Lie to me

My fiction professor used to say that the best lies are the ones with a lot of detail. If you're a really good liar you tell your story with lots of fleshed out images and twists and turns and insistence that it sounds so crazy, it must be true.

As a teenager I was a horrible liar if I had to do it on the spot. But give me a few minutes to come up with something and you'd go to your grave believing I was mugged by an evil clown while I was changing a tire up at Crabtree Valley Mall when I asked him for help because I couldn't find the tire iron, because unbeknownst to me on my model of Jeep it was attached by lugnuts to the engine. But once I figured that out I couldn't unscrew the lugnuts because they were rusted, but it didn't matter anyway because the clown hit me on the skull and made this bump on my head, see? Eventually I got the tire changed, but by that time I was bruised and robbed and very tired, and that's why I missed curfew. So I certainly wasn't out drinking.

It's all in the details. Specific details too. The name of the mall for instance, instead of just "the mall". It makes the story sound more true if you use specific names.

Look at men who cheat. I used to know one. Let's call him "Dad" just for the hell of it. Dad came home one night and his wife locked him out and told him she knew about his affairs. He convinced her to come outside, then grabbed her hand and dragged her to his car, opened the trunk-

And showed her the bouquet of flowers he had been out buying her. She felt like a major bitch. He was hurt and indignant and refused to accept her apology.

Only the thing was, he'd bought those flowers for his girlfriend and was planning on giving them to her the next day.

That's what the great manipulators do. They make you think it was your fault for being fooled by their intricate web of lies.

And deceit. There's also deceit.

And isn't that what we do? We are expert liars. We invent outrageous twists and turns and it's our job to make sure people believe them. We have to sound sincere.

I just got hit by that. A dear - at least, I thought dear until today - friend of mine swore up and down about how honest he was and that he'd never lie to me because it's just not in his nature and he considers me a good friend and blah blah blah. And the whole while he was telling me to trust him he was hiding a big old lie that he was too afraid to tell me because he knew it made him look like an asshole. But all those sincere sounding promises, all those lectures about being open with people and not hiding your true feelings out of fear, it was all crap to cover his own lie. And now that I know he was lying he's an even bigger asshole, but I don't want to confront him about it because he'll just yank out more lies and I'll get all confused and probably believe him because he's an amazing liar.

He should be a writer.

Save the drama for your maternal figure

Actors. Remember how much I love actors?

Sometimes they can be big old babies.

Writing Partner is not so sure about my choice for Lead Actor. He thinks I'm letting my friendship with Lead Actor dictate my choice and that I should have auditioned people before choosing him. I didn't remind Partner of the irony of that statment since I didn't audition anybody before agreeing to let him play the other guy in the room. I have good instincts on this. He should trust them.

I love my friends, but I'm not letting my friendships get in the way of my film career. I'm going to do what's best for the movie.

But Partner is wary. He has this belief that if you work for free you should get along with everybody in the room. He's heard some things about Lead Actor that he doesn't like so now he's convinced they won't get along. So he's going to call Lead Actor and if he doesn't like him, he's out.

Great. As the director of this thing, that's just beautiful to hear. So what happens if he doesn't like his movie girlfriend? What if he doesn't find her attractive enough to kiss? Is he walking off my set the day of shooting?

And he balked at me calling it "my set". It's our set, he says. We're both producing. So I reminded him that it's my apartment and I'm paying for almost everything and I'm the one taking responsibility if it all goes south. MY SET.

He assured me that he would never leave me stranded and can't believe I'd accuse him of such a thing.

So I told Lead Actor, Partner will be calling you. Be nice. Lead Actor was irritated. I'm not fucking auditioning over the phone to this guy. What's his problem?

Good. Now they both think the other is an asshole. So far I've handled this extremely well. I can't wait until they get on set and start punching each other.

Fortunately the characters are pretty antagonistic most of the story. So I told Partner, even if you don't like him, you can use that. Lead Actor certainly thinks so. But no. Life is life. Acting is acting. And he's not flying out here unless he likes everybody.

So I throw up my hands. Maybe after the phone call they'll be enemies and Partner will force me to choose between them. Or maybe they'll be lifelong buddies and this will be the most fun shoot ever. At least they both still like me.

