Thoughts for the weekend

I'm going on a brief vacation out of town. You gotta get out of town at least once a year, I say.

I got to page 60 in my script, which was my goal. I didn't want to leave town until I had at least 60 pages. I also enjoyed these last few pages more than the rest, which hopefully means I can go back to the beginning and rewrite those pages to make them even stronger now that I have a clearer sense of the script's identity.

Things that have annoyed me on television lately:

I hate that Hughes Net commercial. I don't know if you guys get it where you are, but it comes on ALL THE TIME on my TV. Hughes Net is some kind of internet service provider, and their whole schtick is this idea that you may be in the middle of nowhere, but that doesn't mean you have to settle for dial-up internet! But I'm not in the middle of nowhere. I'm in the greater Los Angeles area. Nobody here is getting back to nature. Where do they think they're advertising? Drives me an unreasonable amount of bonkers.

Dear Colby on Top Shot, please stop smiling like the Joker. It creeps me out. You don't actually have to talk through your teeth.

I wish high school kids were played by people who look remotely like high school kids. When your high school junior has forehead wrinkles he is not believable as a teenager. I'm looking at you, tough slutty guy on Glee.

A thing that made me happy recently:

Fright Night was fun. The lead had forehead wrinkles and the high school scenes were a bit silly, but once things got going it was quite enjoyable. But by far the most joy to be had in that film was.....

VERY SLIGHT SPOILER THAT YOU COULD DEDUCE FROM LOOKING AT THE CAST LIST, WHICH I DID NOT

...When David Tennant showed up. I was looking at this magic guy thinking, this dude is basically Russel Brand, so why didn't they just hire Russel Brand? Why hire this random actor guy? Who is this guy anyway? Seems familiar. And then he pulls off his wig and his facial hair and I squealed. I ADORE David Tennant in all forms. And he wasn't just a cameo, either. He was a liquored up leather-clad badass with a filthy mouth. He made that film way better than I expected it to be. I just wish I hadn't been tricked into watching it in 3D because the 3D was completely unecessary.

Have a good weekend, everybody.

Aborted plans and X Men

Took my niece to Camarillo Outlet Mall yesterday. I planned to spend all kinds of money on her, because isn't that what aunts are for? But she didn't want much until we hit Forever 21. Good thing she didn't buy anything else all day except a Glee button, because she nearly cleaned out my bank account in that place.

Anyhow, we ended up spending quite a bit of time there, and of course we had to introduce the girl to In and Out because she thinks McDonald's is good food, so we found ourselves racing to get home. We had tickets to see Clueless followed by a Q&A at the Aero in Santa Monica.

It took me a while to find the Clueless screening. I knew I wanted to take her to see something she couldn't get back home, something that would give her real exposure to the movie industry, and Clueless was the perfect PG-13 film. It was to be followed by Fast Times, but we weren't staying for that. I can just see myself trying to explain to my sister why her daughter watched Judge Reinholdt masturbate in a bathroom. We kind of hoped she'd fall asleep after the Q&A so we could stay and watch guilt free, but the girl does not sleep. It's ridiculous.

So I bought the tickets ahead of time because these things usually sell out. There we were, racing to get home in time to let the dogs out, change into our about-town clothes we just bought, and hop back in the car.

I live in the Valley, and as I said, the Aero is in Santa Monica. Know what that means? The 405. Know what time it was? 6:50pm. Movie started at 7:30. So if you live in LA, you see my problem.

We were just merging from the 101 to the 405 and it was 7:28. We finally had to admit it was not going to happen. We could make the Q&A, maybe the last half of the movie, but that was it. So I sighed away $30 in tickets and we took the next exit, which happened to bring us past the Sherman Oaks Arclight.

So it wasn't exactly a Q&A, but at least we introduced the girl to a quality theater. We looked at what was showing, and even though she really wanted to see Horrible Bosses and swore up and down that her mom lets her see R rated movies all the time, we gave her a choice between Transformers 2D or X Men First Class. Thank God she chose X Men.

In the end we spent $73 to see one movie. You're welcome, Hollywood.

By the by, they had Bridesmaids showing there. They also have Bridesmaids showing down the street from me at the $3 theater. Just thought people should know. Arclight is expensive.

