Maybe, Baby

Don't want to jinx it, but it looks like I have myself a manager. Until I get the contracts, though, that's all I'll say for now.

Otherwise, getting a treatment together (God, do I hate treatments) for a contact at an animation company, and then mulling over another idea (or two or three) in case she passes, as is most likely (ever the optimist) but then asks me what else yer got?

Stone Cold

Today was not a very good day. I woke up in pain due to a kidney stone, and it went downhill from there. Have you ever had a kidney stone? It is PAINFUL. I would rather go through childbirth, at least you get a kid out of it.

Still I tried to work through the agony. I did a couple of pages on one script, got another script ready to go out, and then I got embroiled in a semi-flame war on a screenwriting site...in other words, I pissed the day away, and I mean that sincerely.

And then tonight, like a bolt out of the blue, I heard from the director of my Christmas movie. It looks like they finally have a distributor for a DVD/TV/cable deal, sold at Cannes. And it's to a big international company. You will know this company.

I am very happy.

But I could have done without the kidney stone. Really.

Happy Fourth of July

Another good week. Went back to the Christmas script, started the family comedy, and now hubby and I are brainstorming a very cute and clever family CGI feature. I pitched the idea to a couple of pals and they seemed to dig it, always a good sign.

Also, I had a very good phone confab with a manager who may be interested in repping me. Don't want to say too much about it, he's reading several of my scripts, so we shall see.

The kids are fine and doing their thing.

So yes, while it may change next week, or even tomorrow, today there is reason to celebrate in the McIlvaine household.

Monday Monday

I am tired tonight. Tired, but happy. Not from writing, though. From querying and sending out scripts. Today I did a big e-mail blitz and while not everyone responded with "yes", enough did to make it a good day in McIlvaine Land.

I would love to have a good manager or agent do this. Really. All this marketing crapola keeps me from doing what I love best: write. And wouldn't you know, in between all this madness, I came up with a script idea (thank you, John Fogarty) that I think has great possibilities, or as in speakese, "excellent franchise potential" and "cross multiple platforms."

In other words, make lots of moolah for me and my heirs. Now I just have to find the time, and energy, to write it.

RIP George Carlin

June Follies

I been really busy, folks. Did two interviews, writing, rewriting, reading scripts, querying, and all the other stuff that passes for life.

My interview with TJ Lynch is at www.pitchfest.com, look under Newsletters. Sometime next week my interview with Blake Snyder (Save the Cat) will be posted as well. Both super nice guys.

Other than that, still here, if anyone gives a shit.

Love sunflowers. Have done a lot of planting in my garden. No wonder my back hurts!

RIP Sydney Pollack

Sad, sad news.

Unforgiveable

I don't often get on my political soapbox, but recent events have forced me to.

Let me be blunt: initially, I supported Hillary Clinton in her Presidential quest. However, in this long and bitter campaign, she lost my vote a long time ago. Now, after her remarks regarding RFK and his awful death, it only reinforces my decision.

I have tried, for the life of me, to understand why she would say such a thing. I just don't. And her "non-apology" is even worse.

Don't get me started on RFK. I loved him. I will never forget the day he died. My beloved grandmother was inconsolable. She loved RFK and the Kennedy family just as much as I did.

For Hillary to even think such a thing, that's bad enough.

But to say it.

I wish she would resign as my Senator and just quietly go away. I love the Big Dog, he was a great President, and while the thought of him being the First Man is delicious, this recent "gaffe" is too, too much.

My mother said it best: Hillary has dug her own grave. Now let her lie in it.

That Magic Moment

Mother's Day seems an eternity. Between writing, querying, life, kids, and all that other crap, I barely know which end is up.

And then it all comes into focus today. What I'm doing, or trying to do. And who I'm doing it for.

No, not the last super delegate telling me who's they're going to vote for.

I have a great phone conversation with a producer. I wasn't PJ the Mommy, I was PJ the writer of that great Showtime movie. We connected. And for twenty minutes I was firing on all cylinders, pitching, ducking and weaving, giving it my best shot, and them giving it right back to me in a positive way.

And the best part of it, the kids were home. All three of them, a rare treat, with boyfriends in tow, a rowdy group, and they started cooking diner. I come out of the office and they can tell by the way I'm dancing that it was a good phone gab. No, not just good, it was fantastic. And even if nothing comes of it, for that time, my time, it felt wonderful. It felt normal. It felt like this is what it's supposed to be.

Just me...PJ.

Mother's Day

I was talking with a friend and yes, the subject of kids came up. I have a very strong maternal instinct. I love my kids, I would die for my kids, I would take a bullet for them in a heartbeat. There is nothing I would not do for them. And I think they pretty well know it.

So yeah, I guess that makes me a Mother. And proud of it!

More Musings From The Front Lines

As I market my latest spec, it came to me that I'm not just shilling a script. In a very real sense, I'm shilling myself. My voice, my words, my tone, my dreams, my creativity, my imagination, my soul, me, me, me.

It's a hard thing to accept that people may just not be interested in...me, me, me.
So why do I put myself through this agony time and time again? Am I sadist? Lord knows, I've been shit canned to the curb so many times that you'd think by now I'd be gun shy.

But no, I'm pimping myself like a ho in the hood. This is the part I hate. I really do. I don't relish this at all. Yet I remain ever optimistic that my knight in shining armor will come galloping up (or maybe drive up in his shiny foreign car).

I can't imagine doing anything else. I can't imagine not doing this. So I guess I'm stuck like a rat in a maze.

Hope springs eternal. Like kittens, puppies and fools.

More of The Man

How could you not love him? C'mon, I dare you! Look at that face, especially in the last photo. Those dancing eyes. Oh, what a tease! You know what he's thinking of. Hell, you know what I'm thinking of.

He makes me want to go on a two week bender...and I ain't talking about no lost weekend.

The Hills Have Eyes? Nah. Ted Levine has eyes. And balls. Cue piss and swagger music.

CHERRY PICKING

Well, I've really gone off the deep end. Sweet lil ole me has written a very naughty sex comedy involving virgins, eggs, Poison Ivy and ugly chicks.

My kids read it and were simply agog. First, that I had written it. Second, that I had written it, their Mommy. Third, that I didn't pussy foot around and went for the jugular. You can't have a sex comedy without the sex or the comedy.

My hubby read the first five pages and ran screaming into the night.

But you know what? My kids loved it! This was no BS---Adrienne and Stephanie really loved it. They loved the virgins. They loved that the parents are as screwed up as the teens. And everyone loved "Cousin Toofy", who really should be called Cousin Goofy. As Stephanie put it, every time he popped up, she knew he was going to be an ass.

My kids are used to me and my scripts, but this threw them for a loop. Hey, Soccer Moms can be dirty!

Same Old Same Old

I'm at the point in my new relationship where I get that feeling in my stomach, the one where I feel kinda sick and unsure.

Am I doing the right thing? Am I on the right track? Yes, it felt good at the beginning.

It was passion, lust and obsession rolled into one package.

And then, in the morning, once I wake up and stare at myself in the mirror, hair tousled, bags under my eyes, worn, haggard...I can't help but wonder what I'm doing to myself in the name of love.

You know what I'm talking about...the part in a new script, the mid-point, where I wonder what the hell I'm doing.

Most of the time I push my doubts aside and shove ahead, acting on blind faith. Most of the time, it works. But sometimes...it doesn't.

You'd think after all this time, it would get easier.

It doesn't.

This Is Getting To Be Insane

I did it again.

No, not that.

Here I am, steeped in my drama mode, thinking of very serious and weighty things...and a crazy little idea for a raunchy teen sex comedy popped into my head. I mean, this is REALLY funny...and so far everyone I've pitched the concept to gets it and predicts that on the title alone, it should sell.

But do I really want to write a rowdy sex romp? I mean, I guess I could ask my kids for help--I bet they could give me the lowdown on what passes for a "hook-up" these days...yet I don't want to start it only to fizzle out after the first act because I don't feel passionate about it.

Ah, what to do, what to do...

The Man

There I Go Again

I'm out taking my daily walk, cane (big wood stick) in hand, feeling like Gandalf, breathing in the fresh air, listening to the birds sing, and it happened again.

I came up with an idea for a script...which is getting to be a very bad habit.

I have more ideas than I know what to do with, and more scripts in different stages than I know what to do with, and this year I've been going full tilt boogie.

Anyway, the title HARDSCRABBLE popped into my head, then I got an image of a woman being abused by her husband. Of course, it didn't stop there. Within minutes I had filled in the back story, characters, plot and all the other good stuff.