Pillar: The Legend Continues

Scott the Reader has a post today about resources for writing television, and it made me think of something I'm not sure too many people know.

At the last Battlestar Galactica party I talked to two different writers who worked on The Dead Zone. They were both pretty excited to meet somebody who watched it because it's on USA and every year barely keeps enough ratings to keep going. It's based on the Stephen King novel and has already gone way off the reservation on that one, but still keeps the core idea of Johnny the psychic (Anthony Michael Hall) who went into a coma and came out able to see the future when he touches people. Now he must save the world from Sean Patrick Flannery.

Overall it's a pretty good show. It has its weaknesses, but most episodes run a nice balance between self-contained stories and clues that advance the plot at large - kind of like Veronica Mars but lacking just a little of that Veronica / Dad spark.

The show was created by the late Michael Pillar and his son Shawn. As soon as I mentioned Michael Pillar to those two writers their faces lit up. He is universally respected in the TV writing community, especially at a Battlestar party where half the writers there worked with him at some point or another because he was also responsible for most of Star Trek and that's where Ron Moore got his start.

The best thing about Michael Pillar is that he was more open to new writers than any other showrunner out there. In this day when you can't even get something read unless you have an agent, he was willing to help inexperienced writers find a way in. That's how he always found such amazing talent. He didn't treat TV writing like some secret club where only the sexy people get to join.

His legacy continues, thanks to the lessons he taught his son. It's not quite like it was - you can't just email The Dead Zone and send them your script like you once could. But if you go to the website you can still find writer's guidelines for the show, along with full produced scripts and episode treatments available for free download.

Not enough people in the industry watch The Dead Zone, so your spec for this show would probably do you no good as a work sample. But for me, it was my first television spec because the information was so readily available. I read the book, watched every episode of the show up to that point, read several of the scripts and treatments and then wrote my very first television spec on The Dead Zone. Then I showed it to nobody and wrote one for a different show. But thanks to Michael Pillar, I got trained. The industry needs more people like him.

There is no spoon.

It's no secret that I'm an action girl. So for Mystery Man's blog-a-thon script analysis assignment, I chose The Matrix.

This was the first DVD I ever owned and the first script I ever bought and the first poster I ever framed. I wrote two term papers on The Matrix in grad school. I love this movie.

It's a love story and a tale of self-discovery and betrayal and fate with lots of ass-kicking. But you know the story. I'm going to focus on structure.

One of the most difficult tasks in a script like this, and one the sequels failed to do, is to make the vast amounts of necessary exposition interesting. Even though there's so much technical jargon tossed around throughout the script, it never reads like that, except the scene with the woman in the red dress. I found myself dozing off and then Morpheus asks if Neo's listening to his boring speech. Perfect.

Because this script reads like a story. No camera angles. The time of day is only mentioned in the slugline if it's necessary. And the descriptions flow with imagery. For example, the initial description of the Heart O' The City Hotel where we first meet Trinity:

"The hotel was abandoned after fire licked its way across the polyester carpeting, destroying several rooms as it spooled soot up the walls and ceiling, leaving patterns of permanent shadow."

Sometimes the writing borders on too editorial: "The idea of learning one's fate begins to weigh upon Neo with a steadily growing unease." Then again, if you watch the scene - the one where Neo prepares to enter the room where he meets the Oracle - that's exactly the way Keanu Reeves portrayed it.

The Wachowski Brothers clearly come down on the side of "WE" in that argument. It's liberally sprinkled throughout the script. "We see" all kinds of things, but it's not really terribly annoying because in a lot of places it supplants what would have been an "ANGLE ON", and I find those far more annoying than the "we sees".

Then there's this brilliant moment which led to the coolest shot in the film:

"Suddenly Agent Jones stops. He hears a sharp metal click. Immediately he whirls around and turns straight into the muzzle of Trinity's .45-

Jammed tight to his head.

TRINITY
Dodge this."

No camera angle, no we see, because the scene is told from the perspective of Agent Jones, and that's exactly how the shot looks onscreen.

But what really interests me is the action scenes because whenever I write one I always wonder just how much detail to give. One thing the brothers do that's very effective is to hyphenate. They constantly break the action with hyphens and put the next beat in a new paragraph. It keeps the flow going. But as for detail, the script is somewhat inconsistent.

