#1 way you know the world is ending:
"Kangaroo Jack" is #1 at the box office. It's the end times, I'm tellin' ya.
Anyway, I haven’t updated this LiveJournal in kind of a while, leaving you all breathless with anticipation, I’m sure. And evidently I’ve been saving up things to say all this time, because Goddamn did this turn out wordy. I may just beat the new Harry Potter book for length. (I heard a poem on that very topic, btw: “ The new Harry Potter book, due out in June, Is rumored to weigh twice as much as the moon.”)
I just talked to a friend of mine, so I’m feeling better, but I’ve been somewhat out of sorts, the last few days. Part of it has just been my not tending to certain things I know I need to do to make sure I feel okay - going a little too long without. But one part of it I know I can talk about here is the fact that, a year after its conception, I finally finished the Buffy spec I’ve promised to all and sundry for all that time.
Finishing this thing is a major WHOOPEEEEE! on one count - my Spec-O-Phobia was evidently pretty huge and so is getting over it, and hopefully just the start of Great Things To Come, like we all wish for ourselves. I’d love to show off the finished product to my friends in fandom, because I think (and have been told) it’s good, but it gets into this weird area. Number One, if I post it someplace, anybody who wants themselves a free spec can just yank it off the web, and that, quite frankly, I’m against. And then I envisioned Number Two, which was the (admittedly far-fetched) scenario where someone discovers that the spec I’m sending around is on the web, and thinks that I stole it. Would I then have to prove somehow that I am my alter ego, that I didn’t steal Anne Hedonia’s script? Too much weirdness, so for now I figure this Great Work of Art must remain in my RL realm. :-P
And yet, this finishing thing is also one of those ‘what do I do now?’ things. Which is a little premature - I haven’t actually handed it into my agent(s) or any of those aforementioned Sundries yet, so it’s not really like it’s officially DONE; it hasn’t really even started on its little journey as my look-I-really-can-write industry calling card. (And frankly, if my agents give me notes or ask for changes, I’m thinking of telling them politely to go pound sand. Because I’ve learned two things: fandom people know the show better than anybody in the whole goddamn world, and are helpful and positive when you show them something you’re working on. I’ve shown this script to no less than two excellent fic writers, one fic reader/raving fan and two just plain raving fans. All have given me very useful, insightful feedback and encouragement, and agree that this finished product is worthy of being shown around. The second thing I learned is that my agent(s), on the other hand, have proven themselves to be the usual Hollywood it-can’t-be-done-unless-it’s-been-done-before-and-made-a-billion-dollars-and-even-then-I’m-not-sure sorts. They’re nice people, and they’ve done a lot for me and I VERY much appreciate them, but they are just as nervous as everyone else out here seems to be, and take the Conventional Wisdom as gospel. Their idea of script notes seems to be: “This joke needs to be funnier. Fix it.” Well, how should I fix it? What is it lacking? What would make it stronger, in your opinion? “Um...I don’t know. I just know it’s not funny enough.” Bleah - soul-pounding and not useful, what a delightful combination. The only way I could get through this spec was by not even telling them I was doing it until I was almost done. If I’d told them before, they’d have argued with the premise, and the outline, and the first draft, if they’d even decided I was “allowed” write a Buffy spec to start with. I told one of my agents once that I was in love with Six Feet Under, and that I’d like to get into that kind of dramedy sort of thing. My agent responded that she couldn’t “sell” me as that. “Don’t write a Six Feet Under,” she said curtly, as though I were suggesting breaking into a drunken strip tease at a party.
I’m told that two of my friends have connections to ME, as well. I’d very much like TPTB to see the script - even though that too defies the Conventional Wisdom - but a lot of people who’ve heard I’m writing this are like “Well, the show’s ending soon, isn’t it? They’re not going to need more writers, are they? And they sure aren’t going to buy it.” Well, no, that was never the point. It wouldn’t have been impossible, certainly - I’ve actually heard of it happening - but this is just supposed to be my calling card, and if ME thinks I have a good sensibility, that I can soak up a show of theirs and reproduce it for them, then that’s a Good, see? I just hope someone at ME doesn’t take the same tack, and say “Sorry, kid, but the show’s ending - or didn’t you hear?” Grrrrr - that would be humiliating. Yes, I have an inkling about where the show’s going - I eat, sleep and breathe this fucking show, or didn’t you hear? I also hate hitting people up for favors like that. Thankfully, with one person it shouldn’t be any trouble - they’re rooting for it as much as anybody - but that aspect of the Hollywood Life makes me feel like a leech, as I’m often too chicken to return the favor when it arises, or if I do and said favor doesn’t work out, I feel like it must be all my fault for not pushing hard enough.
