Friday, October 27, 2006

My Own Distractions

Sometimes it's just really hard to focus and write.

While I sit at my computer, drumming my fingers, waiting for Charlie to finish his turn with the big naked midget/lacrosse/caveman epic, I am working on my own projects. Right now, I'm concentrating on a project I've had for a long time, one that My Manager loves, and is pushing me to finish.

I have the whole thing plotted out, and have for years. But for the longest time, I got about 1/3 of the way into Act 2 and I couldn't push on. I knew what needed to happen in the story, but I didn't, or wouldn't, finish.

So about a month ago I finally pushed, got through the daunting section, and have been speeding along like a supersonic monorail. Now I'm at another sticky, slow, molasses-like section that I need to plow through.

So I'm checking email. And surfing the Web. And watching all the movie trailers on, even the foreign ones that I'd never want to see in a million years. I'm sweeping up the cat litter. Pulling some weeds outside. Filing.

I only get, maybe 2 hours tops each day to write. So if I do enough other things, that time will pass and I won't have to write today.

But I'll feel guilty.

It's tough. You get into these moods. You want to write, but it's really hard. Right now, I need to break down a large action sequence. It's complicated. My brain hurts.

So I empty the dishwasher.

And blog.

I think the baby's awake. I'll have to write tomorrow.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Driven to Distraction

Last night was the night.

I’d printed off the last 20 pages of the script to refresh myself. I was going to go home eat dinner, re-read the last stuff we’d written, and open a can of screenplay whoopass.

Ate dinner. Sat down on the couch with my laptop.

Hrmmm… what’s on TV?

No. No. Must fight urge. Besides, it’s a crappy tv night. Turn off the TV.

Grab the printed pages. Read through them. Good stuff. Damn… we’re good. This is scary and funny and… what the f… I only have 10 pages here! Where’s the rest?

Boot up laptop. Scrounge for my final draft CD (I’ve used up all my installs, so now I have to shlep the actual disk between computers). Pop it in. Start the program. Open the file. Scroll to page 101.

Oh yeah. Good stuff indeed. Now that… THAT is a great line. God, I hope I wrote it. I can’t even remember anymore. Damn. It’s too good actually. Dave probably wrote it. God, I hate him.

Man. I’m hungry. Well… not so much hungry as craving ice cream. Get some ice cream. Eat it as I finish reading the pages.

Ok. Time to continue this thing. Really pound it out. And write some lines even better than that one Dave had on page 106. God, I hate him and his good lines.

Clackity clack. Hehehehe… oh yeah… that’s a good one. Suck on this Dave…

Up to a page now. Digging where this is going. Oh yeah, baby.

Huh? Oh man… it’s 12:20am. I have work in the morning. I can’t keep going. Gotta shut down and call it a night.

Save my work. Reread my new line that’s so much better than the one Dave wrote on page 106. On second thought, mine sucks. Holy Christ, I'm a hack. I don't deserve to put pen to paper. Now I’ll have to re-visit this line tomorrow. God, I hate Dave and his good lines. A pox on him and his computer.

Crawl to bed.

And Dave thinks I’m not working on this thing?! Screw him.

And his good lines, too.


Keywords: , , , , ,

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Who Says I Can't Take A Hint?

I’ve been slammed lately.

Slammed at work.

Slammed at home.

Slammed during the hours when I’m not at work or home (i.e. the commute from hell).

Slammed traveling to Zimbabwe to adopt orphaned babies.

Frankly, I’ve been slammed with everything but the one thing I need to be slammed with – wrapping up our mob-thriller/Japanese-horror-remake/political-comedy. With everything else going on, I keep neglecting writing the final scenes of the movie.

So far Dave’s been a good sport. A typical IM conversation lately has gone something like this…

Dave: Hey amigo. What’s happening?!
Charlie: Not much. You?
Dave: Oh… not much. Just writing, you know.
Charlie: Cool. How’s that going?
Dave: Good. Really good. I’m really cranking through it. Writing, that is. Practically finishing up the script I’m writing.
Charlie: Wow! That’s great!
Dave: Yeah… of course, this is one of those scripts I’m writing on my own. No partner. Did I mention I’m almost done with writing it?
Charlie: Um… yeah.
Dave: Yesiree. Practically finished up writing that 3rd act in a day. Fancy that…
Charlie: Auto-reply: Away
Dave: And you need to blog, too, you sonofabitch!

Soon, my friends. Soon.


Keywords: , , , ,

I Have Not

I have not yet heard back from my pitch.

I have not heard back from My Manager or My Agent with a rundown on the whole LA trip yet.

I have not heard anything from Producer Dude in a while.

I have not gotten Charlie's new pages in a while.

I have not written enough blog posts lately.

I have not ignored the fact that I have still written more than Charlie lately.

I have not gotten any responces from my last post. You don't love me anymore, do you?


Friday, October 13, 2006

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

Well, October anyways. And with the weather turning cold here in New York (it was in the 30's this morning! The friggin' 30's!!!) spending a week in sunny, warm, LA felt like summer.

I went and pitched. I had 13 meetings. 2 for TV. 11 for film.

I had a good week. Thanks to everyone who gave me bits of advice, everything went well, and I only had to take my clothes off a couple of times.

The TV pitches were fun, one more formality than anything, the other legit. My Manager and I have a TV pitch we've worked on and this guy likes it. So this guy is gonna bring it back to his people and see if they like it and so forth. I just hope they're ready for an all-midget version of Payton Place.

The film pitches were also fun. Lots of different reactions to the same material. From the lows of one meeting that, after about 5 minutes I knew was a total waste of everyone's time, to the highs of another meeting that went so well, I'm surprised they didn't propose.

I went in with a stable of pitches: projects of mine in one form or another that I wanted to toss out at folk. I'd get in the room, feel out the person I was meeting with, and choose which projects to pitch to them. The winner, the pitch that got the most reaction and the one I'll probably start to work on right away, was actually a story idea that both My Manager and My Agent didn't like, so it wasn't on the A list of pitches. It didn't even make it into the first couple of pitches. But I started to pull it out for fun and it was the big winner everytime. So I kept pulling it out. Ended up leading with it. I told My Manager and My Agent and they both went, more or less, "Huh. Well I guess we know what your next project is going to be."

Even more fun was when the meeting would take a turn and they'd talk about projects they wanted to pitch me. That happened three times. That's the sweet spot, because if you start working on their projects, they're already invested in the project and are driven to push it through all the red tape that can pop up.

One of those three has come around very quickly, to where I've already come home, worked on their idea, and pitched my take to them over the phone. They liked my pitch, and I'll probably know next week if I've struck gold or struck out.

So in all, a very good trip, some very good meetings, and I am totally jazzed.

Side note: One of the companies I met with would be an absolutely perfect place to land Siege, and for a lot more money than we'll ever see from Producer Dude. Am I tempted to rip it away from Producer Dude and get it set up somewhere else? Of course. But I'm not ready to be that shallow yet, that slimy. Neither, I think, is Charlie. But I have told Producer Dude that as the days tick away without any movement, he needs to be realistic with me and let it go if it's just not going to happen. Remember, Siege was written in Sept. '05 for a Dec. '05 start date. If it goes into '07 without a peep, I may bring it up again. We'll see how some other things go.

Gotta go write. Rock on.