There's this scene where Neo and Trinity break into the Agent headquarters:

"Neo is a blur of motion. In a split second, three guards are dead before they hit the ground."

But then there's this description of Neo's subway battle with Agent Smith:

"A knife-hand opens his forearm, and a kick sends him slamming back against a steel column. Stunned, he ducks just under a punch that crunches into the beam, steel chunks exploding like shrapnel.

Behind him, Neo leaps into the air, delivering a neck-snapping reverse round-house."

I really wish I knew how to deliver a neck-snapping reverse roundhouse.

But I digress.

If you watch that scene in the film that's exactly how it plays out. So I guess the lesson is that if you have a clear view of what you want the fight to look like, write it that way. If you don't, give us a feel for how it should play out in a general sense.

The other major thing that stuck out when I read the script is the use of the word "Shit". Apparently that's the only cussword the machines left for us mortals to use because they use it a lot. Like too much. That's what Neo was supposed to say instead of "Whoa." I wonder if that line would have been parodied as much if he'd kept to the script.

All in all, not much is different from the script, probably because the writer and director are the same. The major stuff that was removed was big chunks of thoughtful exposition, like a three-page self-analysis Morpheus conducts on his struggle to not consider himself a failure. That scene was completely removed and the film is better for it.

Downright brilliant. With ass-kicking. And that makes Emily happy.

Today is recovery day

You know it was a good party when you wake up and find that a piece of cheap furniture has been obliterated and you have a mysterious bruise on your arm and the inside of your thumb.

I woke up this morning still drunk but also with a hangover. I didn't know that was possible.

My cat is a freaking party animal.

I now have eight million gallons of tequila, a couple of bottles of vodka and a case of beer. Swing by my place sometime and watch me turn into Amy Winehouse.

Did you know they make blueberry vodka?

One of my guests confessed he has never seen Star Wars. He was immediately beaten with a light saber as punishment.

I'm not kidding.

School schmool

Know what's crazy? How much people spend on film school.

Every time I bring up my short to people - experienced people - they all tell me the same thing. You don't need to know what you're doing to know what you're doing.

Today I started making preliminary shot lists. I want a shot that comes down a guy's arm and lands on the other guy's face. So I call Partner, who paid for that film school education, and he tells me I want a focus pull. So I write "focus pull down Billy's arm to Eric's face" in the margin next to the scene. And I didn't have to sit in on any classes. I'm so glad I can benefit from his tuition payments.

(Mind you, I'm not at all saying that film school is a waste of time. I spent a good amount of money on learning to write stories and I use that education daily. I just don't think it's the only way to go.)

I don't have a DP yet, but when I get one I'm going to walk in with my notes and go, "Ok, buddy. I want a focus pull here, and a two-shot here..." and everybody will think I know what I'm doing. Because at that point, I will. That's what I'm learning. It's been said before by wiser heads than mine, but you don't have to ask permission to be a film maker. All you need is a great script and some talented people. I have a great script and so far, talented people who want in.

What's also been rewarding about the process so far is that it's lit a fire under Partner's ass. He's been sitting on that fancy NYU education for years sort of bouncing around not choosing a path and lamenting that he spent all that money for nothing. But helping me write and produce this, and eventually act in it, has reminded him of what he loves about making movies. He's started to apply for jobs in the industry again and he's brimming with excitement.

That's my special skill: infectious enthusiasm. Talk to me for five minutes and you'll decide that your wife cheating on you with your best friend and stealing all your money was a GOOD thing.

Icy Hot Emily

I'm too busy to do a real post today.

Instead, I bring you this:




Which inevitably lead to this:




Enjoy.

Updates and reading lists

Last night I boxed a man twice my size. Oh I kicked his ass. Not really. But I did hit him on the chin twice. Fortunately he did not hit me with his full force or I would still be stuck in the wall where I would have landed when I flew out of the ring.

People have been confused about the changes in our short script. Once we explain things they go "Oooh, that's cool!" but they don't get it until we explain it. So we idiot-proofed it and I'm pretty damn sure we have a final draft the people of the world will love. Or at least the Contact who may or may not wish to produce it.

The script requires Lead Actor to eat a large amount of carrots. Turns out, Lead Actor doesn't really like carrots so I'm gonna make sure that particular scene requires a lot of takes. Sometimes you gotta suffer for your art.