Apart from enjoying the script format, I like it because I can do it quickly, versus a book which can take longer (the last book I attempted took me two and a half years to complete. It needed a rewrite, I got hooked on screenwriting, and I never went back to it).

Yes, eventually I'd like to get back to novels, but when? And for which project? This one? How will I know?

Damn, sometimes I hate being a writer.

What Have You Done Lately?

Since January 1st, I've conceived, written and completed:

BOBBY VALENTI, drama suspense-thriller

HEAVEN SENT, family fantasy/comedy

A MONK eppy (two parter, in fact)

Four different rewrites on JOSHUA'S CAR, family in crisis domestic drama

A rewrite on POLO, family friendly shaggy dog comedy

About a half-dozen pages on GINGERBREAD U, a Christmas comedy

Roughly twenty or so pages on THE PRINZE AND THE HOOD, a teen musical comedy

Blogs for Rouge Wave

Columns for MovieBytes

Notes for The Script Department

Sent out queries

In March I was knocked off my feet by the mother of all flu bugs so I kinda feel like a laggard. Ahem.

And it's only April. April!

So when I hear of a screenwriter who's been working on his opus for the past ten years, I wonder...what the fuck is wrong with me?

Works For Me

"A child was told to write a book report on the entire Bible. This is amazing
and brought tears to my eyes. I wonder how often we take for granted that
children understand what we are teaching??? Through the eyes of a child.

Children's Bible in a Nutshell


In the beginning, which occurred near the start, there was nothing but God,
darkness, and some gas. The Bible says, 'The Lord thy God is one, but I think
He must be a lot older than that. Anyway, God said, 'Give me a light!' and
someone did. Then God made the world. He split the Adam and made Eve. Adam
and Eve were naked, but they weren't embarrassed because mirrors hadn't been
invented yet. Adam and Eve disobeyed God by eating one bad apple, so they were
driven from the Garden of Eden. Not sure what they were driven in though,
because they didn't have cars. Adam and Eve had a son, Cain, who hated his
brother as long as he was Abel. Pretty soon all of the early people died off,
except for Methuselah, who lived to be like a million or something.

One of the next important people was Noah, who was a good guy, but one of his
kids was kind of a Ham. Noah built a large boat and put his family and some
animals on it. He asked some other people to join him, but they said they would
have to take a rain check.

After Noah came Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Jacob was more famous than his
brother, Esau, because Esau sold Jacob his birthmark in exchange for some pot
roast. Jacob had a son named Joseph who wore a really loud sports coat.

Another important Bible guy is Moses, whose real name was Charlton Heston.
Moses led the Israel Lights out of Egypt and away from the evil Pharaoh after
God sent ten plagues on Pharaoh's people. These plagues included frogs, mice,
lice, bowels, and no cable. God fed the Israel Lights every day with manicotti.

Then he gave them His Top Ten Commandments. These include don't lie, cheat,
smoke, dance, or co vet your neighbor's stuff. Oh, yeah, I just thought of one
more: Humor thy father and thy mother.

One of Moses' best helpers was Joshua who was the first Bible guy to use
spies. Joshua fought the battle of Geritol and the fence fell over on the town.

After Joshua came David. He got to be king by killing a giant with a slingshot.
He had a son named Solomon who had about 300 wives and 500 porcupines. My
teacher says he was wise, but that doesn't sound very wise to me.

After Solomon there were a bunch of major league prophets. One of these was
Jonah, who was swallowed by a big whale and then barfed upon the shore. There
were also some minor league prophets, but I guess we don't have to worry about
them.

After the Old Testament came the New Testament. Jesus is the star of the New
Testament. He was born in Bethlehem in a barn. (I wish I had been born in a
barn, t oo, because my mom is always saying to me, 'Close the door! Were you
born in a barn?' It would be nice to say, 'As a matter of fact, I was.')

During His life, Jesus had many arguments with sinners like the Pharisees and
the Republicans. Jesus also had twelve opossums. The worst one was Judas
Asparagus. Judas was so evil that they named a terrible vegetable after him.

Jesus was a great man. He healed many leopards and even preached to some
Germans on the Mount. But the Republicans and all those guys put Jesus on trial
before Pontius the Pilot. Pilot didn't stick up for Jesus. He just washed his
hands instead.

Any way's, Jesus died for our sins, then came back to life again. He went up
to Heaven but will be back at the end of the Aluminum. His return is foretold
in the book of Revolution."

I Love New York (And Kristen)

God, another day, another scandal.

Actually, I'm sad that our beloved Gov had to resign without revealing all the sordid details of his trysts. The hell with the bank account transfers, we just want to know what he got for $5500 an hour. My God, was her vava made of gold? I mean, come on, one pussy is just as good as the next, non? Talk about blowing your wad!

$80K to bang high class whores? Guess Spitzer couldn't handle the pressure hooker. And it had to be a married, moralizing, crusading Democrat! Maybe he and Larry Craig should form a club for politicos who had to resign in shame and disgrace. Oh, silly me, Craig didn't resign!

No doubt the next stop for Spitz on his "atonement" tour will be a reality show on MTV. Maybe "The Governor Who Couldn't Shoot Straight"?

Spray The Lysol

Dead...Woman...Walking

Am slowly coming back to life after being felled by the mother of all flu's. I was fine over the weekend, but then my better half started hacking early Sunday morning. By Sunday afternoon he had the shakes and crashed after drinking up most of the Nyquil. I escaped to another bedroom, but not soon enough.

Monday I felt a tad queasy but still okay. Tuesday started off okay and then it went downhill. My fever spiked at 102.6 and I began babbling about my life insurance policy.

Reminder to myself when I have a high fever and am delirious: never watch "Spellbound". In fact, never watch it again.

Now the fever is gone, but this grippe has settled in my chest and I sound like Maude.

In other words....dead...woman...walking.

Idle Hands of March

The big snowstorm on Friday was a bust, still haven't heard back from any producers, and I'm still looking for inspiration on a particular project.

On another note, speaking of notes, I'm delighted to say that I'm now affiliated with www.thescriptdepartment.com

So it goes without saying, if you happen to be in the market for professional script anaylsis, check out Julie Gray and the great people at SD. My e-mail addy there is
pj@thescriptdepartment.com


Now I'm gonna put on some bagpipe music, stoke up the fire, and dream.

The Neck Belly Reels - Sharon Shannon

Bliss on earth.

Sharon Shannon

Another amazing musician.

Cape Breton Fiddle : Natalie MacMaster iii

More of the Queen

Natalie MacMaster

The Queen of Fiddles

Fiddle De Dee

My family knows of my undying love for Cape Breton fiddle music. I pretty much have all the Natalie MacMaster albums, and this week I stumbled quite by accident upon a great site called

www.capebretonlive.com

It's got albums and live performances which I found, also by accident, that automatically downloaded onto my computer. Three live shows down, another 45 or so to go. I am in fiddle Heaven.

I have no idea why I love this music so much. I used to play the violin in elementary and high school. I couldn't read a lick of music, I played by ear. I loved it, loved the performances, loved having to dress up. But we played stuff like Beethoven, not earthy, down and dirty melodies that you'd shake your butt to.

When I have my headphones, the family knows to leave me alone. One day I hope to visit Cape Breton and experience it in person, but until then, this will have to do.

Double Pffttt

Well, that didn't long.

I just found out that the TV show I had written a sample episode for doesn't accept outside script submissions.

Let that be a lesson to you, boys and girls.

Ask first.

Write later.

C'est la vie.

It's like a splinter, it'll hurt for a little while, but it'll go away.

Eventually.

Busier Than A Four Armed Whore

I started out with the best of intentions.

Was working on the contemporary drama, then I got sidetracked---again---by the teen musical comedy, which in turn got sidetracked by the MONK spec---don't ask---which in turn is threatening to be waylaid by other writing things---oh, and I still have the Moviebytes column to pen...

Sometimes it doesn't pay to type or get up in the morning...

I WOULD HAVE THIS MAN'S BABY IN A HEARTBEAT

HARLAN ELLISON ON THE WRITERS STRIKE SETTLEMENT

YOU HAVE MY PERMISSION TO RE-POST THIS ANYWHERE:

Creds: got here in 1962, written for just about everybody, won the Writers Guild Award four times for solo work, sat on the WGAw Board twice, worked on negotiating committees, and was out on the picket lines with my NICK COUNTER SLEEPS WITH THE FISHE$$$ sign. You may have heard my name. I am a Union guy, I am a Guild guy, I am loyal. I fuckin’ LOVE the Guild.

And I voted NO on accepting this deal.

