Random Question #32

If your partner decided s/he wanted to look up an old ex and restart a platonic friendship, how would you respond to your partner?

Four Years

Stay with me here - a few related ideas swirling around.

Last week (May 3 or 5, I can’t remember) I hit a milestone of sorts at the day job: including the time I was temping there (I temped for a few months as a temp-to-hire ), I have now been there for four years. Four years. Is that a long time? It is and it isn’t.

It is also an additional milestone for me: it is now the longest-held job I’ve ever had. In my entire life. Four years. Is that pitiful? For a guy my age? It is and it isn’t. I worked in TV for 6 years, but that was 12+ jobs (that I can think of right now) for 7 different companies, each of which lasted anywhere from 9 months to 4 days. Even of the pre-TV day jobs, the current one is the marathon winner.

All this means at least a couple of things: (a) it has been 10 years since I started working in TV and (2) it is now impossible to deny that I am officially out of the TV business. So my current day job is no longer a fluke, it is the all-time duration king. It is now the rule, not the exception.

A friend of mine (an entrepreneur, which is pretty near-identical to being a screenwriter/producer) is now getting ready to start her first “day job” in several years, maybe ever. She has emailed me asking for any pearls of wisdom I can throw her way, because she doesn’t want the day-to-day crap of the day job to overtake its real purpose: merely funding her passion. To her (and myself), I say good luck. The day job is supposed to enable you to follow your real passion, but it can so easily overtake it and become

We Should Try This

Just finished listening to a great KCRW podcast with a very inspiring idea. The podcast was about how, faced with the implosion of the record business, musicians are trying out new and creative ways of building careers. The system is broken, and instead of trying to fix it they are taking matters into their own hands and trying out more individualized business plans. One of these - www.sellaband.com - is genius; musicians hold an IPO and sell shares of their future earnings to investors for cash. The website acts as a matchmaker, connecting investors to musicians and showcasing the musicians’ work. Anybody can invest, with shares going for only $10. With the help of the website, the musicians raise the money and then record and market their music. The resulting cds and digital downloads go up for sale to the public, with the investors and the musicians sharing the proceeds. Genius. Everybody wins.

Of course, the first thing I thought was - screenwriters should do this! I should do this! And I immediately thought this because, well, this is exactly what a friend of mine tried to work out back when I first moved out here over 10 years ago. He approached me and a couple of other guys - all 4 of us writers - and pitched this very idea. He had some contacts in the oil business back home in Houston, and maybe - just maybe - they could be convinced to invest in the future earnings of 4 young, ambitious screenwriters. We would raise as much as we could and then use this money to rent an office and pay ourselves regular salaries to come in to work and write screenplays. We could then be able to make a decent living while spending all our time writing. And without the need for day jobs, just think how much we could get done between the 4 of us in a year (or more) to pitch to the studios and production companies! I thought the idea was genius and was totally on board, but the thing fell apart before we could go to investors. What can I say. My friend was ahead of his time.

So how can writers use creative new business models like these? One advantage that musicians have in this set-up is that their finished products are just that - finished products, ready for sale to the public, at 99 cents a track. For writers, especially feature screenwriters and novelists, the marketplace for selling their “finished product” isn’t the public, but instead one much smaller and much more specialized. We should challenge ourselves to come up with some kind of writers’ equivalent to sellaband.

And I’m not talking about established models like www.inktip.com and www.sellascript.com. Those are great for writers, don’t get me wrong, and my option made me a fan of inktip for life. But never forget that the business plan for those sites is to generate as much money as possible for those sites, not for the writer himself. I’m talking about something more direct. Something to finance the writing process itself.

The traditional answer has been for writers to write shorter, more sellable material while waiting for their big break - specifically writing for magazines and newspapers. Writing for the web is the obvious promised land, but I still see it as merely the most recent iteration of this traditional “day job” solution. During the strike there was all kinds of talk about Hollywood writers jumping into new ventures in the web, shredding the traditional models and getting radical, but you don’t hear so much about those ideas these days. Anybody can write and shoot a movie and put it up on YouTube, and for next to nothing. And then there’s the supposed upcoming era of the 2-minute “webisode.” But I am ambivalent about these - writing and producing short films or even shorter pieces of short films is very different from writing features. And if you want to write features, the best way to get practice is by… writing features.

Maybe my hesitancy is just the kind of old-school rigidity that is exactly the enemy in this whole issue, but I’m not convinced. The idea here is to be bold, and I don’t think a day job writing for a website while writing a real movie after work is much bolder than a day job writing for traditional media while writing a real movie after work. I thought the whole idea was to use the power of the web to subvert the whole idea of the “day job” itself. But who am I? Just a guy who can’t even get a writing gig on the web and blogs for free… while writing a real movie after work at a day job.

So… who’s got the new business plan?

Random Question #26

In what city in the world would you most like to live - and why don’t you live there?

Non-Random Question

How would you describe the direct experience of falling in love? What does the “falling” really, truly feel like? The actual physical experience, the “hot flashes” and “weightlessness” below. From Dead Guy (page 29):

[Note: Hooker is Pete's best friend, NOT a prostitute.]

                              HOOKER  
                Look, I know you guys love each
                other, but…                   
                        (he shakes his head)
                Are you seriously telling me that
                you will NEVER fall in love again?
                For the rest of your life? Is that
                what you’re saying?

                             PETE
                Yes.

                             HOOKER
                You’ll NEVER get that feeling
                again? That newness and the hot
                flashes and the, you know, feeling
                weightless, being lifted up out of
                yourself, like bunny hills on a
                roller coaster? You’re never gonna
                feel that again? You can’t turn
                that off, that’s just not how it
                works. Why would you want to,
                anyway? That feeling, like when you
                discover your new favorite song,
                that’s what life is…

     As he speaks, Hooker reaches under his seat, pulls out a
     record store bag full of new CDs, and shakes it for effect.