Revenge is a dish best served with carrots. He knows why.

I feel confident about our tagline. Game Night: Sex, drugs and a game of Taboo.

A friend of mine is back on speaking terms with his friend, which means we now have a free editor. I already had a free sound engineer and composer. So post is completely taken care of. Now I just need a DP.

Yesterday I found a book that includes step-by-step advice on how to organize your shoot. And forms. Lots of forms. Stuff like a list of duties for crew members, budget worksheets and cast breakdowns. The book comes with a CD ROM that includes all these forms for you to print out and use. It's called The Complete Guide to Making a Movie Low Budget and Beyond by Lorene M. Wales.

I'm also reading Robert Rodriguez' Rebel Without a Crew. My favorite part so far is how he's all worried because he's already 23 and hasn't made his big break film yet.

I love autobiographical books about film making. A lot of the time you can learn way more from just hearing people's stories than reading essays about how stuff is supposed to be done. I started writing screenplays because of Bruce Campbell's book, If Chins Could Kill. Until I read that book I was struggling to finish a bunch of short stories. After I read that book I launched into a crash course in screenplay that lead me to Battlestar Galactica parties and film shoots in my living room.

Hopefully we'll shoot over a weekend in a couple of months. Then I'll invite all you guys to the premiere in somebody's living room. There will be carrots.

At last we meet

The first time we see a character on the paper is supposed to give the reader an immediate impression of who that person is.

This is something I've struggled with over the years. I'm a pretty terse writer and tend to leave character descriptions to a minimum. Writing Partner said I needed to do more. So recently I tried to jazz it up a little, be a little more clever. But Writing Partner said it was too much. So I punched him in the face.

Just kidding. Or am I?

Here's my usual way:

One of the kids, a pretty Latina, walks off the bus with her older brother. Her name is STAR, and his is JOSE.


Ok so that's definitely not enough. I get that. That was written over a year ago. This is how I did it in a short I wrote the other day:

A girl in her early twenties, GWEN, takes a Jello shot. She's pretty but not yet able to see that she's beautiful, charming but a little shy, wearing an outfit that doesn't quite show off her assets the way the other girls do.


A lot more information, obviously. But too much? Clearly it's not all physical details, but it's something the actor could portray.

Somewhere I need to find a balance I suppose.

Thoughts?

...Or he could touch the stars

Because of something Maggie posted I've been thinking about Cervantes lately.

Most people don't realize that Don Quixote was originally a story about how stupid knight-errant tales are and if you read them too much they'll rot your brain. It's basically a big insult to the other writers of his era.

Flash forward a century or so and we see it as a story of one man's dream to have an exciting life instead of succumbing to the boredom of typical old age, which, I suppose, is also what the story is about. It's certainly more meaningful than the "You suck" message Cervantes sends when he has Quixote's relatives name specific real world books and why they're stupid as they burn them.

If you watch a movie version of that it's always "Aww, they shouldn't burn those books" instead of the original, "This book is such crap it deserves to be destroyed."

I find that attitude ironic coming from a writer, but Cervantes was kind of a trouble maker.

I wonder how he'd feel about our modern interpretation of his work?

I know how he'd feel about high school textbooks. He'd most likely burn them with his supersarcasm.

I kept teacher's editions of books I wasn't supposed to so I have many resources available to me at home. The other day I wanted to look up a quote from Don Quixote and I found the section in two textbooks. It's right after the giants turn back into windmills and Quixote is all screwed up and Sancho Panza comes to his aide.

The line in one textbook is this:

"And Sancho Panza came to his aide as quickly as he could."

Oh blech. What a boring line. Way to drain all the fun out of that story, McDougall-Littel. The Glencoe textbook said this:

"Sancho Panza rushed to his assistance as fast as his ass could trot."

Much better, isn't it? He's on a donkey, see? I don't know what it is in Spanish but in English it's pretty amusing. It makes the kids laugh every time. And when the kids laugh, they like the story.

Take the beginning of Romeo and Juliet. Most teachers don't tell them about the dirty jokes because they think it's inappropriate. But as soon as you explain that the boys are making sex puns, the kids are immediately interested. My kids always love the play because I make sure they can relate to it. Other teachers' kids often say it's boring because all they see is an old language they don't understand.