If you don't know the Arclight theaters, they don't have commercials, just previews, and they have assigned seating so you don't have to do the mad rush to claim and save seats.

So we get in there and take our proper seats, and this dude comes in with his lady. He sits down right in front of my niece, but there's no empty seat next to him. The girl plops down in his lap and whips out her cell phone, texting away as the lights go down. There are empty seats in the theater, even two together, just not good ones.

So I say to her "Do you have a seat?" She insists she does. I say "And you're going to sit there texting?"

She put the phone away, and to her credit, we didn't hear a peep out of her or see her phone at all. I guess I scared her. The men on either side of that seat were too polite to complain about her all up in their personal space as she sat and watched the entire film in that dude's lap.

I really enjoyed the film overall. I had a few slightly spoilerish logistical issues - how did Mystique know Kevin Bacon had a helmet on? and why didn't Magneto make that Azreal or whatever dude take Charles to the hospital before he zapped away? I mean if they really are friends and all - but by and large I thought it was solid as hell. Loved all the cameos. It was like the movie gave us a game to play as we watched.

A whole bunch of people stayed to the end to watch the extra scene that didn't exist. There was a lot of grumbling when it did not appear.

My niece is coming

My 12-year-old niece is coming to town this week to stay for a while, so I get to do touristy things like stroll down the Walk of Fame and scope for celebrities. Fortunately she is really interested in how movies are made, so I've got us tickets to a screening with a Q&A. Universal Studios, a drive down the PCH, a visit to the Farmer's Market.

The challenge will be finding time to write. I know my writing will fall off a bit, so I'm lowering my expectations for the next couple of weeks, but I'm still going to try to write most days. I'm hoping to use the dogs in this capacity. Kids love dogs. I figure if I give her a dog and some toys and an hour to go entertain herself, she'll probably give me time to write. And if that doesn't work, we have an XBox.

I'm just hoping she understands why I have to shut myself off for an hour or so and doesn't feel slighted or something. I'm not that good with younger kids.

The 14-18 demographic I get, but any kid younger than that is kind of a mystery. She's too old for kid's stuff and too young for adult stuff.

Then again, this may be my chance to shape her appreciation of film for years to come. We may have to introduce her to The Terminator. And Star Wars. And Buffy. Time to turn that girl into a film nerd.

My trip to the ER

I put my hand through a window last night. Stupid old 1947 windows - did you know that if you smash on them with your hand they break? Who designed this weak shit?

So I smash my hand through the glass and I yell "Oh my god!" and then I think maybe it's okay. I mean it really feels like I didn't hurt myself. Then I pull my hand back into the house and see the enormous gash on the inside of my wrist.

My neighbor yells out "Are you okay?"

And I reply with "No!" even though at first I wanted to say I was fine but realized that a normal person would not think this was fine. I grab a paper towel because those commercials always tell me paper towels are really strong and would probably soak up lots of blood.

My neighbor shows up and thank god she did because otherwise I would have been found a day later being eaten by my dogs after I passed out from blood loss over my computer as I googled emergency rooms. A year and a half I've been living here and I still have no idea where the hospitals are.

So my neighbor tries to call 911 and I'm like "Hell no. That's expensive!"

So she grabs her sweater, hands me a dish towel my future in-laws gave me as part of their big Christmas package - sorry, Rita - and we drive to the emergency room. I haven't been to an emergency room since my first year in college when I rode in the ambulance while my best friend struggled against alcohol poisoning in the back. That was the night I discovered ham and pineapple pizza, so maybe tonight will also have some kind of positive outcome.

There's a lady passed out over a couple of chairs and when they call her name she doesn't budge. At this point my hand finally starts to hurt. My neighbor fills out my forms and I try to sign them. The intake nurse vaguely glances at my wound - a giant gash right next to my vein and going in the correct direction for suicide, but she just tells me it will be a few hours. I wonder if I pass out will I be seen sooner? Everybody else in the ER is there for a stomach ache except the passed-out lady. I wonder if any of them have a surprise pregnancy and are in labor.

Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution is on the TV. Why am I not recording this on the DVR?

A security guard comes out and wakes up the passed-out lady. Her face is soaking wet and she can't walk. She barely knows her own name. Somebody had apparently dropped her off along with an empty pill bottle and then left.

