Literary Serendipity

A couple of days ago I was at my friend's restaurant in Playas de Tijuana, sitting outside, drinking a cold Tecate draft beer and watching the sunset. I like to make it a point to watch sunsets over the ocean. It gives me some sort of vital energy and inspiration. There was only one other customer there, and he was inside under the palapa roof where it is nice, but there isn't a view. The man looked like a dead ringer for a younger Francis Ford Coppola, with a bushy beard, and mad, creative eyes.

As the sun began to set the man came out by my table and we both were watching the sunset. "Do you mind if I sit here with you?" he asked in a thick Eastern European accent. So we sat in silence and then he said, "Isn't it amazing, isn't it wonderful that we as humans are drawn to the beauty of nature? And that each sunset is unique?"

Marveling at the natural beauty before us we began to chat. I told him I am a writer. "Published?" he asked.
"Yes." And I went on to describe my books, then asked him where he was from.
"Croatia," he replied.
"Oh, there have some good basketball players that come from over there, don't they?" I asked.
"They used to," he replied.
"What is your name?" I asked.
"Roman."

He had lived in Rio de Janeiro and he told me that the women there were beyond the most beautiful women you have ever seen: even better than Cuban beauties. "And they fall in love with you, right away!" About ten minutes into the conversation he said, "I am a writer, and I am published too -- just not in English. This is my problem: I can speak it but I do not know the grammar very well. But I have a screenplay and I am working with the most powerful screenwriter in Hollywood. He is behind many major movie projects."

Roman told me he used to be a millionaire in the computer business in New York City until "they stole it from me" and he ended up homeless. Down and out, he wrote to the noted screenwriter and he replied. Roman ended up scraping up enough to come out to the West Coast and the noted screenwriter critiqued his screenplay, ripping it to shreds.

"He told me to get rid of my main character! I couldn't believe it!" Roman cried.

We talked about how that feels when someone gives you a stinging critique and at first you resent it deeply -- it just pisses you off. It's like someone telling you that your kid is stupid and ugly.

But then, if you really, really think you begin to realize that person did you a great favor, and they were right. And you can start the re-write and make the script much better than before. That's what F. Ray Mouton (Pamplona) did for me last year when I thought I was done with my novel. He did the same thing a few years ago with my "Brando" play, and ultimately, he was dead on and I was spurred to greater heights.

Roman then stopped the conversation and said, "Excuse me, I just want to catch the last of this sunset." Of course, I did too.

So we sat in silence and admired the glorious last rays settle over the expanse of the sea.

Walking home I thought, "It's not every day that you meet a Croatian screenwriter in Mexico."