That's why rule number one in my classroom for me and for the kids is "Don't be boring". Always go for the most interesting word or the most surprising observation.

Today's title is inspired by Cyrano de Bergerac (also the name of my cat), when De Guiche refers to Don Quixote and what happens when a man chases windmills and Cyrano responds with his own interpretation.

She eats the lens

Opportunity lightly tapped on my door last night and then ran down the hall and hid around the corner throwing toilet paper rolls at my face.

I wasn't sure I wanted Opportunity. The pay is considerably less, the hours are longer, and it's not exactly the job I always dreamed of, but it's very near the job I always dreamed of and it would shoot me down a very different path from the one I am currently on.

But I don't hate teaching. My boss is amazing, I make good enough money and have decent benefits, I love the kids and I usually get the classes I want. I just signed a lease on a new apartment, so taking a paycut would mean no TV, no kickboxing, and never being able to buy new jeans. And the debt would just keep on growing.

But Opportunity. How can you turn down Opportunity?

Alas, Opportunity is not a sure thing. She could be teasing. Or throwing toilet paper at my face.

And this all could be irrelevant because I'm not even that qualified for Opportunity.

After a day of agonizing and calling friends and getting advice from almost every person I know in LA who's even remotely connected to the industry, I decided I would take door number three.

Your cover letter is like a headshot. A headshot gets an actor in the door. If he doesn't look the part he can't even get into the audition - a topic of much chagrin to Lead Actor who frequently discusses his frustration with being judged on his appearance alone. But if that picture gets him in the room he still has to prove he has the chops to handle the part.

For us we have cover letters. My resume is unimpressive to an industry professional but I got spunk. I'm "feisty" according to delightful people I know. So I made my cover letter my writing sample. And if Opportunity goes to someone else, which it probably will, at the very least I have entertained someone I admire. Maybe he'll remember me down the road and call me in for an even better Opportunity. And if he's appalled at my audacity then he's not as cool as I thought.

As for the line in my title - that's from Up Close and Personal when Robert Redford's character realizes that Michelle Pfeifer's character makes a horrible weather forecaster but looks amazing on camera as something else. I thought it was apropos.

Let us not talk falsely now

So let's talk about pronouns. A pronoun is a replacement for a noun, which is a person, place, thing or idea. People often forget about the idea part, but "victory" is an idea and it's a noun.

Just kidding. Let's talk about Battlestar Galactica. For it is a thing, a place and an idea.

MINOR SPOILER WARNING


When I was in high school and college I was in a rock band and we played The Bob Dylan song "All Along the Watchtower." Personally I always prefered the Dave Matthews version, which starts off really slow and builds to an insane rocked-out finish. So I mimicked that more than any other rendition of the song. I starting out slow and sultry and building to a gruff, violent melody.

So when Colonel Tigh said in the courtroom, "There must be some kind of way out of here," I immediately mumbled "Said the joker to the thief" under my breath.

Oh you clever writers. I thought it was coincidence. I should have known better.

According to Michael Taylor, Ron Moore had that song in mind since the mini series. And according to Mark Verheiden, it was arranged and performed by Bear McCreary. I don't know about any of you guys watching that at home, but it kind of rocked on the big screen with the big stereo. People cheered. It was awesome.

This Battlestar party at the writer's house was not like the last party. I talked to people. Nice people. People with advice about how to make movies and passion for the film industry. People who could provide me with scary opportunities. People I very much enjoyed talking to.

Know what the difference was? Pigtails. Always wear pigtails to a party. Unless you're a boy.

Also M&Ms. Say yes when someone offers you some. Then say something funny.

We're not going to talk about the beer because I am a role model for the youth.

Tomorrow: Why opportunity scares the heebie jeebies out of me.

Unconditional Love

16 blocks to the nearest plot point

I just tried to watch the film 16 Blocks. Normally this is exactly the kind of movie I like - a time limit and a destination and people shooting at you to stop you from getting there. A lost soul who used to be a hero must protect a loser who's trying to put his life back together. That's a script I could have written.

But not this script. The actors are trying so hard and they're so good. And there are some neat cinematographic moments. But the film is simply unwatchable. I turned it off a third of the way through and switched to True Romance.