My reasons are good, and they are plentiful; Patric Verrone will be saddened by what I am about to say; long-time friends will shake their heads; but this I say without equivocation…

THEY BEAT US LIKE A YELLOW DOG. IT IS A SHIT DEAL. We finally got a timorous generation that has never had to strike, to get their asses out there, and we had to put up with the usual cowardly spineless babbling horse’s asses who kept mumbling “lessgo bac’ta work” over and over, as if it would make them one iota a better writer. But after months on the line, and them finally bouncing that pus-sucking dipthong Nick Counter, we rushed headlong into a shabby, scabrous, underfed shovelfulla shit clutched to the affections of toss-in-the-towel summer soldiers trembling before the Awe of the Alliance.

My Guild did what it did in 1988. It trembled and sold us out. It gave away the EXACT co-terminus expiration date with SAG for some bullshit short-line substitute; it got us no more control of our words; it sneak-abandoned the animator and reality beanfield hands before anyone even forced it on them; it made nice so no one would think we were meanies; it let the Alliance play us like the village idiot. The WGAw folded like a Texaco Road Map from back in the day.

And I am ashamed of this Guild, as I was when Shavelson was the prexy, and we wasted our efforts and lost out on technology that we had to strike for THIS time. 17 days of streaming tv!!!????? Geezus, you bleating wimps, why not just turn over your old granny for gang-rape?

You deserve all the opprobrium you get. While this nutty festschrift of demented pleasure at being allowed to go back to work in the rice paddy is filling your cowardly hearts with joy and relief that the grips and the staff at the Ivy and street sweepers won’t be saying nasty shit behind your back, remember this:

You are their bitches. They outslugged you, outthought you, outmaneuvered you; and in the end you ripped off your pants, painted yer asses blue, and said yes sir, may I have another.

Please excuse my temerity. I’m just a sad old man who has fallen among Quislings, Turncoats, Hacks and Cowards.

I must go now to whoops. My gorge has become buoyant.

Respectfully, Yr. Pal, Harlan Ellison

Toute Sweet

I just got a nice pass from a producer on my new spec. He said that while it was "very sweet", it just wasn't for them and wished me all the best of luck.

I know what you're thinking. A kind brush off, maybe even a backhanded not so nice brush off.

Very sweet.

Nudge, nudge. Look at her. She's sweet, poor thing.

My cat Kisses is very sweet...until she coughs up a hair ball.

Cotton candy is very sweet...until you eat too much of it.

Falling snow is very sweet...but's a hellish mess to drive in.

You get the picture.

Problem is, I am sweet. I can't help it.

I write sweet too. Can't help that either.

I have never done anything bad in my life. Never took drugs (took pot once, doesn't count).

Never drank to excess. Or much at all.

Haven't whored around. Haven't whored, period.

Never went around without any underwear. Okay, once, in kindergarten.

I have no dark, deep secrets.

Okay, so not only am I sweet, but I'm dull, dull, dull.

But is that such a bad thing?

Not the dull part. The sweet part.

I can be dirty. Really. I burp. I break wind. Doesn't everyone?

So I'm very sweet. Kill me. Put me out of my misery

But let me cut one first.

And yes, I know the strike is over. So why do I feel so bad?

TOP TEN THINGS I WANT TO SEE IN 2008

I want Bill Clinton back in the White House. The idea of him being "The First Husband" is simply too delicious to contemplate.

I want to lose 80lbs without really trying. All right, maybe 50. Less is more. Without trying. NO MORE COOKIES!!!

I'd like to see Britney get treated by House. He'd have her cured in 45 minutes or less, give a commercial break or two.

I would love it if Dave Letterman dropped his unfunny routines about the weather in New York. Enough, Dave! We know it's cold!

I want the WGA to get the fair deal they deserve. No, not just a fair deal---a great deal.

I want more of Ted Levine on MONK. The OCD Guy is getting on my last nerve (as I run to wash my hands for the 68576 time today).

I want world peace, a cure for the common cold, and gas under a dollar. Oil too.

I want a bank error in my favor. A big bank error. Win Mega Millions?

I want another baby.

I want a script to sell. Lots of scripts. All my scripts. Okay, I'd settle for just one.

I'd like one of my kids to have a baby. Any baby. Kidnap a baby. Buy a baby doll?

I want a pair of French Bulldogs. Max and Maxine. And they can have babies.

And just once, I'd like those silly horoscope readings to come true.

No Place Like Home

So while I wait for feedback on my crazy little script that tore through me like a tornado, I return to my contemporary drama of a family in crisis, a real downer. I know I have to tackle it sooner or later, so it might as well be...tomorrow.

Now don't get me wrong. I love the story. I love the characters. It's personal. Maybe too personal. I've been carrying it around in my head for years: bad things happen to good people. And since I love these people, doing bad things to them is hard. I tell myself it's not a comedy, it's drama. Ya can't have a drama without...the drama. The tears. The implosions. The "fuck you" moment when it all goes to hell.

The only thing that keeps me going on it is that it has a happy ending. Somewhat. Really.

Heath Ledger RIP
Ten Things We Love About You
Great Daddy
Cool Actor
And my Stephanie was crushing on you
Sleep with the Angels

Does Anybody Know What Time It Is?

Boy, have we got off to a banging New Year!

Eddie Murphy got "spiritually married", now after two weeks, stick a fork in it. that's one way to save on lawyer fees.

Jamie Lynn is knocked up at sixteen and depending on which rag you read, she's on the verge of a miscarriage, on the way to the hospital, is unsure as to who the Baby Daddy is, or is being dumped by the Baby Daddy who already supposedly got another girl pregnant...and with a war going on, the economy in the tank, this inspires a national debate on birth control...NOT!

Big sis sis Brit Brit (ie Unfitney) outdoes lil sis sis by throwing a temper tantrum, getting locked up in the mental ward, only to wind up in Mexico with her married photographer BF and then refuse to appear at the courthouse to fight for custody of her babies yet has all the time in the world to stop in at gas stations, retail stores and pharmacies for photo opps in ragged fishnet stockings and no underwear.

Meanwhile, Lindsey traipses off to Italy to receive a dubious "career
achievement award" but the only achievement she apppears to have done while abroad was to fall off the wagon and hop, skimp and jump from one bed to another (with all the salacious details peddled by these nefarious Lotharios) to the tabloids for a lucrative lira.

Paris, after assuring the world she was going to live on a higher plane since her stint in the hokey, makes endless appearances in clubs where she told one lucky audience that she'd like to "fuck" them all. Makes you long for the days when celebs would do their jail time quietly and without fanfare--like Kiefer Sutherland is doing right now.

And Long Island natives Joey B and Amy F release competing sex tapes but swear they're not making any money off them. The only thing better would be a sex tape of Joey B and Amy F doing the nasty. Since when did getting yourself caught in the act suddenly become so profitable and respectable? I want my own sex tape!

And it's only January???

HEAVEN SENT

All Shelley wanted for her thirteenth birthday was to get her belly button pierced. Instead, she got wings. If there is a God, He is alive and well in Heaven, Vermont. Sometimes, a girl has to fly.

DoYou Know Where Your Mutt Is?

THE TALE OF THE FREE LOVESEAT OR HOW I GOT RIPPED OFF, MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS

On the first day Christmas, I got ripped off by Levitz Furniture.

Let me explain. Back in September, I bought a new sofa and love seat combo. After searching high and low, I found an incredible deal at the aforementioned furniture store. Buy the sofa get the love seat free!!! I also paid for a ten year warranty covering the fabric (with three cats,I figured, what the hey). At that rate, the warranty would probably outlive the stupid furniture. I even made it simple for the store. I paid cash.

Ha! I'm such a good customer.

However, Daughter #2 (more to the point, Big Tim Bronco, her fiance) warned me against it. Vehemently. He had his own miserable experience with Levitz. But did I listen?

The sofa was delivered, no problems. Due to the sale, so I was told, the love seat was on back order, but I'd get it around Thanksgiving. Uhm, okay.

Shortly thereafter, it was announced in the local paper that Levitz was filing Chapter 11. I was concerned, but not so much. After all, I had paid for my stuff and I had a delivery date. I mean, they wouldn't stiff people who had already paid, right?

Ahem.

When I called to confirm the delivery date, I was suddenly told that due to a "production problem" in the warehouse, the love seat would now be delivered on December 6th. The friendly and helpful customer service rep assured me that I would get my love seat on that day, and also insisted that their filing Chapter 11 had no bearing on my order.

Like a fool, I kept the faith, even after I learned that not only was Levitz filing Chapter 11, they were also shutting their doors forever due to the trickle down effects of the sub prime mortgage mess. If people can't afford their homes, they sure as hell aren't buying new furniture.

Of course you know what happened. I spend all day waiting for my love seat that never arrives (and a delivery that Levitz, in their infinite wisdom, called to confirm the week before).

