1.08.2008
TRAMBLINGS...
How's everyone? Much of the same on this end except for a serious family illness that will keep me in northern California for awhile. (One good thing about this damn strike, huh?) I've been here for a week after a quick return to L.A. to stock up on warm clothes, books and the files I needed for the book project. Because L.A. has actually been cold I had a bunch of new sweaters that have come in handy. You already heard about the coat but I also managed to find a long, black down jacket for $30 that I've officially moved into. It's my new address. The illness, of course, is daunting, scary, humbling and fucked-up. Good days and bad days as we deal but I have been seriously overwhelmed by the love and kindness people have shown my family. All positive thoughts and energy are welcome.
Since I was seven years old and I stapled together scratch paper to make my first "book" writing has been a refuge for me. I am trying to get back to that place during some of the down time but it's hard. My mind wanders, and for lack of a better description I can't get my mental marbles to roll in the same direction. I can actually visualize a gang of colorful marbles in my head all going every which way. The Crown Prince suggests that I take it easy and not be too hard on myself but, frankly, I'm never hard on myself so I need to get it together and be productive.
I went through my files yesterday, tried to find the seed of what got me going on this story. I had a great hour or two where I re-read pages I haven't opened in over two years. I also found notes from THE FINISH PARTY that were very helpful. They still make a lot of sense so I'll spend this evening typing them up in a sort of cheat sheet reference file. My fingers are itching, my mind is jumping to create, so it's just a matter of me taming the marbles or at least getting them to sit still and be quiet.
The wedding stuff is coming along (a nice distraction for everyone) though it looks like Sonoma or Napa may have to fill in for Santa Barbara, my first-first-first choice. I love Santa Barbara (and I always have) but it just as easily serve as a honeymoon locale. The Wine Country is just as beautiful and only an hour away from my family. We'll see.
The past couple days I've been watching Academy Screeners with the family. (A perk of WGA membership). So far I've received 3:10 TO YUMA, JUNO, THE SAVAGES, SWEENEY TODD, NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN, LARS AND THE REAL GIRL, MARGOT AT THE WEDDING, AWAY FROM HER, KNOCKED UP, DAN IN REAL LIFE, DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY, INTO THE WILD, ZODIAC, THE KITE RUNNER and THERE WILL BE BLOOD. Loved 3:10 TO YUMA (but in the interest of full disclosure one of the screenwriters is a friend of the Crown Prince), JUNO, LARS and AWAY FROM HER. MARGOT AT THE WEDDING made me want to pull out my own teeth. DAN IN REAL LIFE and THE SAVAGES held my interest but that's about all. KNOCKED UP was just not that funny to me. I know people went crazy for the movie but it didn't work for me. But, what do I know, SUPERBAD had me in hysterics.
The screenwriter of JUNO has gotten a tremendous amount of press and she deserves all the accolades. Just so well-written. The actors were great. I especially loved Jason Bateman, he just captured that broken-down weariness you see in the eyes of husbands who have one foot out of their marriage. Jennifer Garner was also impressive with her wound-up sadness. I think I'll watch again.
In the meantime, NYC/RAGAZZA pointed me toward two essays written by the creator of BROTHERS & SISTERS. Part One covers how his WORK drove him from L.A. (He was ousted from his own show). PART TWO focuses on the perils of living and loving in Los Angeles. The New York versus L.A. argument rarely covers new ground but he makes points that are shape enough to shave with. Take a look.
WOMEN'S MURDER CLUB ran it's last new epiosde on Friday the 4th. That was the last one completed before the strike. There were some repeats during the month of December but, unfortunately, mine wasn't one of them for those of you who missed it. It's also not available online but, hopefully, one or the other will change in the next few months. THE WIRE is back though and that is ALWAYS good news.
Lastly, when I decided to make the transition from author to TV writer, I had a mentor who was just amazing. I met with her weekly for six months and she always had time for me no matter what was going on in her life. She helped me with my RESCUE ME spec, read the LAW & ORDER: SVU that I'd completed before I met her, and gave me notes on the original one-hour drama I'd written the year before. She was great. She also talked a lot about opening an entertainment consultancy and this week she did just that. Visit her new WEBSITE (isn't she sooooo cute?) and if you're thinking of making the jump to television then you don't need to look anywhere else. Seriously, this woman was hugely instrumental in me getting a job on WMC. Good luck!
