and I commented on some books they could make into movies that would be effing WONDERFUL if they actually stuck to the story. She said
"Oh, pleez jeezus, I would spend all my money for a ticket.
Are you *%($#ing listening, Hollywood? I would murder people in their beds to see a good big-screen adaptation of Counting The Cost."
Hell, yeah. I'd buy a ticket for me, my daughter, my friend the gunsmith and son. And buy the disc. Maybe two, one for a gift.
But it wouldn't win at Cannes, or be praised by the usual suspects, so the chances of someone in Hollyweird actually having the brains and determination to do it... low. Very low.