’s forced to manage her deadbeat, estranged father’s finances:
What happens if I refuse to look after him?
Thanks a lot, daughter. I’m still in the room.
The trust will prevail, Jenny. The court will force you to fulfill the terms of your mother’s trust. But, we’re not finished. There’s one more trust Alma created.
Steve hands out more documents.
Jenny reads quickly.
Carlos sits quietly, pretending to read. He glances sideways at Jenny to catch her reaction to what's coming.
I don’t understand any of this.
She’s left you—
—a thoroughbred race horse.
The script made the top 20 in at least one prestigious screenwriting competition, but ultimately the teleplay went nowhere.
Meanwhile, the heart and soul of the story wouldn’t let me go. It demanded an outlet, and so the novel was born.
The story has evolved far from the original characters and premise. A novel is a very different entity from a script of any kind.
There’s still an estranged father-daughter relationship, and with a title such as Reckless Joy, you can expect a horse.