                             HOOKER (CONT’D)
                …being totally surprised. Finding
                your new favorite song and loving
                the hell out of it before you get
                to find another one. That’s what 
                life is.

                              PETE
                Your life, maybe.

                              HOOKER
                Damn straight.

It’s still way too long and speechy, but I think I’m getting closer. Suggestions? How would you describe it?

Quote of the Day

It is true that many creative people fail to make mature personal relationships, and some are extremely isolated. It is also true that, in some instances, trauma, in the shape of early separation or bereavement, has steered the potentially creative person toward developing aspects of his personality which can find fulfillment in comparative isolation. But this does not mean that solitary, creative pursuits are themselves pathological….

[A]voidance behavior is a response designed to protect the infant from behavioral disorganization. If we transfer this concept to adult life, we can see that an avoidant infant might very well develop into a person whose principal need was to find some kind of meaning and order in life which was not entirely, or even chiefly, dependent upon interpersonal relationships.

- Anthony Storr, Solitude: A Return to the Self, 1989

Why I Didn’t Love Sweeney Todd

Last time I mentioned my opinion that Sweeney Todd was a good movie, but not a great one. It is probably Tim Burton’s most accomplished film. I liked it, respected it, admired it… but I didn’t love it.

Why not? Just like with Steely Dan, I didn’t find anything there to get attached to emotionally. I didn’t fall in love. And because of that, the ending, while inevitable and satisfying and ironic, pretty much failed. Why? Because it didn’t feel tragic - it didn’t emotionally devastate me, and I doubt it devastated anyone else in the theater either.

And this time I think I have some answers why. They don’t unlock the writing secrets to emotional involvement or anything, but they are helpful (at least for me).

Sweeney Todd is an obsessive protagonist. His all-encompassing obsession to exact revenge is

Helicopter Anderson

Mudflap prism
Standing shoes
Snowmobile rot conceal
Bleach(ed) white blues

Lipstick machete
Skullcap soil
Curtain rod confetti
Birdhouse boil

Easy-bake urinal cake
Switchback smug
Simon sand hand in gland
Rank reek rug

One day you will come around
Knock upon my door
Step lightly now stop show me how
Leave me on the floor

Telescopic mouthfeel
Limousine crow
Subtle stretch and softly retch and
I don’t know

The Answer

One afternoon last week. Robb drives his kids Harris (age 7) and Parker (age 3) down the street.

HARRIS: Dad, can we go to the train store?
ROBB: Not today, son,we’re going to the mall. Remember we need to go get a Christmas present for your Mom from you and Parker.
HARRIS: But Dad, you said last week we could go sometime.
ROBB: I know son, and we will. But right now we need to go to get that present for your Mom. Today is our only chance to all go together.
HARRIS: But Dad, we never get to–
ROBB: I already said the answer son.
HARRIS: But we–
ROBB (interrupting, voice slightly raised): I already said the answer.

Harris mopes. Parker takes it all in.

CUT TO: That night, an hour past Parker’s bedtime. Robb reads Parker the last page of yet another storybook.

ROBB: And Thomas and Percy fell fast asleep. (putting the book away) Okay, Parker, it’s time for bed.
PARKER: I want another Thomas story.
ROBB: But that was the last book. It’s time for bed now.
PARKER: I want another Thomas story!
ROBB (tucking him in): But it’s time to tuck you in and give you a kiss good–
PARKER: I already said the answer!

Why Do Blogs (Mostly) Suck?

A friend of mine (the friend who issued The Challenge and who later did that write-up of me and who runs her own business) gets frustrated with me. Why? Well, because I have a complicated relationship with blogging (among other things).

Some people make money and even a living through blogging. I’m a frustrated writer and I have a blog, so she wonders why I don’t do this, or at least try to do this. I don’t market myself or my blog, and although intellectually I know you have to market yourself and your writing, and hard, I have an immediate skepticism and distrust (disgust?) for people who do.

In an ideal world, it’s all supposed to be on the page. If the writing’s good, people are supposed to show up. And if the writing is no good, people aren’t, and you are supposed to learn from this. But we all know where this is going.

Call me a jerk (okay, you’re a jerk), but in my opinion almost all blogs are embarrassing, a cross between PLEASE READ MY DIARY and throwing up. Like this. Many are people trying to flog their businesses, and after the first 4 or 5 posts of “this is how we make it happen!” and “you too can be a customer!” they really don’t have anywhere else to go - although they do keep going. And going. But I did say “almost” all blogs - I subscribe to a few blogs and they are invaluable. But the other 99.99% are all crap. An endless multiple-posts-per-day crap-fest.

So then why do I have a blog at all? Many reasons - one of which is probably to prove that I am better than most bloggers. I try to put fairly meaningful stuff out there for potential discussion. And this post could use some of that right about now.

Why do people blog anyway? To get attention, mostly. And again that raises my skepticism/disgust. People saying “look what I can do!” like we’re still in third grade, checking their blog stats for some measure of status. But wait - why do I write? If I am disgusted with people’s lame attempts for self-importance by blogging a bunch or useless diary diarrhea, aren’t my scripts - or at least all my talking about my scripts - the same thing? Is this post meaningful or just mental masturbation?

Talking/blogging about the process keeps me thinking about it, keeps my ideas flowing, but is that all? And even if it is, why? WHY does it keep me motivated and keep me on my toes? Because somebody may be watching?

Do “creative people” get attention because they are creative? Or are they only “creative” because they need attention?

And did I mention that other peoples’ blogs (mostly) suck?