Roman Coppola
I remember, Roman, while we were writing it, we-- You always described it as being... That our writing process was that we were in a forest... Well, how did you--? How would you--? What did you say exactly? It was something to the effect that we were in a forest, and we had-- We were going someplace that we'd been to before, but we didn't have a map, yet we knew, when we had various signposts along the way or features, that was correct. It's like, "Oh, yeah, there's a stream, that's right. That's-- We're getting closer." So it was just a sensation of rediscovering something that we already knew-- You know, that already kind of existed. We were just finding it again. And you used to say-- Like, when we'd come up with something that felt right, you'd say, "Yeah, that's in the forest." - "It's in the forest." Yes, yes. We knew those woods. It seems like often when people are writing, they will-- They-- People describe this sort of metaphorical thing of, it's as if the thing already exists and you know it's right when it's-- That seems like the thing that was preordained to go there when you come up with that. But I guess it's not ever truly the case. I mean, it-- But it really is-- That is the sensation so often. - Yeah. When the thing really feels right, you say, "Gosh--" And often there's this thing that happens where there's something that you've written and sort of set it aside, some fragment of a scene or some idea for something that keeps getting rejected and not working out, and then all of a sudden, you say, "Oh, you know what? It's this." Hmm. - "It fits in here." Then you really do think there is some overarching structure that we're not totally aware of. Anyway, something subconscious is sometimes at work, it seems like, with making stories. Wake up, Jack.
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