Anyway, my immediate discomfort is just sort of ‘what do I do with my day now?’ I have spent the last few months not working, because I was lucky enough to make enough money over the summer to ride out the usual holiday employment doldrums. I’ve gotten into a habit of going out every day with my laptop to write, and I at this point it’s such a habit that I hate skipping a day - it’s also useful for getting out of the house, making one feel Purposeful, and avoiding thinking about one’s personal problems. Yes, I do have another Tara/Spike fic in mind, as well as an old original short story to re-edit for possible viewing by something other than the inside of my filing cabinet, but...I’ve gotten kind of invested in the idea of writing things that might further my immediate career - things that seem useful to the outside world, as well as the fandom one. (I’ll never say that writing fic is a waste of time - I’ve learned way too much from it. But I think you probably understand what I mean, without my having to explain unduly.) I like the idea of my agents not looking at me like I’m some poor pathetic recluse that they merely humor, or the idea of getting a job in some kind of writer’s room where I get to hash it out with others, although the last one I was in completely exhausted me - all those people in my day, wanting me to acknowledge and look at and talk to them, when it’s normally just cats! - and that room only lasted a week (by design - no one got sacked or anything). Anything longer than that and I might end up in the hospital from Social Exhaustion. But all the other writers are always talking about the specs they’re actually accomplishing all on their own, or the Real Prime Time Jobs they’re on or starting or just finishing, and a lot of the time I want to be one of them, and have usually felt guilty and lazy for not being involved in the same thing. Getting into fic has sort of built that drive in me, in a sort of sideways manner - always caring about a show and wanting to write something based on it. But instead of staying solely in fic, I want to join the Club, mostly because it Looks Cool. And oh yeah - lots of money. Very shallow reasons, really. But I am nothing if not too hard on myself - I can just make my Own Club and not worry about anyone else. Hell, I seem to spend my life ridiculously worried about What I Should Be Doing, and doing that can make your head explode (and for which, I’d need to borrow mustangsally78’s helmet/foil hat, made for just that purpose).
So tonight I came out with my laptop and just wrote this.
As far as getting work in my usual arena, my agent informs me that it is “challenging” right now to find work for her clients, as 1) Bush and his cronies have put the economy in the shitter and 2) a major player in the game I work in is getting out of U.S. business. I happen to believe in manifesting, in choosing what you want to be true and believing it in order to make it true, and so I am writing this right now, with all of you out there as my witnesses: This month, January 2003, I have been given and am beginning work on my next television writing job, a nice secure job for multiple scripts, and for which I am being handsomely paid, and which will allow me to take the two-week trip to England and France I’ve been planning for April. (lovesbitca, look out, I may just ask to pop by and terrorize you with my loud American manners. :-P) And so it is.
There. I had intended to write about worry, but found the solution instead. :)
Why couldn’t I have done that fourteen paragraphs ago? :) Well, then what would you have read then? And more importantly, what would I have written??
Anyway, I haven’t updated this LiveJournal in kind of a while, leaving you all breathless with anticipation, I’m sure. And evidently I’ve been saving up things to say all this time, because Goddamn did this turn out wordy. I may just beat the new Harry Potter book for length. (I heard a poem on that very topic, btw: “ The new Harry Potter book, due out in June, Is rumored to weigh twice as much as the moon.”)
I just talked to a friend of mine, so I’m feeling better, but I’ve been somewhat out of sorts, the last few days. Part of it has just been my not tending to certain things I know I need to do to make sure I feel okay - going a little too long without. But one part of it I know I can talk about here is the fact that, a year after its conception, I finally finished the Buffy spec I’ve promised to all and sundry for all that time.
Finishing this thing is a major WHOOPEEEEE! on one count - my Spec-O-Phobia was evidently pretty huge and so is getting over it, and hopefully just the start of Great Things To Come, like we all wish for ourselves. I’d love to show off the finished product to my friends in fandom, because I think (and have been told) it’s good, but it gets into this weird area. Number One, if I post it someplace, anybody who wants themselves a free spec can just yank it off the web, and that, quite frankly, I’m against. And then I envisioned Number Two, which was the (admittedly far-fetched) scenario where someone discovers that the spec I’m sending around is on the web, and thinks that I stole it. Would I then have to prove somehow that I am my alter ego, that I didn’t steal Anne Hedonia’s script? Too much weirdness, so for now I figure this Great Work of Art must remain in my RL realm. :-P
And yet, this finishing thing is also one of those ‘what do I do now?’ things. Which is a little premature - I haven’t actually handed it into my agent(s) or any of those aforementioned Sundries yet, so it’s not really like it’s officially DONE; it hasn’t really even started on its little journey as my look-I-really-can-write industry calling card. (And frankly, if my agents give me notes or ask for changes, I’m thinking of telling them politely to go pound sand. Because I’ve learned two things: fandom people know the show better than anybody in the whole goddamn world, and are helpful and positive when you show them something you’re working on. I’ve shown this script to no less than two excellent fic writers, one fic reader/raving fan and two just plain raving fans. All have given me very useful, insightful feedback and encouragement, and agree that this finished product is worthy of being shown around. The second thing I learned is that my agent(s), on the other hand, have proven themselves to be the usual Hollywood it-can’t-be-done-unless-it’s-been-done-before-and-made-a-billion-dollars-and-even-then-I’m-not-sure sorts. They’re nice people, and they’ve done a lot for me and I VERY much appreciate them, but they are just as nervous as everyone else out here seems to be, and take the Conventional Wisdom as gospel. Their idea of script notes seems to be: “This joke needs to be funnier. Fix it.” Well, how should I fix it? What is it lacking? What would make it stronger, in your opinion? “Um...I don’t know. I just know it’s not funny enough.” Bleah - soul-pounding and not useful, what a delightful combination. The only way I could get through this spec was by not even telling them I was doing it until I was almost done. If I’d told them before, they’d have argued with the premise, and the outline, and the first draft, if they’d even decided I was “allowed” write a Buffy spec to start with. I told one of my agents once that I was in love with Six Feet Under, and that I’d like to get into that kind of dramedy sort of thing. My agent responded that she couldn’t “sell” me as that. “Don’t write a Six Feet Under,” she said curtly, as though I were suggesting breaking into a drunken strip tease at a party.