Until next time...
How's everyone? Much of the same on this end except for a serious family illness that will keep me in northern California for awhile. (One good thing about this damn strike, huh?) I've been here for a week after a quick return to L.A. to stock up on warm clothes, books and the files I needed for the book project. Because L.A. has actually been cold I had a bunch of new sweaters that have come in handy. You already heard about the coat but I also managed to find a long, black down jacket for $30 that I've officially moved into. It's my new address. The illness, of course, is daunting, scary, humbling and fucked-up. Good days and bad days as we deal but I have been seriously overwhelmed by the love and kindness people have shown my family. All positive thoughts and energy are welcome.
Since I was seven years old and I stapled together scratch paper to make my first "book" writing has been a refuge for me. I am trying to get back to that place during some of the down time but it's hard. My mind wanders, and for lack of a better description I can't get my mental marbles to roll in the same direction. I can actually visualize a gang of colorful marbles in my head all going every which way. The Crown Prince suggests that I take it easy and not be too hard on myself but, frankly, I'm never hard on myself so I need to get it together and be productive.
I went through my files yesterday, tried to find the seed of what got me going on this story. I had a great hour or two where I re-read pages I haven't opened in over two years. I also found notes from THE FINISH PARTY that were very helpful. They still make a lot of sense so I'll spend this evening typing them up in a sort of cheat sheet reference file. My fingers are itching, my mind is jumping to create, so it's just a matter of me taming the marbles or at least getting them to sit still and be quiet.
The wedding stuff is coming along (a nice distraction for everyone) though it looks like Sonoma or Napa may have to fill in for Santa Barbara, my first-first-first choice. I love Santa Barbara (and I always have) but it just as easily serve as a honeymoon locale. The Wine Country is just as beautiful and only an hour away from my family. We'll see.
The past couple days I've been watching Academy Screeners with the family. (A perk of WGA membership). So far I've received 3:10 TO YUMA, JUNO, THE SAVAGES, SWEENEY TODD, NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN, LARS AND THE REAL GIRL, MARGOT AT THE WEDDING, AWAY FROM HER, KNOCKED UP, DAN IN REAL LIFE, DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY, INTO THE WILD, ZODIAC, THE KITE RUNNER and THERE WILL BE BLOOD. Loved 3:10 TO YUMA (but in the interest of full disclosure one of the screenwriters is a friend of the Crown Prince), JUNO, LARS and AWAY FROM HER. MARGOT AT THE WEDDING made me want to pull out my own teeth. DAN IN REAL LIFE and THE SAVAGES held my interest but that's about all. KNOCKED UP was just not that funny to me. I know people went crazy for the movie but it didn't work for me. But, what do I know, SUPERBAD had me in hysterics.
The screenwriter of JUNO has gotten a tremendous amount of press and she deserves all the accolades. Just so well-written. The actors were great. I especially loved Jason Bateman, he just captured that broken-down weariness you see in the eyes of husbands who have one foot out of their marriage. Jennifer Garner was also impressive with her wound-up sadness. I think I'll watch again.
In the meantime, NYC/RAGAZZA pointed me toward two essays written by the creator of BROTHERS & SISTERS. Part One covers how his WORK drove him from L.A. (He was ousted from his own show). PART TWO focuses on the perils of living and loving in Los Angeles. The New York versus L.A. argument rarely covers new ground but he makes points that are shape enough to shave with. Take a look.
WOMEN'S MURDER CLUB ran it's last new epiosde on Friday the 4th. That was the last one completed before the strike. There were some repeats during the month of December but, unfortunately, mine wasn't one of them for those of you who missed it. It's also not available online but, hopefully, one or the other will change in the next few months. THE WIRE is back though and that is ALWAYS good news.
Lastly, when I decided to make the transition from author to TV writer, I had a mentor who was just amazing. I met with her weekly for six months and she always had time for me no matter what was going on in her life. She helped me with my RESCUE ME spec, read the LAW & ORDER: SVU that I'd completed before I met her, and gave me notes on the original one-hour drama I'd written the year before. She was great. She also talked a lot about opening an entertainment consultancy and this week she did just that. Visit her new WEBSITE (isn't she sooooo cute?) and if you're thinking of making the jump to television then you don't need to look anywhere else. Seriously, this woman was hugely instrumental in me getting a job on WMC. Good luck!