Royally pissed, I call the 800 number. The helpful and friendly rep is now replaced by a recording.

In desperation, I call the store where I bought the stuff. The staff is about as friendly as a rabid pit bull. When I complain to the store manager, the asshole blows me off by whining that everyone is in a lousy mood because they are all losing their jobs and infers that the day I get my love seat will be a cold day in Tahiti.

Adding insult to my injury, the very next day Levitz runs a full page ad in the local rag touting their tremendous "Going Out Of Business Sale" ! I fume at the absurdity. I can't get my free fucking love seat but they are still trolling for customers.

After days of dialing, I finally get ahold of a real live person in customer disservice, fat lot of good that did me. Now the story is that they are still getting merchandise, but they don't know if they will be able to fill my order and won't know for a couple of days, maybe.

But they are not able to fulfill my order because they are in Chapter 11.

Oh no. They can't fill my order because they are going out of business.

So I ask the harried and downtrodden customer disservice rep what is my recourse if they can't deliver my free love seat for which I have already paid for in cash (including delivery and that goddamn worthless warranty) she says to me, no kidding....

That I have to file a claim in Bankruptcy Court along with all the other creditors (i.e. suckers).

On the second day of Christmas I lost my mind.

CATASTROPHE

So the Psycho Cat sauntered up me after she finished sipping her milk and wanted to know what was up with the WGA strike. (Although we are not WGA members, it is due to the WGA that I get measly but very appreciated foreign residual checks for MY HORRIBLE YEAR).

Psycho Cat: So how can I become a scat? I can write as good as any monkey. And I'm here in the good ole US of A. Then movie moguls don't have to go to England to get mongrel scats.

Me: What the hell did Granny put in your milk?

Psycho Cat: You know what I'm talking about, you asshole. Scats!

Me: Oh....you mean scabs. Trust me, you don't want to be a scab.

Psycho Cat: Why not?

Me: Because you can never join the WGA and get health benefits and all the other

nice perks if you do. Besides, it's not nice.

Psycho Cat: What do I care about health benefits? You took me to a cheap vet when I had worms. And who said I was nice? I'm the psycho cat. All I'm asking for is a chance. I can write better crap than CAVEMEN.

Me: So can I.

Psycho Cat: But you're not a cat. Hey, How about a remake of MICE AND MEN?

Change the men to cats, get Angelina and Clooney...I smell bling!

Me: I smell kitty litter.

SOLIDARITY

I'm not in the WGA, but I support the strike. I'd sooner cut off my right arm than be a scab.


www.theartfulwriter.com
www.unitedhollywood.com

Yeah I Know

Time slips away when you're having fun.

It's been a long, strange summer. Just starting to catch my breath and assimilate, meditate, hesitate and procrastinate.

Hopefully things will settle down soon and I can get back to doing what I love best.

Until then...Go, Red Sox, Go!

Independence Day

What, no aliens?

Alive and chugging away like the little engine that could. And waiting and writing and waiting and writing, not necessarily in that order.

Memorial Day

Cloudy. Blech. But tomorrow is supposed to be gorgeous.

I am very confused as to this new Blogger-Google thingie. It appears that I have two separate accounts, and I can never remember the e-mail/passwords to either of them. They couldn't have left well enough alone.

Otherwise, I've had a full plate this month: still working on my father's estate, Heather's graduation, Adrienne's strep throat, Stephanie's home for the summer, trusty little Neon finally died after years of loving abuse and was carted off to the junk yard, various other hassles and oh---still managed to work, write, work, write, sleep, bake, in no particular order.

Not a bad month. Now I just need to shake some more trees in June and hopefully resolve some long standing issues.

I Be A Bad Girl

I know, I know. Times flies and all that crapola.

I've been busy. Really. Writing, life, all that good stuff.

Otherwise, I'm still here, plugging away. Keeping up appearances.

Larry finally has the baby. I'm delighted.

Paris is going to jail. I'm devastated. No more TMZ updates?

Still not watching AMERICAN IDOL.

Waiting for HELL'S KITCHEN.

Hated TOP DESIGN.

Wondering why they didn't get Farrah for SHEAR GENIUS. What, she was too expensive?

No more BLOW OUT?

When is PROJECT RUNWAY coming back?

Fuck JERICHO.

Media Overload

I'm loathe to admit it, but yes, Anna Nicole got to me. How could it not? It had everything and then some: sex, money, mystery, drugs, and unending court battles. I haven't seen Greta have so much fun since the Natalie Holloway days.

Larry King (looking very cadaverous) played host to a vast array of characters and charlatans, but by the time of Anna's delayed burial, even Larry looked tired of the whole sordid affair.

Where was Maury when you needed him? He would've settled the paternity circus in one half hour show.

Now I am in Anna Nicole withdrawal, at least until the next court date.

We have a war going on and all the media can do is fall over itself to cover the funeral of a drug addicted, C-celebrity (and this doesn't even take into account Britney's woes).

Clearly, I've made a mess of my life. I never abused my kids. Hell, they even profess to like me. I'm not high on crack. One Bud Light puts me under the table. I'm still married to my first and only husband. Worse still, we sleep together.

I've never done anything in my life, not one single thing, that could even be remotely considered scandalous.

I'm a complete, abject failure.

Oscar Post Mortem

Boring and bloated. There, I said in three words what took almost four hours. I hate to admit it, but I was praying that the telecast would've been interrupted by something fantastic like Anna Nicole rising from the dead, just to break the monotony.

Ellen was "too" nice. Yeah, she had two nice bits with Marty and Clint, but otherwise, she was as bland as tapioca pudding.

What the fuck is up with Jack Nicholson? Is he auditioning for the title role of a biopic on Marlon Brando? He was almost unrecognizable, save for the sunglasses.

Jennifer Hudson's stylist (or whoever made her wear that silly metallic bolero) should be boiled in oil.

Anne Hathaway and Meryl Streep didn't take their Prada roles to heart, apparently. Meryl, it's okay to be size 14, however, you don't have to dress as if you were size 16.

How on earth did Cameron Diaz go to the bathroom in that gown? Maybe she didn't. Maybe she got her hands on some of those astronaut nappies.

Will somebody please take a microphone away from Ryan Seacrest? The only good thing was that Billy Bush was nowhere in sight.

Now onto the good stuff...

As for the awards itself, I'm of two minds. It was great and well deserved that Marty got his Oscar, but one gets the feeling that this year, he could have been nominated for directing traffic and he still would've gotten it. Plus, he was nominated for a film that was an adaptation of a Japanese film...does that carry the same weight as an original like RAGING BULL or GANGS OF NEW YORK? I'm not sure. And wasn't it a huge tip off on who was going to win with Spielberg, Lucas and Coppola presenting the award?

Hindsight has shown that often, the Academy bestows the little golden man for reasons other than who was the "best" that year. How else to explain AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS and THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH winning for Best Picture? Hell, Elizabeth Taylor admitted that her Oscar for BUTTERFIELD 8 was undeserved. She hated the role and did everything she could to get out of it, reportedly. But during the Oscar balloting she was gravely ill with pneumonia and nearly died.

I predicted pretty much all the major winners. Just before they announced Best Supporting Actor, I told my hubby that it was Eddie Murphy's to lose, and sure enough, he did. What a kick in the teeth. In retrospective, following his plum role in DREAM GIRLS with NORBIT now seems like a really dumb move.

As for Helen Mirren and Forest Whittaker, they basically won for impersonation. Whittaker seems to have mainly won for being a truly nice guy who turned into a beast on camera. Not taking anything from Whittaker, a marvelous actor, but you should see my husband when he discovers that raccoons have gotten into the trash or when somebody cuts him off in the Stop & Shop parking lot.

What was up with nominating BORAT for Best Adapted Screenplay? Was that some kind of inside joke?

Yay for President Al Gore!

Really, they should hand out all the special effect awards on a separate night. Just give the people what they want: the red carpet and Brad Pitt.

Soap Opera Overload

Anna Nicole Smith and Britney Spears. A match made in Celebrity Heaven. A paparazzi dream come true.

Anna Nicole was a train wreck in progress. While her death was shocking, given her age, it wasn't surprising, given her lifestyle. She wanted to be famous, well, she's more famous now in death than she was in life, the legal saga goes on, and we still don't know who fathered little Dannilynn. Is it Howard? Larry? The Prince? Elvis?

What was this cab driver turned Florida jurist auditioning for, his own half-hour sitcom on Spike TV? I thought it was a court proceeding, not a group therapy hug.