I’m told that two of my friends have connections to ME, as well. I’d very much like TPTB to see the script - even though that too defies the Conventional Wisdom - but a lot of people who’ve heard I’m writing this are like “Well, the show’s ending soon, isn’t it? They’re not going to need more writers, are they? And they sure aren’t going to buy it.” Well, no, that was never the point. It wouldn’t have been impossible, certainly - I’ve actually heard of it happening - but this is just supposed to be my calling card, and if ME thinks I have a good sensibility, that I can soak up a show of theirs and reproduce it for them, then that’s a Good, see? I just hope someone at ME doesn’t take the same tack, and say “Sorry, kid, but the show’s ending - or didn’t you hear?” Grrrrr - that would be humiliating. Yes, I have an inkling about where the show’s going - I eat, sleep and breathe this fucking show, or didn’t you hear? I also hate hitting people up for favors like that. Thankfully, with one person it shouldn’t be any trouble - they’re rooting for it as much as anybody - but that aspect of the Hollywood Life makes me feel like a leech, as I’m often too chicken to return the favor when it arises, or if I do and said favor doesn’t work out, I feel like it must be all my fault for not pushing hard enough.
Anyway, my immediate discomfort is just sort of ‘what do I do with my day now?’ I have spent the last few months not working, because I was lucky enough to make enough money over the summer to ride out the usual holiday employment doldrums. I’ve gotten into a habit of going out every day with my laptop to write, and I at this point it’s such a habit that I hate skipping a day - it’s also useful for getting out of the house, making one feel Purposeful, and avoiding thinking about one’s personal problems. Yes, I do have another Tara/Spike fic in mind, as well as an old original short story to re-edit for possible viewing by something other than the inside of my filing cabinet, but...I’ve gotten kind of invested in the idea of writing things that might further my immediate career - things that seem useful to the outside world, as well as the fandom one. (I’ll never say that writing fic is a waste of time - I’ve learned way too much from it. But I think you probably understand what I mean, without my having to explain unduly.) I like the idea of my agents not looking at me like I’m some poor pathetic recluse that they merely humor, or the idea of getting a job in some kind of writer’s room where I get to hash it out with others, although the last one I was in completely exhausted me - all those people in my day, wanting me to acknowledge and look at and talk to them, when it’s normally just cats! - and that room only lasted a week (by design - no one got sacked or anything). Anything longer than that and I might end up in the hospital from Social Exhaustion. But all the other writers are always talking about the specs they’re actually accomplishing all on their own, or the Real Prime Time Jobs they’re on or starting or just finishing, and a lot of the time I want to be one of them, and have usually felt guilty and lazy for not being involved in the same thing. Getting into fic has sort of built that drive in me, in a sort of sideways manner - always caring about a show and wanting to write something based on it. But instead of staying solely in fic, I want to join the Club, mostly because it Looks Cool. And oh yeah - lots of money. Very shallow reasons, really. But I am nothing if not too hard on myself - I can just make my Own Club and not worry about anyone else. Hell, I seem to spend my life ridiculously worried about What I Should Be Doing, and doing that can make your head explode (and for which, I’d need to borrow mustangsally78’s helmet/foil hat, made for just that purpose).
So tonight I came out with my laptop and just wrote this.
As far as getting work in my usual arena, my agent informs me that it is “challenging” right now to find work for her clients, as 1) Bush and his cronies have put the economy in the shitter and 2) a major player in the game I work in is getting out of U.S. business. I happen to believe in manifesting, in choosing what you want to be true and believing it in order to make it true, and so I am writing this right now, with all of you out there as my witnesses: This month, January 2003, I have been given and am beginning work on my next television writing job, a nice secure job for multiple scripts, and for which I am being handsomely paid, and which will allow me to take the two-week trip to England and France I’ve been planning for April. (lovesbitca, look out, I may just ask to pop by and terrorize you with my loud American manners. :-P) And so it is.
There. I had intended to write about worry, but found the solution instead. :)
Why couldn’t I have done that fourteen paragraphs ago? :) Well, then what would you have read then? And more importantly, what would I have written??