Until next time...
Labels: Family, Movies, THE FINISH PARTY, Writing
2.26.2007
TRAMBLINGS. . .
Okay, ya'll know by now that I am an all-day grape-flavored sucker for the OSCARS so last night was one of my favorite nights of the year. I'll admit it was a little long (okay, too long) but I enjoyed the show. I'm not hard to please. When I was little I'd panic if I wasn't sufficiently "dressed up" to watch the show. High maintenance kid but my mom was understanding and indulgent. So, every year, there I was perched on a pillow in front of the TV, wearing a party dress and slippers. This year, it was a little more sophisticated. The Crown Prince and I went to a party thrown by one of his friends. Great time. Good food. Nice people-- I think.
I stayed in the living room with the serious watchers. The "talk over the speeches" people were in the backyard. Never made it out there. Heard there were at least fifty people but C.P. brought food to me in front and I wasn't giving up my seat. Happy girl. He's always the social butterfly and I get the folks who come up and say, "Oh, you must be Chelle. C.P. said I could find you here." The caterers cooked up homemade donuts (on the premises) for a treat and C.P. snagged me some and Oscar-shaped cookies. What more can you ask for?
On Friday, in preparation for the awards, I watched BABEL, (I know people hated this movie but I didn't - AT ALL. Really loved it.) NOTES ON A SCANDAL (superb acting), WORLD TRADE CENTER (emotional) and UNITED 93. Still have to see LAST KING OF SCOTLAND, HALF NELSON, LITTLE CHILDREN and PAN'S LABYRINTH. I was glad to see Forest Whitaker win but felt a little sad for Peter O'Toole. Jennifer Hudson's speech was nice but what in the world was up with MICHAEL ARNDT'S sell-out speech about "directors being the real authors." Not loving that sentiment. Unless a director is specifically a writer/director they ARE NOT the ones battling a blank page.
I understand where Arndt was going with his entire speech (it was emotional and genuine) but I worked at the Director's Guild when I first moved to L.A (taking minutes at their board meeting) and, let me tell you, there is NO LOVE LOST between directors and writers. The contempt they held for writers was mind blowing to a novice like me, but after years in this town the disrespect seems to be a permanent part of the landscape. I fight it every step of the way and demand respect. You're not giving to me, fine, I'll take it from you. And, believe me, directors rarely want to give it. Read a couple interviews and you'll see what I mean. But, just to be fair and give Arndt the benefit of the doubt, I'll allow that maybe, the directors on this particular film were instrumental in the writing of the script. Could be true but, still, an unfortunate choice of words. Nice speech overall, loved the movie, yet I hated that small sentence in an otherwise lovely moment. Moving on to . . . BOOKS.
"It was another hot night, dry and windless. The kind that makes people do sweaty, secret things. I wait and I listen."-- A DAME TO KILL FOR: FRANK MILLER'S SIN CITY by FRANK MILLER.
"The haunt of Grand Central Station was a small girl with matted hair and dirty clothes. She appeared only in the commuter hours, morning and evening, when the child believed that she could go invisibly among the throng of travelers in crisscrossing foot traffic, as if that incredible face could go anywhere without atrracting stares. Conccessionaires reached for their phones to call the number on a policeman's card and say, "She's back." -- FIND ME by Carol O'Connell.
"Here was what Mary still found extraordinary: on the day before Stella died, nothing unusual happened. There were no signs, no premonitions, nothing but the simple daily routine of their life together - she and Dylan and Stella. Her neighbor when she lived in San Francisco, on a high hill in North Beach, had been an old Italian woman named Angelina. Angelina always wore a black shawl over her head, and thick-soled black shoes, and a black dress. "People should know you're in mourning," she told Mary. "When you wear black they understand." -- THE KNITTING CIRCLE by ANN HOOD.
"After the explosion, the driver of the overturned school bus stood beside the wreckage, his clothes in shreds. He was cupping his hands to his ears, as if to spare himself the noise of sirens, car alarms, bullhorns, whistles, and tumbling masonry. When he brought his hands away and held them in front of his face, both palms were dripping blood. His mouth opened wide in a scream that was lost in the surrounding din." -- SURVEILLANCE by JONATHAN RABAN.