Then you have Britney's excruciatingly public breakdown. At first glance, this seemed to come out of blue, but there were signs all along. Her breakup with Justin, the sudden hookup with Kevin, getting pregnant back to back, then the failed marriage, those sans underwear photos, the constant partying with her new BFF. With two babies under two years of age, where does she get the energy? Maybe I shouldn't ask.

Beyonce vs. Jennifer H.

Am I the only one in the western world who thinks that Beyonce agreeing to appear as the cover model of this year's Sports Illustrated "swimsuit" issue is nothing more than a bitchslap to Jennifer Hudson?

Reality check: Beyonce is a star. Jennifer H was dumped from American Idol too soon. Beyonce is thin. Jennifer H is curvaceous and well-endowed.

DREAMGIRLS was supposed to be Beyonce's movie, but it's not, thanks to Jennifer stealing it from under her nose (what's next, Jay Z?).

Jennifer is getting all the accolades and the awards that by all rights should have gone to Beyonce. It's understandable that Beyonce might be jealous and resentful. Still, can't Beyonce's advisors think of a better way for their charge to upstage Jennifer than exposing Beyonce's Golden Globes?

Girlfriends, c'mon, why can't we all get along? Retract those claws. Meow! Meow!

I'M BAAACKKKKK!!!!!!

C'mon, you didn't think you'd get rid of me that easily?

After a couple of tumultuous months, I've regrouped, taken a deep breath, loaded up on high potency vitamins, flushed my meds down the toilet and decided that if not now, then when?

A new year brings new beginnings, new hopes, new dreams and desires. 2006 was an awful year and I'm more than ready to kick it to the dustbin of history. I figure, 2007 can't be any worse (well, yes, it can, but I'm going to remain optimistic). I feel like I've jumped out of an airplane without a parachute. It's exhilarating yet scary at the same time.

Okay, so I'm never going to win an Oscar. I'll never meet George Lucas. And maybe, just maybe, I'm a third rate writer who had her chance and blew it.

Then again...maybe not. Karma, if I ever needed you, it's now.

PROJECT WRONGWAY

That's it. I've had it. I invested three years into this show. No more, not after last night's nonsensical finale.

I was under the impression that the purpose of this show was to find the "next great fashion designer"...not an already is who has celebrity clients like Gwen Stefani and the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Look, Jeffrey may be a great guy, a nice father, a former drug user, and he's good (I can't forget the milkmaid outfit) at what he does: punk star/rock and roll chic. But this is not new. It's not even fashion forward. It's fashion rewind---to the 1980's.

Note to Michael Kors: having a tat on your neck does not make you the next Martha Stewart.

There wasn't one outfit in Jeffrey's collection that I could wear. There wasn't one outfit in his collection that I would want to wear. And that long dress was hideous.

I'm also sick and tired of being manipulated by BRAVO with their judicious editit. Based on the judges comments, I thought for sure Laura and Ulie would be the final two.

Does Nina think she's oh so smart with her snarky remarks?

Granted, the show is a hit, but when it comes to launching a fashion career and/or a brand name, the show is a dud. Jay had health problems. Chloe seems to be quite content to remain in Texas. And now we have Jeffrey...I hear crickets chirping. Can anyone see him as the head of a fashion house?

I don't think so.

I hope Laura and Ulie go on to faboo careers and blow Jeffrey out of the water.

Heidi, you're out!!!!

Screenwriting Rules

Sorry that I've been so remiss in blogging. I've had my hands full since August: sending daughter off to college, life, various catastrophes, and juggling several projects. I feel like I'm coming up for air (or I'm a Phoenix rising from the ashes). Take your pick.

I'm still doing the monthly column at www.moviebytes.com, and I just sent them my newest one, "Witless". My husband says its the best one I've done yet, but what does he know.

On another note, I'd like to digress and ruminate a bit on the "screenwriting rules". You know, all the things you're not supposed to do---but I've seen done on sold, produced scripts.

For example, you're not supposed to write "unfilmmable bits". Well, in MY BEST FRIEND'S WEDDING, Ron Bass gets away with those cutting and witty asides that can't be filmed. (Yeah, but he's Ron Bass).

I've been told that you shouldn't have action paragraphs more than three lines. However, on the draft I read of WHAT LIES BENEATH, the action paragraphs are much longer.

So what does this all mean, in the end?

Nothing.

Rules are meant to be broken. And who thought up these crazy rules in the first place?

Do whatever you have to do to tell your story your way.

Now I'm not talking about weird formatting and the like, because there is a standard format (and with good reason). Typos and grammatical errors will just peg you for an amateur who doesn't know how to edit.

If you have a great idea with great writing, no one will notice or care if you broke or rewrote the rules.

Ask Ron Bass.

Support a Fellow Artist

My good buddy Liz, a director/writer, has a website up devoted to her new movie

www.furythemovie.com

HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN LYNCHED (great tagline).

To help her out in costs, Liz is asking for donations (starting at $15) in exchange for a screen credit. I dedicated mine to my beloved brother Mike.

So...not only are you helping out a fellow artist, but it makes you feel all warm and squishy inside. And the movie looks pretty good, too!

www.furythemovie.com

Post Joe-Momentum Thoughts

Yeah, yeah, Keith was booted off PROJECT RUNWAY last week for having illegal "pattern books". Doesn't matter that he never used them, and I'm frankly surprised at the number of people at the Runway board who think such shenanigans are okay. However, I still haven't picked a favorite yet, since Malan (sniff, sniff) was thrown overboard.

Let me digress a bit and get on my political soapbox. I've been following the Lamont-Lieberman primary battle through DailyKos, Talking Points Memo and other blogs. Now, on the morning after, we're getting the crazy MSM spin that Lamont's unexpected win bodes ill for Democrats in the fall.

HUH? I mean, what weed are they chewing?

Let's get this straight.

For many reasons too numerous to list, Lieberman (at least since 2004) has been a faux Democrat. And now Democrats are being taken to task for voting him out?

Democrats are supposed to OPPOSE the Republicans, not suck up to them and support them in ill advised ventures.

Democrats in the Nutmeg State perceived that Lieberman was a Republican in sheep's clothing. He was booted out. Democracy at its finest, blah blah blah.

But wait...instead of bowing out gracefully and supporting Lamont in the name of party unity, Lieberman is blathering about running as an "independent Democrat". And Republicans are cheering him on (no big shock there).

It's the Repubs who have sucked up to Bush that should be quaking in their boots, not the other way around. If Bush was the "kiss of death" to Lieberman, what does that foretell for his Republican counterparts? They should, thank you David Crosby, be "scared shitless".

Don't let the MSM spin fool you.

And at the end of the day, I don't think Lieberman will run as an independent Democrat. He might switch parties and run as a Republican...

Where's Heidi Klum when you need her?

Musings on a Saturday Afternoon After a Heat Storm

All this week we've had record breaking temps, not that today is that much cooler. Still in the low 90's, but tomorrow is supposed to be better, in the 80's and less humid.

I want to congratulate my pal Scott the Reader for advancing in Nicholls. Good going, Scott!

A big shout out as well to Mary B, who while not advancing, got the coveted
"10%" comment from Greg Beal. Let me tell you, the one and only year I entered Nicholls, as it turned out, I was very happy to get that Beal comment. It kept my hopes and dreams alive a long time.

A huge hooray to Lynne and Robin, for making it through the summer with their brains intact (relatively speaking) after reading for Nicholls and Final Draft Big Break. I can understand them being burnt out after reading 400 plus scripts.

Which leads me to a discussion we had last night at our weekly screenwriting chat. (If you'd like an invite, e-mail orbie@aol.com).

To make a long story short, I related about how I had tried to help another screenwriter with a logline she posted at one of the writing sites. I thought it was a great concept. Still do.

The problem was, as I saw it, was that her concept promised something that her story (or how she chose to write it) failed to deliver.

Let me give you an example. I once pitched BORN AGAIN, a comedy about two haplass angels who screw up taking a woman's soul to Heaven, to a writer/producer. Now in his mind, my logline conjured up images of a zany comedy about the woman's soul bouncing from one body to another.

Now that's not bad, really.

But it wasn't my script. Far from it. Pffft.

My point is...when you pitch a script, you might envision it is a comedy, but to someone else, it might be a drama. Make sure the logline and the story/genre fits.

If it's a comedy, then make it a belly buster.

If it's a drama, have them reaching for a box of tissues.

THE BIG IDEA

I hope you'll check out my monthly column at MovieBytes. I'm having a lot of fun with it.

Otherwise, writing wise, it's been a good month. I came up with my own big idea and basically have been mulling it over until I actually sit down and begin writing it. I see the characters, hear their voices, and scenes are unfolding in my head. I asked some pro reader pals if they've ever read a script with a similar concept, and so far the answer has been no. Now that doesn't mean that someone, somewhere isn't writing it...but I can't worry about that.