The bleeding has stopped as long as I don't move my hand. The wound is really gross. I think I see nerves. I know what those look like because I saw 127 Hours in the theater.

A woman comes out of the ER shaking, miserable, like death. Everybody feels bad for her and my hand doesn't hurt so much. While her husband runs and gets the car we wonder what she must have been like before, because they're releasing her but she looks awful. Her husband picks her up and carries her to the car because she can't walk.

After about two and a half hours I finally see the doctor. The nurse asks me how I am and I say "I'm an idiot."

"How many times have you been in for stitches?"

"This is the first."

"I've had them twelve times. I'm an idiot."

Some nurse in the hallway is on the phone. "His mom dropped him off. She says he's hearing voices. I believe he is a danger to himself and others."

Then I start feeling pukey. I've been looking at this nasty gash for a while so I think it's the hospital smells that are getting to me. But I don't puke. I pull out my Nook and read Roots, which gives me the opportunity to tell the nurse how much I love my Nook.

I know it's one of the most basic things they do, but I am always impressed with doctors' ability to stitch with pliers. I can't even sew buttons with my hands.

My hand's all wrapped up and I go home and decide not to worry about all the blood or the busted window and just watch Tron Legacy. It's better than I expected it to be.

I also have a cold.

EDITED TO ADD: My neighbor just sent me the picture she took with her phone. Yes, I am in my pajamas.

I'll miss you, vacation

I've had three weeks of holiday vacation and it's been fantastic. During vacations I always turn into a professional screenwriter as much as I can. I read scripts, write pages, watch movies with a critical eye, catch up on all my industry contacts, try to attend a function or two. I sort of pretend my day job doesn't exist.

During this vacation I managed to do almost the entire rewrite of Nice Girls and I'm much, much happier with this version than I was with the first. I finished yesterday after two days of marathon writing sessions, just in time to send it to the group for notes on Sunday. That leaves me four days to get my shit together to go back to work.

That's all great, but it makes it really really hard to actually go back to work.

I like my job. I like the kids, I like the control I have over how I spend my time, I like the fact that I get to talk all day about my favorite subject. I like having full health benefits and a livable wage. I hate the homework and getting up early and the time it takes away from writing.

It's that getting up early thing that's the real bitch. Everything that happens in this town seems to happen on a Thursday. Parties, screenings, panels. It's like everybody in town sleeps late on Friday so they consider Thursday part of the weekend. I can't do these things because I get up at 6am and have to talk on my feet all day to a bunch of volatile teenagers.

So since I have one more Thursday before I return to early rising, I'm taking advantage of it tonight. I'm going to a double feature of The Town and Gone Baby Gone at the Aero with a Q&A by the director between films.

You know who the director is, right? Right. I honestly cannot wait to see what he has to say because I love most of his work. People can say what they want about Ben Affleck, but the man knows his business.

It's stuff like this that makes me wish even more that this was my job. Every day that I sit and write and send emails and sign up for screenings makes me sigh and say "Why can't someone pay me to do this?"

You and me both, right?

I keep reminding myself that I'm at a point where all I have to do is make this script great. It's commercial, original, interesting, and in a genre that sells pretty well. I have people ready to read it who can get it where it needs to go. So if I just make this the best script I can, this may be the way to making my vacation life become my real life.

Stuff I did in 2010

Well, here we are again.

The best thing that happened to me in 2010 was I got a dog.

The worst thing that happened to me in 2010 was my house got broken into.

I got a rep, then I learned that getting a rep is not quite the answer I thought it would be. I also learned that I'm really good in meetings and would enjoy taking more of them.

My favorite movie of 2010 was The Good, The Bad, The Weird even though it technically came out in 2008.

The best movie I saw in theaters was 127 Hours. The most disappointing movie I saw in theaters was The Losers The Expendables Predators The Losers. I didn't see any really terrible movies in the theaters, but I wished some were better.

The move that gave me the most pleasant surprise was The Crazies.

I finished a script I started in 2009, wrote a free treatment for a project that went nowhere, wrote a spec script, and wrote two drafts of another script.

I joined a writers group.

I tried to watch GI Joe and Legion. I finished neither. Actually that's not true. I think I fell asleep watching GI Joe and didn't care enough to try to watch it again. I also fell asleep watching Inglorious Basterds, The Informant!, and The Men Who Stare at Goats.