"The playback: late night, Brooklyn, a pot of coffee, and a chair by the window. I'm listening to a mix tape from 1993. Nobody can hear it but me. The neighbors are asleep. The skater kids who sit on my front steps, drink beer, and blast Polish hip hop - they're gone for the night. The diner next door is closed, but the air is still full of borscht and kielbasa. This is where I live now. A different town, a different apartment, a different year." -- LOVE IS A MIX TAPE: LIFE AND LOSS, ONE SONG AT A TIME by Rob Sheffield. I know I already plugged this but so what.
"It started different ways, but always ended the same. This time he'd been in church. It wasn't the Nativity, but he'd known that he was in the old neighborhood. A deep voice intoned alien words. Stained glass spilled bloody light across polished pews. Karen held a hymnal, terror squirming in her eyes. He'd tried to read the book, knowing the key to her fear lay on the page, but the words twisted and blurred. Sliding metal rattled behind him. In the half awareness of an ending dream, he knew he wouldn't make it, that he couldn't impose sense onto this world in time. He looked up to find that Karen had turned into Evan, and that the hymnal had become a pistol aimed at Danny's chest." -- THE BLADE ITSELF by MARCUS SAKEY.
Now, back to the OSCARS or, at least, Oscar Fashion. I love this part of it but today I watched E'S horrendous Fashion Police show. I wanted to see all the dresses so I tried to suffer through all the inane chatter but damn are they asking a lot. I mean, these folks were clowns and not the good time. The two Jays from America's Top Model brought their tacky horror show to another channel. Why am I supposed to believe anything they say about fashion when I'm looking right at them. One has on way too much make-up (for a man or a woman). What's up with all that heavy foundation? He has an unintentional Little Richard thing going and the second one, Miss Jay, has this weird nappy-ass hair that's also shellacked. Bizarre. I'd love to hear what real fashion people have to say but this was too much.
On more positive notes, I caught up on ROME. Excellent. And I am so impressed with CRAIG FERGUSEN'S GORGEOUS SPEECH. Nice. Watch the whole thing.
Until next time. . .
Okay, ya'll know by now that I am an all-day grape-flavored sucker for the OSCARS so last night was one of my favorite nights of the year. I'll admit it was a little long (okay, too long) but I enjoyed the show. I'm not hard to please. When I was little I'd panic if I wasn't sufficiently "dressed up" to watch the show. High maintenance kid but my mom was understanding and indulgent. So, every year, there I was perched on a pillow in front of the TV, wearing a party dress and slippers. This year, it was a little more sophisticated. The Crown Prince and I went to a party thrown by one of his friends. Great time. Good food. Nice people-- I think.
I stayed in the living room with the serious watchers. The "talk over the speeches" people were in the backyard. Never made it out there. Heard there were at least fifty people but C.P. brought food to me in front and I wasn't giving up my seat. Happy girl. He's always the social butterfly and I get the folks who come up and say, "Oh, you must be Chelle. C.P. said I could find you here." The caterers cooked up homemade donuts (on the premises) for a treat and C.P. snagged me some and Oscar-shaped cookies. What more can you ask for?
On Friday, in preparation for the awards, I watched BABEL, (I know people hated this movie but I didn't - AT ALL. Really loved it.) NOTES ON A SCANDAL (superb acting), WORLD TRADE CENTER (emotional) and UNITED 93. Still have to see LAST KING OF SCOTLAND, HALF NELSON, LITTLE CHILDREN and PAN'S LABYRINTH. I was glad to see Forest Whitaker win but felt a little sad for Peter O'Toole. Jennifer Hudson's speech was nice but what in the world was up with MICHAEL ARNDT'S sell-out speech about "directors being the real authors." Not loving that sentiment. Unless a director is specifically a writer/director they ARE NOT the ones battling a blank page.
