Don DeLillo: Can America's greatest living novelist transition into its greatest living screenwriter?

Sometimes, between the abject trauma of hurricanes and wars and celebrity divorces, God peeks down through the clouds and smiles on His children. At least, that was the way it felt when I heard this morning that the Don DeLillo-scripted Game 6—which premiered last January at Sundance—has finally locked up a distribution deal with the California-based Kindred Media Group.

As a fan, I might not be the best person to ask about DeLillo's work; every year, I predict the guy will win a Nobel Prize for Literature and every year I am heartbroken to see it wind up in Belgium or Japan or some shit. But DeLillo—a Bronx native who defines the implications of post-World War II American culture more perceptively and eloquently than any novelist I have ever read—is pretty much a screenwriting rookie; Game 6 is his first produced script. It stars Michael Keaton as a playwright (and Red Sox fan) facing down an extra dose of demons as his new work premieres the night of the 1986 World Series' infamous sixth game between the Mets and the Red Sox .

The story features all the DeLillo hallmarks—guns, pollution, mental infirmity and of course, baseball, about which he wrote so hauntingly in the prologue of his opus Underworld (DeLillo graciously signed my copy "Go Giants!" at a reading once, despite decades of loyalty to the Yankees)—and I gotta tell you: I am geeked for this the way others geek for Peter Jackson or Joss Whedon or any number of less-deserving tools. This is big. Just please let it be good as well.

So join me in reaching for the 2006 calendar, thumbing to March 3 and scrawling Game 6 in ink. God will hate you if you miss it.