Futurama came back. Yay!

I discovered that you can buy new designer clothes on Ebay for way less than at the store. I also discovered that I like designer clothes.

I laughed, I cried, I danced around my kitchen. I made sarcastic comments. I went to a couple of parties. I had a party.

My favorite screenplay I read all year was Gravity. I also loved The Kitchen Sink and My Mother's Curse.

Syfy network had the most consistently awesome shows this year, with BBC America coming in a close second, only because I think Top Gear blows.

I fell more in love with Joel McHale.

I killed two avocado trees.

I finished Goldeneye on the Wii on the Operative level with automatic targeting.

And that's some stuff I did this year.

Next year I'm going to finish Goldeneye on Agent level with intermediate level targeting. I like to keep my goals attainable.

Christmas Vacay

I spent all day using last year's Christmas present of a gift certificate to Burke Williams. All year I kept meaning to go in for a massage, but every time I thought about it I'd then think, if I go get a massage and hang out at the spa all day I won't get any writing done. Plus I have to grade papers and do research and clean the house and - well, that's kind of why I needed a massage.

Today I finally did it, mostly because I had to give somebody a ride over there anyway. I got my money's worth for sure. I drank every beverage they offer, ate both kinds of cookies they had on plates, and used almost every room in the spa.

And now I'm heading back home to the family for the vacation and I'm NOT bringing my computer. It will either be really relaxing or I will have a panic attack.

I'm still bringing a notebook and a pen, though, just in case I get any epiphanies.

Since I won't bring my computer, I won't post anything until I get back.

Have a good Christmas, everybody! See you Tuesday!

A bit of stream of consciousness

I just finished putting together a literary terms test and I am pooped. I'm still very excited about The Black List. I have to put grades in on Thursday but I can't stop reading. Today I read The Kitchen Sink - holy crap that shit was hilarious - and then started to read Everly, which is way more serious and kind of jolted me back into frowny land. I didn't finish because I had to run a department meeting.

Oh yeah, someone let me run a department meeting. I felt very important for a whole hour.

Anyway, I came up with a new story idea today. I've tried three times to write a script inspired by my job and never been able to crack it, mostly because I tried too hard. I set out to write a script about teaching, so the story wasn't organic. Today I kind of accidentally stumbled into a story that just so happened to use my knowledge. So hopefully this idea will stick. I'm not sure if I'll do it next, or the historical piece I've been researching. Either way the next piece will not be a comedy.

I'll kind of miss that. I've really enjoyed embracing comedy. For a long time I resisted it because I was afraid I'd suck, but it turns out I'm not so bad at it.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to finishing Everly. Then I'm going to dive into Die in a Gunfight, What Happened to Monday?, Gangster Squad, The Escort, Murder of a Cat, and Looper.

For the record, I do not have any of these scripts because Fox would sue me if I did. I am reading them through the power of my psychic mind. If you would like to read these scripts, I cannot help you. Especially if you're someone I've never even spoken to before. I am not being sarcastic. If we have never exchanged words, do not email me asking for scripts. How would you like it if I showed up at your house and threw a mug in your face demanding coffee?

Anyway, I've got three weeks of vacation, but I also have to research material for my historical story, rewrite Nice Girls, do homework our boss just assigned us, prep for a big project I have to teach in February, and at some point get a massage so I can get these shoulders off my earlobes.

Some people vacation. I get shit done.

A Cartoon

Tonight was parent conference night so I started my rewrite instead of grading papers while I waited for parents and wept over the disintegration of our political system.

In the meantime, a friend of mine sent me this because it reminded her of me. She nailed it. This is totally me. All the time.

This is also the process by which I come up with a lot of story ideas.

Sometimes on hikes with my friends I figure out the order in which we'd die if this was a horror movie, and who would turn out to be the killer.

The time I blew off party ettiquette

The UK has its own version of Law and Order now starring Doctor Who alum Freema Agyeman and everybody's favorite Battlestar pilot/lawyer/commander Jamie Bamber. It's a lot like our Law and Order, but with accents.

The problem I have is that each time I see Jamie Bamber I feel like an ass. I need to get this off my chest.

Be prepared for shameless name dropping.

