Day three of the journal and already we've gone through a major redesign.
Sure, it looks good, or at least better than it did, but this thing is becoming
a time-sucker of epic proportions. It took me hours to design and
code all this. And remember how I said I hoped that working on this journal
would help me spend more time writing my scripts? Guess how much writing
I did today? None! Sure, I also went to the movies with my wife Beth, but the bulk
of my time today was spent hunkered down in front of the monitor, playing
with this thing. If I'm going to spend that much time at the computer not
writing, I've got better ways to do it. I've got Quake, Mechwarrior 2, Duke
Nukem, Scrabble, and that favorite of procrastinating writers everywhere,
Freecell. It's not like I needed this project to help me waste time,
you know? Grumble, grumble...
All right, enough bitching. On with the bidness at hand. My day started
out promisingly. The other day, during the "My agent's dumping me!"
panic, I called a friend -- an acquaintance, really -- who's a heavyweight
screenwriter to ask if he'd give me a referral to his manager, who's a heavyweight
in his own right. I can't name names, but you've seen this manager's name
on the front page of the trades, and unless you avoid Hollywood blockbusters
I can guarantee you you've seen at least one of my friend's movies. So anyway,
my friend was returning my call. He very nicely declined to refer me to
his manager, obliquely suggesting that I was far, far, far too smalltime
to be worth this guy's attention. And he's right. I was embarrassed that
I'd asked. But it was still a good way to start the day because:
- He returned my call, which was really nice of him.
- He seemed genuinely concerned about my representation.
- He invited me to call him again to kick around ideas if I wanted to.
The third item there is the important one. You see, I'm in the middle
of breaking the rules I spell out on my Sitcom
Format 101 page: I'm writing a pilot. And when I'm finished with this
pilot I'm going to take it to him and see if he's interested in doing it
with me. I can't give details, obviously, but it's not a sitcom and I have
a feeling it's something he'd be interested in doing. And if he doesn't
like it I'll just give it to my brother, who's been chewing my ear off lately
to write something for him so he can shoot it on video and use it as a reel
to get into film school or something. I'll either get rich or get my brother
off my back. I can't lose!
On the home-front, I mentioned I went to a movie today. "Conspiracy
Theory." For the second time. It's not worth seeing twice, but I had
to do it in the interests of marital harmony. I go to a lot of movies. I
see most of what comes out. Beth doesn't, and it's a sore spot with her
that when we do get to go together, I rule out just about everything she
wants to see because I've already seen it. So I told her that I'd go to
any movie she picked as long as the words "Merchant/Ivory" weren't
in the credits. And she chose -- what are the odds??? -- a movie I'd seen.
I bit my tongue, didn't tell her I'd already seen it, didn't cheat and try
to convince her that she really meant to say "Copland," and went
to the movie with her and made her happy. And she didn't like it. How's
that for gratitude?