It's also the summer of Reality TV. Love HELL'S KITCHEN, SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE and PROJECT RUNWAY. ROCK STAR SUPERNOVA leaves me cold.

Updates

Sorry I've been so remiss in positing, but I've been super busy with the family, rewrites, the usual nonsense.

I understand A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS is going to have an "official" premiere at a film festival here on Long Island, the point of which I am not too sure...I have been told that it's to get "audience feedback" but have also been advised that from the feedback they've already received, it looks like it's going straight to TV or cable (I could have told them that months ago). Unlike MY HORRIBLE YEAR, I have no emotional or sentimental attachment to this one, as I greatly suspect the finished product will bear little resemblance to my original draft. C'est la vie.

Right now, instead of diving into a new project, I'm going back and taking a second whack at other scripts which are finished (but need more work) and/or ones that I left at various stages. Capricorns are not supposed to start new projects until after July 28, so I am trying very very hard to heed, though it is difficult, as I dream up new ideas all the time.

But it's great to go back to a script that I worked on months before and realize that hey, it wasn't a pile of crapola after all!!


UPDATE: The premiere came and went. I was told the movie was choppy and rushed, and they are now planning to sell to cable. No big surprise there.

CLASS OF 2006

CONGRATUALTIONS STEPHANIE CHARLOTTE MCILVAINE
LONGWOOD HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATE OF 2006
TOP TEN PERCENT OF HER CLASS

LOVE AND BEST WISHES FROM YOUR FAMILY, JIMBOPARTY AND THE CATOOS

I Never Knew My Marriage Was Under Attack

Boy, I must be living under a rock. My hubby and I had no idea that our marriage was under attack. As I write this, a band of right wing nutjobs brandishing axes and broomsticks are outside our front door, demanding to be let into our bedroom.

What did we do wrong? So far as I can tell, our only crime was in believing that people have the right to live the way they want, free of big government (aka Federal Marriage Amendment) barging into their bed.

I mean, I can't remember the last time a gay couple thrashed me and Bill for being "straight". As for our kids, we wouldn't care if they were straight, gay or polka dot as long as they were happy.

Actually, I think Bush has done the gay marriage movement a great service. Getting his "seal of approval" on the amendment means you can put a fork in it.

Nine severed heads were found in Iraq today, and all Bush can do is yelp about gay marriage. No wonder Mary Cheney didn't join him in the Rose Garden. A skunk by any other name still smells the same.

Sorry for being so remiss in updating my blog. Stuff happens. Shit happens. Life goes on.

I've had a full plate lately, what with rewrites, new specs, and all the other usual nonsense that goes on, on a daily basis. My youngest daughter is graduating in June so we've been engaged in a systematic revamping of the house, yard and garden. What this basically means is that when it's crummy outside, I stay in and write. When it's beautiful out, I'm seeding, planting, cleaning the pool, etc. We just got the new BBQ together today and barely finished vacuuming the pool before the rain pelted us.

Other than the mundane, I'm just doing my thing. Started a spec called SENIOR PRANK which Stephanie is going to help me with. Actually, she gave me the inspiration in the first place.

Had a great confab with my co-writer on our SNOWBLIND spec. The script is about 90% there. We both agreed that we're at the point where we want to have done with it and get it out. She's a contest and prodco reader, so I feel very confident in her opinion that our work is solid (in comparison to what she reads).

I may have some potentially good (and lucrative) news to report soon regarding one of my "pet projects"....I've been in this place before, so I haven't popped the champagne quite yet. :)

Don't Cha

Don't cha hate it when you're knee deep in rewriting a script and BOOM, another great idea out of the blue hits you. Either you put that idea aside (jotting down notes so you don't forget it) to work on later or you put the rewrite aside and plunge into treacherous waters. God, I hate when that happens! Of course, this is the situation I find myself in, and not for the first time either.

Looks like they're playing musical chairs with the trailer at
www.amerrylittlechristmasthemovie.com

All I know that in the original script, I wrote several "trailer" moments and so far, none of them have been any of the trailers. I wonder if they were even filmed. Sigh.

Am very upset with BRAVO right now. No way should Steven have been canned on TOP CHEF. IMO, the one who should have gotten the boot was Harold for his flavorless salmon and for suggesting using box cake mix. What is this, TOP DUNCAN HINES? Lianne showed what a poor leader she was for going along with it and for allowing substandard food to leave the kitchen. You know damn well what Gordon Ramsay of HELL'S KITCHEN would have done. He would have tossed the food out and closed the kitchen down. The only one who didn't go along with the box cake nonsense was, you guessed it, Steven. Oh, never mind. Mark my words, Steven will go on to an illustrious career while Tiffani slings slop at IHOP. What does BRAVO know?

And why is BLOW OUT so short this season? Already they're touting the season finale! Seems like the show only filmed a handful of episodes. Good thing I have AMERICAN INVENTOR and DEAL OR NO DEAL to fall back on.

Happy Feaster

Because that's all I've been doing, cooking, baking and feasting. Had a full house for the holiday. We basically had three Easter dinners over the course of the weekend: turkey, ham and leg of lamb. Tomorrow, leftovers!

There's a trailer for the CHRISTMAS movie on www.amerrylittlechristmasthemovie.com
Watch it and tell me what you think. I got an earful from my kids.

After an impasse, it looks like my co-writer and I on the AMAZON script are back on track. It took some requests from producers to give us the kick in the pants we needed to solve the dilemma.

Meanwhile, I'm waiting on another co-writer on our SNOWBLIND script, but not to worry, while I wait I've been working on still another stumble through the jungle adventure. And I started a couple of other scripts too. What can I say, I'm a multi-tasker. I don't clean but I can sure whip up a batch of magic brownies.

PJMcIlvaine

I fell for a great April Fool's Day joke. I read at one of the boards that Uwe Boll was going to helm a remake of ROSEMARY'S BABY. I was disgusted, and so was my husband when I told him about it. Turns out it was a hoax.

I got some great notes on my ROMANCING THE WISHBONE spec and have been working on that this weekend. Ideally, I'd love to hear some news regarding my ORACLE spec. It's a feel good rom-com in the vein of MOONSTRUCK and MBFGW. I can only pray that lightning can strike twice.

In the meantime....deal or no deal!

Eureka!

Two of the best words in the English language: THE END. Yes, I finally typed those two words on Saturday afternoon, and I was very happy. Now the hard work comes. I shipped the draft off to my co-writer and am anxiously awaiting to hear from her. In the meantime, I took Sunday off and dove back into writing on Monday. No rest for the weary.

Good thing: The new season of BLOW OUT starts tonight.

Bad thing: No HOUSE due to the reality show I shall not name.

Good thing: I saw A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE over the weekend. I loved it. Viggo has a damn fine ass.

Bad thing: I was disappointed with WALK THE LINE. I thought it was good, not great. The second half falls into a redundant mess.

Good thing: I am now hooked on PRISON BREAK.

Bad thing: 24 is not on every night. How could they leave us hanging like this, with LA under martial law and trying kill David Palmer's brother? For shame!

Good thing: HELL'S KITCHEN is coming back!

Bad thing: The winner of this year's PROJECT RUNWAY. Blecch!

New Christmas News

It's on the IMDB under the title A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS (which I hate, bah humbug).

Post Oscar thoughts:

Clooney should be nominated for every Oscar there is. He is the eptiome of class, charm, old time glamour and intelligence. And he ain't hard on the eyes, either.

What on earth was Dior thinking of what that bow on Charlize's shoulder? I was afraid the thing was going to come alive and chomp on Charlize.

Naomi Watts looked like a bag lady who stumbled in out of the cold.

Morgan Freeman was ubercool with the neckerchief.

What bug crawled up the dress of Diane Ossana, Larry McMurtry's screenwriting partner? What a puss! Hey, you just won an Oscar, be happy!

Will somebody please scuttle the award for Best Song? Yeesh.

The show lacked in star power and glamour. There wasn't one "ooooh" moment in the three hour shebang. You know it must be going bad when the biggest laugh in the house was for a Dick Cheney joke.

Random Thoughts On A Sunny Afternoon

Beautiful day, snow on the way. Arggh!

So the Olympic spectacle is over...I wasn't surprised that Bode Miller was a total wipeout. I think he realized early on that he couldn't live up to the hype, so he decided to take himself out of the game. You'd expect this kind of immature behaviour from a 19 or 20 year old, but at 28, Bode should know better. Well, he has his groupies and his magazine covers to console him.

As for Sasha Cohen, as lovely and graceful as she is, I must disagree with the judges. Someone who falls twice during their long program doesn't deserve a medal.