I was invited to a screening of a Battlestar Galactica episode at the Cineramadome once thanks to a friend's awesome pull. I sat next to the lovely Jane Espenson and pelted her with questions about what it's like to write for James Marsters. Apparently just about every female actress who ever came on the show wanted to have a romantic storyline with Spike.

Anyway, Jane had my ticket to the after party and she stormed ahead after the screening where she was frequently stopped by fans. She was extremely gracious to everyone. In case you've ever wondered, she's every bit as awesome as you think she is.

At any rate, I'd talked to Mark Verheiden a couple of times at a few gatherings, and as I passed by him on my way to the party he waved me down and said hey. I smiled at him, then realized Jane was disappearing with my ticket to the party, so I kept moving even though he clearly expected me to stop and talk. I realized later what a giant asshole move that was. To Mark Verheiden. Who is just about the nicest guy ever, and also very talented and writing for shows and My Name is Bruce and about a million other things I wish I could do. And I didn't stop to talk to him because I am a moron. I doubt it has affected his life in any way, but I still think about it from time to time and slap myself in the head.

Anyway, I managed to get into the party where I stood right next to the ridiculously tall and stunning Lucy Lawless (See? Name dropping!) and my friend and I end up in a circle with Jamie Bamber. I held an intensely condensing drink in my hand, and right as my palm was completely wet my friend introduced me to him. "My hand is wet," I said. He said he didn't mind and made some kind of joke about wet drink hand.

So at this moment I could have wiped my hand on my pants and shook his hand, or just shook his hand with my wet one and gone about my business. Instead I shook his hand THEN wiped my hands on my pants. As if to say, ew, water I can handle, but Jamie Bamber hand is gross. Which is, of course, not what I meant because Jamie Bamber hand is sexy. But I could tell by his facial expression that I had just offended him beyond repair.

He and my friend got into a long conversation about Horatio Hornblower, which I've never seen, and I faded into the shadow with my now less wet hands. Jamie Bamber seemed annoyed that I was still standing there.

Had I been less of an ass that night, would my life be different? Probably not. But I'd feel less like a moron now every time I see Jamie Bamber on screen.

SAY HELLO

I'm having a pity party day again. I wrote like eight different posts for today and deleted them all because I sounded like a whiny bitch.

So I'll say one thing, and then I'm turning it over to you guys. I love Say Yes to the Dress on TLC. LOVE. You'd think a show about girls choosing a wedding dress would be boring, but it is not at all. I'm going to miss my daily fix when I go back to work next week. To be honest, though, I have an unnatural affinity for all wedding shows. Yes, me, girl who likes explosions and fist fights, I also LOVE wedding shows. I have layers. Girly, aggressive layers.

And that's my confession today. Now it's your turn. I've been growing over the past yearish, and some of you still lurk around and don't say hi. So say hi. Enough about me, let's talk about you. Who are you? What do you write? Do you love shows about weddings? Say hi. Even if you're like Oh, she doesn't mean me. Oh fuck yes I mean you. Say hi. It will make me feel like less of a vulnerable whiny bitch.

I packed my glasses already

 What picture did I choose? I can't see it.

Today I was going to tell the story of how my mom's corgi almost killed us both, but I took my contacts out then realized I already packed my glasses so I can't see what I am typing. Plus I have to be on a plane at 3am so I should go to bed soon. I will tell my story tomorrow.

I'll just say this so I can get this laptop off my chest: I spent most of today sitting by a lake reading a book by David West called Chasing Dragons. It's a journey through the history of the martial arts film broken down by country, then director, then film. Plus it's kind of funny in places. I've learned a lot of things about the history of the martial arts film, but most of all I've learned that Netflix does not carry a lot of old Japanese and Chinese stuff. How can you not carry a movie called How Wong Fei Hung Pitted a Lion Against a Dragon? I mean, seriously. I want to know how he did it.

Thanks Mom

After I read the script for My Mother's Curse I immediately sent it to my mother. She thought it was terrific and immediately got why I wanted her to read it. It's one of my favorite scripts of the year and I took a few notes from it because Salvage is about a mother/daughter relationship. One of the things My Mother's Curse does so well is pick up on the things all mothers do that drive us crazy; my favorite scene is when the protagonist's mother tells him over and over that he should put on his windshield wipers and he keeps telling her it won't work, then finally he does it and she's right.

That is the worst, when your naggy mom is completely right. Everybody can relate to that - I don't care who you are.