I understand where Arndt was going with his entire speech (it was emotional and genuine) but I worked at the Director's Guild when I first moved to L.A (taking minutes at their board meeting) and, let me tell you, there is NO LOVE LOST between directors and writers. The contempt they held for writers was mind blowing to a novice like me, but after years in this town the disrespect seems to be a permanent part of the landscape. I fight it every step of the way and demand respect. You're not giving to me, fine, I'll take it from you. And, believe me, directors rarely want to give it. Read a couple interviews and you'll see what I mean. But, just to be fair and give Arndt the benefit of the doubt, I'll allow that maybe, the directors on this particular film were instrumental in the writing of the script. Could be true but, still, an unfortunate choice of words. Nice speech overall, loved the movie, yet I hated that small sentence in an otherwise lovely moment. Moving on to . . . BOOKS.
"It was another hot night, dry and windless. The kind that makes people do sweaty, secret things. I wait and I listen."-- A DAME TO KILL FOR: FRANK MILLER'S SIN CITY by FRANK MILLER.
"The haunt of Grand Central Station was a small girl with matted hair and dirty clothes. She appeared only in the commuter hours, morning and evening, when the child believed that she could go invisibly among the throng of travelers in crisscrossing foot traffic, as if that incredible face could go anywhere without atrracting stares. Conccessionaires reached for their phones to call the number on a policeman's card and say, "She's back." -- FIND ME by Carol O'Connell.
"Here was what Mary still found extraordinary: on the day before Stella died, nothing unusual happened. There were no signs, no premonitions, nothing but the simple daily routine of their life together - she and Dylan and Stella. Her neighbor when she lived in San Francisco, on a high hill in North Beach, had been an old Italian woman named Angelina. Angelina always wore a black shawl over her head, and thick-soled black shoes, and a black dress. "People should know you're in mourning," she told Mary. "When you wear black they understand." -- THE KNITTING CIRCLE by ANN HOOD.
"After the explosion, the driver of the overturned school bus stood beside the wreckage, his clothes in shreds. He was cupping his hands to his ears, as if to spare himself the noise of sirens, car alarms, bullhorns, whistles, and tumbling masonry. When he brought his hands away and held them in front of his face, both palms were dripping blood. His mouth opened wide in a scream that was lost in the surrounding din." -- SURVEILLANCE by JONATHAN RABAN.
"The playback: late night, Brooklyn, a pot of coffee, and a chair by the window. I'm listening to a mix tape from 1993. Nobody can hear it but me. The neighbors are asleep. The skater kids who sit on my front steps, drink beer, and blast Polish hip hop - they're gone for the night. The diner next door is closed, but the air is still full of borscht and kielbasa. This is where I live now. A different town, a different apartment, a different year." -- LOVE IS A MIX TAPE: LIFE AND LOSS, ONE SONG AT A TIME by Rob Sheffield. I know I already plugged this but so what.
"It started different ways, but always ended the same. This time he'd been in church. It wasn't the Nativity, but he'd known that he was in the old neighborhood. A deep voice intoned alien words. Stained glass spilled bloody light across polished pews. Karen held a hymnal, terror squirming in her eyes. He'd tried to read the book, knowing the key to her fear lay on the page, but the words twisted and blurred. Sliding metal rattled behind him. In the half awareness of an ending dream, he knew he wouldn't make it, that he couldn't impose sense onto this world in time. He looked up to find that Karen had turned into Evan, and that the hymnal had become a pistol aimed at Danny's chest." -- THE BLADE ITSELF by MARCUS SAKEY.
Now, back to the OSCARS or, at least, Oscar Fashion. I love this part of it but today I watched E'S horrendous Fashion Police show. I wanted to see all the dresses so I tried to suffer through all the inane chatter but damn are they asking a lot. I mean, these folks were clowns and not the good time. The two Jays from America's Top Model brought their tacky horror show to another channel. Why am I supposed to believe anything they say about fashion when I'm looking right at them. One has on way too much make-up (for a man or a woman). What's up with all that heavy foundation? He has an unintentional Little Richard thing going and the second one, Miss Jay, has this weird nappy-ass hair that's also shellacked. Bizarre. I'd love to hear what real fashion people have to say but this was too much.
On more positive notes, I caught up on ROME. Excellent. And I am so impressed with CRAIG FERGUSEN'S GORGEOUS SPEECH. Nice. Watch the whole thing.
Until next time. . .
Labels: Books, Clowns-The Bad Kind, Fashion, Movies, Oscars