Now onto other topics, like Dubai Bush. This adminstration (and I use the term loosely), has been on a downward spiral for months. At 34% in the polls and falling, he'll soon be in in Nixon territory. No wonder Republicans are starting to revolt. It's about fucking time!

As for Iraq, I'm of the mind that Rumself should send Cheney over with his quail gun. Talk about The Gang That Couldn't Shoot Straight! But Iraq isn't in a civil war, oh no. Pay no attention to those corpses in the morgue.

I saw a great movie last night, HOTEL RWANDA. Don Cheadle was magnificent. Intelligent, gripping.

I'm still with my thriller script, but I've moved a major plot point that had me stymied for a day or two. At the end of the day, we may have to jettison some plot machinations...I almost feel like we've packed too much in. I want this to come in at around 110 pages, and I'm on 85, which doesn't leave me much room for all to come. Better to have too much than not.

And yes, I'll have my party pajamas on for the Oscar telecast. I hope David Straithairn wins, but who knows?

Rewrite City

Sorry I've been remiss of late posting, but I'm deep in rewrite city. Don't you just love it when you're following a plot line and it suddenly veers in another direction, like Bode Miller at the Olympics (but hopefully with a better outcome). All I can do is hunker down and see where it leads.

Speaking of the Olympics...I hate to admit it, but I'm a viewer who secretly tunes in to see the wipe outs, the falls, the DQ's, the favorites crash and burn, the underdogs winning the day. This doesn't make me a bad person (I don't think). But I am sick of the hype and the chattering of NBC nabobs who, in the absence of Michelle Kwan, trot out a Team USA hero (or goat) of the day.

Bode Miller is the Gold Medal favorite! Ooops, Bode crashes after a night of partying.

Lindsay Jacobellis was all but annointed the Queen of Snowboard Cross, and then tossed the gold medal like a Joe Namath touchdown pass to Freidan after that silly showboating trick.

Johnny Weir was a shoo-in for the silver if he skated a good long program, but he left his aura back in his hotel room.

Where's Tonya Harding when we need her? We need a good scandal to liven things up.

Otherwise, the Olympics drones on...ad nauseum...with pre-taped events. I'm still trying to figure out the waltzing cows from the opening ceremony. Maybe they could get Dick Cheney to make an appearance for the closing ceremonies, dressed in lederhosen shooting at doves.

DEAD ON A SUNDAY

I have no idea where this is going or even if it should go anywhere. The entire sequence came to me early this morning, so I'm just writing it down and see where it leads. The tentative title is DEAD ON A SUNDAY: A SHARPE SISTERS MYSTERY. It's about twin sisters Bobbie and Tina, suburban semi-goddesses, who find themselves in a whoop ass can full of trouble when Tina's about to be ex is murdered and Bobbie becomes the primary suspect.

http://sharpesistersmystery.blogspot.com/

Check it out if you can and let me know what you think.

And no, I'm not giving up screenwriting. This is side job. :)

Bad Gurl

Sorry I have been remiss of late, have been extremely busy.

It looks like the CHRISTMAS shoot will wind up on Wednesday, and by all accounts, it went very smoothly. Now the fun begins in post-prod!

I thought the Super Bowl sucked. It only got interesting in the fourth quarter.

When is Santino gonna get the boot on PROJECT RUNWAY? He's a talentless hack.

Am focusing on my SNOWBLIND script for the forseeable future and hope to eke out a "vomit draft" before too long.

With the big splash BIG MOMMA'S HOUSE 2 made at the box office, I sent out a fresh batch of queries on my THERE GOES THE MOTHERHOOD. Got a few nibbles.

My monthly column at DONE DEAL has been put on hiatus until they decide if they want to carry it over to their new site, DONE DEAL PRO.

Am having fun with the Kitchen Aid Mixer I got as a B-Day present from the kids (as if I don't bake enough). I'm on a "yeast" kick and have pretty much perfected the "Cinnabon" clone recipe. Now I gotta work on the brownies. I have yet to come up with a scratch recipe that is equal to Duncan Hines milk chocolate chunk in the box.

Thank You, Oprah

I am gratified that in response to my earlier post, the Grand Goddess of Syndication, Oprah, followed my lead and gave James Frey a good old fashioned ass-whoopin'. It was the modern day equivalent of the stocks, and by the end, poor Frey loked as if he was ready for another root canal.

Only goes to show...politicians can lie, but don't you dare lie to Oprah!

Techno Impaired

I made some neat designs at Spreadshirt.com, but have no idea how I can post the link onto this website. Help!

Post Christmas News

I picked up the cashier's check today, so unless I'm hired for any more rewriting/polishes, I'm done with THE TOWN THAT BANNED CHRISTMAS. I wish the new producers/investors good luck. I wish I could say that the experience was a pleasant one. It started out on such a positive note, but hey, that's life. No sense getting an ulcer over it. Onto the next project and the next sale.

This week I finished the first draft of a new script, I began two new ones, and a manager I hooked up with shortly before the holidays is planning on submitting my ORACLE OF ORCHARD STREET (think MBFGW meets MOONSTRUCK) to her contacts very soon.

So, at least for today, this second, I'm happy. I bought myself new mascara (buy one, get one free!) and for dessert, I'll probably have my Cookies n' Cream splurge in celebration.

Ah, life is good.

No, I Won't Be Watching American Idol This Year

That's right.

I used to be a huge fan of AMERICAN IDOL. The first year, the right person won: Kelly Clarkson. The fact that she's now a superstar in spite of that dreadful FROM JUSTIN TO KELLY fiasco is testimony to her tremendous talent. Also, keep in mind, that Kelly's only had this success since she burned her bridges with the show.

The second year, Clay got robbed, like Al Gore. Reuben is a great talent, but based
on his last few performances on the show, he was clearly running out of gas. And the way Simon and the crew pimped Reuben unmercilessly, you knew he had to win.

The third year it was a foregone conclusion that Fantasia was going to win. No suspense whatsoever. But I still clung to the belief that this was a talent
show. Silly me.

Last year disabused me of that belief forever. The Paula scandal notwithstanding, the show had turned into a reality entertainment show. Talent was secondary
to the producers reality. I told my family that if Bo Bice lost and Paula remained as a host, I'd never watch the show again.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

My Memoirs

I once did blow with Peter Tork, I'm the illegitimate child of Marlon Brando, and I was once led police on a high speed chase through four states.

Well, er, not quite.

But who the fuck cares? I'm a reformed ice cream addict, this is the essential truth of my life as I saw it through the haze of Cookies n' Cream. So what if I embellished it? It's just a memoir, a memory of my life, subject to my interpretation of it.

I can stretch the truth too and be on Oprah. Hell, I don't need to make up anything. What I've been through since 2001 would be enough to fill two books. But for someone like, oh, an unknown author who initially tried to peddle his "memoir" as "fiction" but could only sell it as "non-fiction" once he ramped up some little nigging details, it's okay! Jason Blair be damned!

So what if the police record isn't true and a lot of other details that made Oprah and millions of other readers go ga-ga. And what the hell is she going to say now that cat is out of the bag? Well, the "essence" of the book is true!

Well, ya know, I could write a memoir about how in a drug induced haze, I burned and ate a kitten. Okay, I never ate a kitten. Okay, I was never in a drug induced haze.

BUT I COULD HAVE AND IF I HAD, THIS WOULD BE THE ESSENCE OF IT.

What's the matter with these so-called writers? Did they graduate from the McDonald School of Journalism?

Happy New Year

I've been a little under the weather, so please forgive me for my lack of posting.

Good news: I've lost weight. Hooray!

Bad news: I miss my potato chips.

Good news: My romantic comedy should be going to a very big studio shortly. Keep your fingers crossed.

Bad news: What's with all the fucking HOUSE reruns?

Good news: I'm almost done with the first draft of a new spec.

Bad news: Rewrite Hell.

Good news: Supermarket restocked my favorite cookies.

Bad news: No snow.

Good news: I got NATIONAL TREASURE. Yay!

Bad news: Mother hates the remake of WAR OF THE WORLDS, which I also got.

Let's hope for a healthy and prosperous 2006.

Cat in a Christmas Tree

The cats were pretty good at first, but now Mozart has learned that climbing the tree and pawing at the ornaments and bows is more fun than chasing his tail. So far we've lost four ornaments and I shudder to think what we're going to find when we take the damn thing down. And he just doesn't climb the thing, he sits in it and sticks his head out like a monkey. Stephanie says there should be a way of wiring the tree so he gets an electric shock.

After a tumultous two weeks, filming on CHRISTMAS went on hiatus and hopefully the director will pick it up again sometime in January.