So as soon as I put that script down I started thinking about things my mom does that are so very MOMlike, and I started working them into the script. I found myself writing conversations we've had in the past and smiling. Yes, Mom, I am aware that I'm going five miles over the speed limit. No we will not crash and die.

After I finished Salvage I sent it to the Manager, then I sent it to my mom.

Now my mom is different from other moms in that she does not think everything I touch turns to gold. She thinks I'm awesome, but she also thinks my last screenplay had too much sex in it, and she never read my zombie script at all because she just doesn't see the appeal. Explosions really do it for me, but Mom thinks they're unnecessarily destructive.

A compliment in this house must be earned, and that's how you know it means something.

Which is why, when my mom said my comedy is good and that I wrote a cute story, I beamed. Yay! My mom thinks I'm funny.

Stay Tuned

There need to be more hours in the day because there just aren't enough right now. I've been busy as hell the past four days. I haven't written a damn word in Movie Magic, and I keep trying to start writing up my article and get distracted. Plus I keep meaning to do this article on Luc Besson for the Story Department and I'm only halfway through watching the necessary films.

But tomorrow I swear I'm only doing two things: Finishing my first draft of Salvage and writing up my interview with Big Shot Hollywood Screenwriter.

Oh crap I forgot I have a doctor's appointment.

Okay three things. I'm doing three things tomorrow: Finishing my first draft of Salvage, writing up my interview with Big Shot Hollywood Screenwriter, and going to the hand doctor to hear his plans to chop open my hand and move tissue around.

Just who is Big Shot Hollywood Screenwriter? Why, none other than Alex Litvak, half of the team that wrote Predators and Medieval and all around good dude. So tune in Tuesday evening to find out how he feels about Inception, The Three Musketeers and what it's like to be rewritten. Plus some other stuff.

I'm serious this time.

Next on A&E's Obsessed: Keyboard Dusting

The cat and the dog in my house, while both short-haired animals, both shed like a motherfucker. The cat frequently tries to help me come up with ideas by hopping in my lap and blocking the keyboard, I guess so he can type what he thinks is the best line of dialogue. This is why I constantly find pet hair in my keyboard.

And that's where the obsession began. Pet hair in the keyboard.

But do you know lint also gets in there? And sometimes food particles? And every now and then unidentifiable debris?

To deal with this unacceptable phenomenon, I dust. Frequently. Obsessively. You know that canned duster stuff? I'd buy it in bulk, but I'm afraid the cashier at Target would think I am a drug addict.

At the beginning of every writing session I get out my can of duster and my tiny Swiss Army knife tweezers and I clear as much as I can of the pet hair and dander and shit out of my keyboard. Then, every time I'm stumped or I have to think or I'm just stalling, I bust back out the can of duster and blow out any remaining debris, or any debris that has accumulated or reared its ugly head since I started typing. Because sometimes the hairs are tricky. Sometimes they hide under a key and dig in until you blow the compressed air in just the right direction. Tricksey Hobbitses dust particles.

In a way, though, the constant dusting has served as a tool for writing. Instead of stepping away from the computer or getting distracted by the Internet when I should be writing, I stare at my keyboard and think while I dig out tiny hairs. I'm still working even though I'm not technically working.

So I've come to confess that my name is Emily and I have a problem. I am an obsessive keyboard duster. But I can quit any time I want, I swear.

Tomorrow, a promised interview with a big shot Hollywood screenwriter.

In defense of my small DVD collection

On Saturday, a certain someone mocked me for my inferior DVD collection. Yes, compared to most film buffs and industry hopefuls my collection is tiny, and it includes the Beefcake's DVDs so my actual collection is even smaller than it appears to the outside observer. I have 111 movies and 31 seasons of TV, a substantial amount of material for most Americans, but a pathetic grouping for a screenwriter.

