I be a good righter.

Thursday, December 06, 2007

SCREAM it up.

The days are bleeding together at this point. Though, you'd think with this week's drama at Warner, it wouldn't. There was the day so and so turned up. Another so and so and this so and so have been fighting inside the blogosphere. It came to a very anti-climactic head -- further proving that a lot of people's bluster on the internets is just that. Bluster.

What's nice is that, after a week on vacation, I come back to the line to find that people have actually been wondering where I am. I'm not needed (nor missed) in many avenues of my life, so, you know, hearing this made my week. Hell, it made my rest of the year.

A lot less chanting these days, what with Warner clearly colluding with the city and JACK HAMMERING the fuck out of the streets in front of Gate 2.

One of the people on the line asked me if I'd been sprucing up my specs. I haven't. I don't know why. I've got the energy to write. I've got a spec that's desperate for a make-over. I've got ideas for new specs. Of existing shows. Of pilots. Of, gasp, a feature (an OscarĀ® contender, natch). Of completely revamping old pilots...

I've got this problem though, I can't really move on to the next thing till I've completed what I know I need to complete on this one pilot spec I'd written a while ago. It weighs on my mind night and day and day and night. Guilt. At this point, though, it's my mom nagging me to get my homework done before I can go out and play.

Look, I know exactly what I need to do to this pilot. As I put it to the amazing Kira, it's like that colored sand in a vase. You know, all these different layers of sand. All a different color from the next. It's nice to look at when it's layered like that. It's even prettier when you take a tooth pick and dip it through the various layers. Each layer then blends, sort of, into the next, just at that point where you used the tooth pick. Haven't been to camp recently? Trust me, it's pretty.


That's my script. It's all pretty layers. Pretty colors. It's pretty to look at. Thing is, the layers are all so different from one another. And they need to be less so. I need to poke a tooth pick through them.

Today on the line, I got talking to a guy who writes for a show I love. A show with similar layers, yet they use the tooth pick -- deftly, I might add. So, you know, we talked forever. And we get around to talking about writing. I decide to broach my issue with my spec pilot. I tell him about the layers (uh, he didn't really get that reference -- hence my lengthy description above). I tell him about my struggle. He talks me through it. It's simple:

Choose which layer is the most important. Ensure that every scene reflects that. He referenced SCREAM, which is actually very apropos -- because that's exactly what I'm trying to do (the merging of two genres -- though neither are horror). He says: it's clear that horror was the obvious layer in SCREAM. Every single scene reflects that. Even when it's an innocuous-seeming high school scene, it at least references the undercurrent of fear.

Maybe this is something y'all already know. I think, somewhere in the back of my mind, it's something I knew.

I would love to end this post with me coming screeching home, opening Final Draft, and poking that tooth pick through all of the sand. Alas, life got in the way. But, I know what I need to do now. And, I have a plan of attack.

Oh, and I found out today that because of government brilliance, hubby and I could have totally (and irresponsibly) purchased a million-dollar dream home, and, you know, when our mortgage payments came due, we could depend on the kind government to bail us out. Instead, we're still renting, because, you know, we didn't want to buy a million-dollar dream home that we, you know, couldn't afford. Apparently other people did buy their dream homes and over-extended themselves. It's okay, though! Apparently, those folks are fine -- government's helping them out! Awe to the some. According to some yutz on All Things Considered today, the worst part of it is, these people (if not aided by the government) might lose their -- are you ready for it? -- MIDDLE CLASS STATUS! Quelle Horreur!


Here's a thought: How 'bout some financial aid to those of us who weren't idiots?

Ahem, sorry about that. It's just that the whole thing makes me want to scream. A lot.


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