In the meantime, I'm busy writing, what else. I'm between and betwixt this script and that, and my co-writer in California is working on a "vomit draft" of our thriller SNOWBLIND. Just before Christmas, I hooked up with a LA manager who wants to bring my rom com ORACLE OF ORCHARD STREET to her contacts. She loved the script and called it a mix of MOONSTRUCK and MBFGW, so I have high hopes that something good will come of it. That was a nice little Christmas present!

Trump to Randall: You Blew It

My dearly beloved PROJECT RUNWAY deserves its own post, so I'll save my thoughts on that for another day as I feel the need to vent about the bizarre finale of THE APPRENTICE last night. I was so upset that this morning I even called The Trump Organization to tell them how disappointed I was.

Up until the last two minutes, I would've been happy with either Randall or Rebecca, although I leaned towards Rebecca. Her street smarts, her ability to think fast, her tenacity, her loyalty, all in my mind, made her the perfect Apprentice.

Randall, for all his celebrated book smarts, showed an appalling lack of common sense. Let's not forget that Randall was the one who put the wrong radio frequency on a poster during one task, and in his final task, had no backup plan in place when the charity softball game was rained out.

Let me also point out that even though the guests at the Yahoo event failed to pony up cash for the Pediatric AIDS Foundation, that wasn't Rebecca's fault. The Yahoo execs were skittish about directly shilling for dollars. But in the end, Yahoo did the right thing and donated $100K to be split equally between the two charities. So a case could be strongly made that due to Rebecca, the Autistic charity got an extra $50K.

However, I was willing to let all that slide...up until Randall showed his true colors in the selfish, embarrassing way he declined to co-share with Rebecca. Even more disheartening was Trump's reaction. He seemed pussy whipped, totally befuddled as he stammered. Worse was the way the audience booed. It was a dismal end to an otherwise fine season.

Was I the only one who thought Randall reeked? I guess not, because at MSNBC, the headline was (to paraphrase) "Randall Proved Himself To Be A Selfish Lout And Asshole." Not the headlines Trump was hoping for.

I was also stunned by the vicious remarks by some of Rebecca's female teammates. Allah was so out of line, even Trump cut her off. Marshawn's critical remarks wasn't surprising, because Rebecca had been the one to step up to the plate when Marshawn declined to give a presentation because she was afraid that if her team lost, she'd be blamed. Trump saw through Marshawn's phony excuse and fired her sorry ass.

Even at the end, with the audience booing, Rebecca maintained her poise and grace while Randall cavorted like a greedy buffoon. Her two words to Trump summed it up nicely: "That's unfortunate."

If I had been Trump, when Randall came out with his lame explanation of why there should only be one Apprentice, I would've stopped the show, admitted that I had made a blunder, stripped Randall of the win and awarded it to Rebecca.

A pox on both Trump and Randall. An entire season down the drain in the last two minutes due to Randall's boorish behavior and Trump's waffling. Good going, guys.

Lil Xmas News

Hubby still working on the press release. He needs an updated list from the director as I know one actress had to be replaced at the last minute due to a death in the family. Haven't heard anything more about how the shoot is going.

On a side note, I was interviewed by a reporter from our paper of record, Newsday (and my employer though I haven't been paid since June, still on disability, and they won't transfer me to an office closer to home), so it appears as if they're going to do a story on it. Let's hope its a positive one!

Christmas Updates

I spoke to John the director last night. He sounded tired, but happy. Yesterday he did a script read with the main cast. So far, the feedback from the rewrite I did over the weekend has been favorable (save for my sexy Santa Elf scene) and everyone thinks I'm "brilliant." (John's words, not mine.). And we got a nice little blast of snow last night, only a couple of inches, and today is cold, bright and sunny---the picture perfect backdrop for the first day of shooting.

My hubby is still working on the press release (when he's done tinkering with it I'll post it) and contacting local media, but the cast includes Carol Alt, Matt McCoy, Austin Pendleton and Hunter Gomez. John is trying to get celebrities to show up for cameos for the big Christmas tree/holiday festival scenes. Keep your fingers crossed!

The Town That Banned Christmas

So...finally the director got the rest of the moolah he needed, and everything so far seems to be a go for Monday. I did a last minute revise last night and am still waiting to hear back about it. I had to beef up one character and add two new ones...and naturally they wanted it ASAP.

Next chapter to follow....

Tryptophan Coma

Okay, T-Day is out of the way, along with the amaretto cheesecake. Great recipe but lousy baking instructions. DO NOT BAKE A CHEESECAKE AT 450 DEGREES FOR AN HOUR. The top will burn. And if the recipe says to invert the cake: DON'T!!!!!!!!!!!

Good News: It looks like THE TOWN THAT BANNED CHRISTMAS is a go. The director secured the last of his financing. Shooting should begin on Monday barring last minute trauma or bounced checks.

Bad News: Still don't have my computer.

Good News: The computer is fixed, hubby was just too lazy to get it.

Bad News: Still no moolah from my disability insurance.

Good News: My claim is still "under review".

Bad News: Still no word on INTO THE AMAZON or RANDOM ACTS.

Good News: Agent said he submitted RA to a prodco who invested in NORTH COUNTRY.

Bad News: NORTH COUNTRY tanked.

Good News: I got my hair cut and blown out. I looked great.

Bad News: I can't blow my hair out like the hairdresser did. I look like a moron.

Good News: Our car is now registered and inspected.

Bad News: We got a ticket for driving the car with an expired registration.

Good News: Bush's approval ratings are blowing out faster than the M&M balloon at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Bad News: Bush is still President.

Happy T-Day!

We're trying an assortment of new recipes this year, so we'll see how this turns out. Every year, when I try to vary the menu, everyone has a favorite that they can't live without.

Nov. 28th is supposed to be the start date of my Christmas movie, but I haven't heard from the director in a few days...

Mercury Retrograde

My computer crashed, my car's been in the shop all week, still didn't get the money owed to me from my employer, still didn't get the cat's flea medicine, still didn't get the money from disability insurance, my-cowriter on INTO THE AMAZON hated my revise, still didn't get my haircut, got my period...

What else can go wrong??????????????????????????????

Don't Cry For Me, Judy Miller

Cos I'm gonna make a pile of dough
Going on all the Fox news shows
So what if I gave the wrong info
It's all in who you know
And I knew Scooter
And I knew Chalabi
That little fatty
So what if I drove the New York Times batty
I did my best
The hell with the rest
Cos I'm gonna make a pile of dough
Remembering what I didn't know
I was a jaibird
Now I'm a snowbird
Looking at the leaves in Aspen falling
While reading "The Apprentice's" bear balling
I got my severance pay
But I won't fade away
Cos I got all those Fox news shows in my lap
To dissemble more faux news crap
So don't cry...for me!!!!!!!!!!! (High quivering falsetto)

Life goes on. So Bush had a bad Tuesday, take two Tylenol and resign. Take Peaches Libby with you while you're at it.

I'm almost (I said almost) feel sorry for Frist. Talk about a doctor who can't keep his scalpel straight.

Isn't anyone embarrassed by Libby's fiction? His book, not his fanciful tale about the leak. Who knew Repubs had such filthy imaginations? He should get together with Lynne Cheney and write a sequel. Number One at Amazon with a condom.

In the meantime, Rove is still under Fitz's microscope, more innocent people are dying in Iraq, and the guy who had his ass stuck to the john seems to have a history of this. Talk about a rough patch.

In my world, things are still the same. Waiting, worrying and working.

BTW, my hubby (a writer/editor of many years) and I are launching a little side biz, writing, proofing and editing manuscripts, scripts, articles, queries, treatments, press releases, letters, techo-crap, you name it. We're cheap and fast and you get four eyes for the price of two. Better than a Happy Meal!

If anyone's interested, give me a toot, I mean, a hoot.

Post Hallo-weenie

If all goes according to plan, my THE TOWN THAT BANNED CHRISTMAS is slated to start filming on November 28th. We're going to need extras (unpaid) for the big Christmas tree scene, so if any of you are on LI and want to be in a movie, any movie, drop me a line and I'll see what I can do.

I am very disappointed in my Halloweenies. We decorated the house, bought bags and bags of treats (good ones, too), and our house got egged anyway. Many kids didn't even say "trick or treat", they just grabbed the candy and ran. The little tots looked befuddled. And they started coming late, too. I figured the toddlers would come early in the afternoon, like last year, before the teenagers and their shaving cream. At one point, it was so dead, I went into the street looking for trick or treaters.

Stephanie says she's so over trick or treating; at 17, she's too old for such juvenile antics. Instead, she paid good money to be scared witless at a haunted house.

Oh, to be young...