The thing is, how often do you watch those movies in your collection? I don't watch many of them very often. About a fourth of my collection is films I bought specifically to show in class - Hamlet, The Outsiders, Life is Beautiful. I have a collection of noir I bought for when I taught the Maltese Falcon and turned it into a noir class - Chinatown, Brick, Memento. I have a few that I know I'll be watching regularly - Pitch Black, Once Upon a Time in China, In Bruges. There are some I keep so I can show them to people who never saw those films - Mating Habits of the Earthbound Human, Osama, The Matrix Reloaded because one of the special features is Justin Timberlake and Sean Williams Scott doing an awesome parody of what was not a very good movie. Some of the films I own because I don't feel right without them - Rocky, Galaxy Quest, Fight Club. Even if I don't often put them in the DVD player, I'm comforted knowing they're around. That's sort of how I feel about my collection of all seasons of Buffy. I don't sit around watching them like I used to, but I'd be distraught if they weren't there.

But I realized some time ago that many of the films I own were impulse purchases that take up space and don't get watched. When's the last time I watched Friday or Snatch or The Last Kiss? I like these films, but I don't throw them in the DVD player ever. I've watched each DVD one time and then set it on the shelf for the duration. When I moved to the new house I took a whole stack of DVDs to Amoeba because I realized I was probably never going to watch them again and I didn't want to have to box them, move them and find room for them on the shelf.

On the other hand, there was some excitement when I opened the Beefcake's DVD box and discovered Terminators 1 and 2, Predator, The Usual Suspects. Movies I love but never got around to buying. The other night one of my friends was baffled as to why I don't have The Professional. Don't get me wrong - I like The Professional. It's a great film. But how many times am I going to watch it?

There are films I like to watch over and over, but there are so many films I've never seen and we only have a limited amount of time on this planet and sometimes I feel like I'd rather watch something new than go back to something I've seen. Still, there's something to be said for rewatching and old favorite. I guess that's why I'm so picky with what I keep around.

Priorities

I've been super busy this week as you may have guessed. It's a big week for seniors and I was on two field trips, plus I gave out yearbooks yesterday. Today there's a whole house cleaning thing going on and tomorrow there's an all-day gathering of people I can't miss. Somehow I have to grade Hamlet essays and finish my coursework for the stupid class I'm taking.

Unfortunately, that means writing gets put on hold. My favorite thing to do must be my last priority on weeks like this. I feel guilty when I don't write, but I'd feel guiltier if I didn't get those essays graded or this house cleaned, because with those things someone else is counting on me. At the moment I have no deadline on my producer's project so it just has to wait.

On the upside I have Monday off so I may be able to get caught up. And we only have three weeks left in the school year and then I have two priorities - cleaning up my office and working on screenplays.

Robbed again

So my house was robbed yesterday. I got home to like eight LAPD officers in my kitchen. Fun times.

We're insured, but they got some really significant things. They knew what they were coming for and they were in and out in five minutes. The side door to my house is smashed and everything was ransacked.

I was in a really good mood when I got the call to come home, too. I was going to make chicken salad for dinner and watch Dead Snow with the Beefcake but that plan went out the door with our stuff.

I don't want to be at work today. I don't want to talk to anyone today. I just want to go lie in bed and cry, but we have to finish the yearbook and most of our work MUST get done today and we have a shitload of work to do. So here I am.

I'm getting an alarm system, a German Shepherd and a bazooka, and I shall carry them with me at all times from now on.

Tone

Someone recently asked me to figure out where I want to go in my career as a writer. If I want to write action, she said, I need to pick a direction. Do I want to write fun, violent, popular stuff or high-brow, sci-fi deep and dark stuff?

I had never thought about this before. I just wrote what I wrote and had fun with it. I want to write fun, popular, high-brow, deep and dark stuff. Can you do that?

All I could do was respond with films I'd like to emulate: In Bruges, Pitch Black, The Terminator. Then I looked at them. They're dark. Dark and deep and violent and surprisingly good. So I said, well, that's it. That's what I want to write.

So I put it to you. Pick a direction for your career. What are the movies you want to write? What is your tone of choice?

I am a slacker

I have been shitty about posting. I wish I could say it was because I've been writing too much to have time for this, but the truth is, there's a heavy bag at our house now and I've been punching it.

I know now what I need to do to fix my script; I just have to stop napping on Saturday and write instead. I've been compiling a list of agents to seduce when I'm done, people who've repped Blacklist writers with similar material, people who've said interesting things in interviews, people whose names I like. I've got a whole strategy planned for phone calls and query letters. Last time I got one read out of about 9 queries, so maybe this time my higher concept idea will net me some more opportunities.

I just have to finish the damn thing.

This weekend. Swear.