What Christmas Means to Me

It means waiting to hear if the damn money has cleared.

See, when you're writing movies for stars that wouldn't get recognized if they were on a billboard in Times Square, you are dependent on THE MONEY. Nothing happens until it's there. Nothing happens until it's happy. Nothing happens until it's released.

So we have actors more or less attached. We have locations scouted and reserved. We have production all revved up and ready to go.

And we have dick.

For some reason, people and banks get all uppity when it's time to put up or shut up. Theoretical money is fine and dandy, but until this bank shoves the regulations through this sewer pipe and that bank decides nobody involved is actually funneling cash to Al Qaeda and that other bank signs all the money up for day care, nobody does anything.

So here we are. We have a finished draft. We'd love to give it to Producer Dude, let him read it, give us comments so we can do revisions. We'd love to GET PAID. But we're at the mercy of money.

I bother Producer Dude every day. Lot of good it does me.

"Hi Producer Dude. How are things?"

"Fine. No word yet on the money."

"Oh. OK. So.. any word on the money?"

"I just said no."

"I know, I just thought.. maybe.. in the fifteen seconds since then..."

"No."

"Oh. How about now?"

"Not yet."

"We got a finished draft for you to see."

"Great. I can't wait."

"So.. if you'll just send over the contracts and send us the option money..."

"Can't do that until the money's released. You know that."

"I know, I know. So any word on the money? Since we started this conversation?"

"Goodbye, David."

I'll try him again tomorrow.