I know exactly why the film is unwatchable. It's unbelievable. Every character - the dirty cops, the Bruce Willis reluctant hero guy, David "I'll make you think I'm a nice guy but I'm really a big old asshole" Morse - they all instinctively knew where everybody was all the time, but they still couldn't find anybody unless the plot needed it. Like, Mos Def decides to take the Subway. Bruce Willis finds him in the Subway. Then two random goons just happen to be in that very Subway car looking for him. Fortunately even though they were psychic enough to know he'd be on that Subway car at that moment, they weren't quick enough to get off the train when the protagonists did. Lucky break, there.

Then the goons called David "I talk really quietly so that I can earn your trust and betray you later" Morse from the Subway car because they have magic cell phones that work underground.

"They just missed him at the Canal Street Station," Morse says. He looks out the car window pensively. "Where is he?"

Ummm, just a guess but, somewhere near the Canal Street Station?

Plus, they knew where he was going. Why didn't they just station some guys around the courthouse and wait until he got there? They never addressed that, probably because they couldn't figure out an answer.

It's just silly. Lazy and silly. I couldn't keep watching it because it didn't make any sense. These people didn't have to earn anything; things just kept happening right when they needed to.

I'd rather watch Christian Slater shoot people. That I believe.

I would marry Veronica's Dad too.

I was watching this 2003 short film on IFC called "The Vest" that was really well directed by Paul Gutrecht and well edited and features Kellie Waymire who was amazingly beautiful and has worked all over the place on television.

And the protagonist, her daughter, goes into a room to talk to her father, this balding guy with thick glasses who we only saw from the side and I thought, ok. I'm out of this. In what world would that amazingly beautiful woman marry this guy?

And he leaned back and was Enrico Colantoni.

And I had to laugh at myself.

That'll teach me to prejudge people.

Throwing stones at helpless little birds

Stupid Act Two.

My characters have their mission and they now have to go commit burglary. The burglary will be fun. I know how it's going to go down and who's going to do what and the comedic dialogue. I don't know yet what's going to go wrong but I'll figure that out tonight as I sleep.

Unless I dream again about the pet spider I kept last night to help me work the magic invisible typewriter but who bit and poisoned me even though he swore he was my friend, but he was probably just upset because I kept him in a jar of boiling water.

But that's not relevant right now.

I have to get my characters to the burglary in a believable, not boring way and that's hard, mostly because there's no method that Alias hasn't already used. So I'm just going to copy Alias. But the dialogue is dragging and I keep going back and erasing what I had and writing a new scene that I'm not happy with so I go back and erase it and write again and get nowhere.

I got stalled. So before I ended up wasting my day in this crap-writing cycle I put a big yellow note that said, "THIS SCENE SUCKS. FIX IT." And went on to the next scene. And even thought that note is waving at me, daring me to approach it, I know that once I've completed the vomit draft the answer will probably show itself.

But then I was thinking, as the big yellow note continue to taunt me, about the dialogue I had just written and the scene I needed to show and I realized that the answer is right there. The most important rule for making your script tighter: Two birds, one stone.

Although why any asshole would feel joyous about knocking the crap out of two innocent birds with a big rock is beyond me. But that's not relevant right now.

If you can use one scene to accomplish two goals the script is always better off. Sometimes that thought is all it takes to jumpstart your brain. Now I have a nifty little scene that sets up my heist, provides some comedy and a little bit of action, as well as further developing the relationship between my main characters.

Good for you, Act Two.

Emily knows what secrets lurk in the hearts of men

Research. It's interesting. Like, I know how to pick locks now. In theory, anyway. But according to the various instruction manuals I now have on my computer, all you need is an appropriate tool and some practice. So now I know how to become a hitman and pick locks, although I suppose you should probably know how to pick locks anyway if you're going to be a hitman.

If I disappear it's because the FBI came and got me. My only thought will be how pissed I am that I never got to finish the script. I hope Partner will carry on the short film without me.

It's another Battlestar weekend which is very exciting. I have a sneaky suspicion that the few writers for the show who even know I exist think of me as Maggie's Nervous Friend. I have no name that I am aware of, even to the lovely woman who hugs me. I'll bet as soon as I walk away from her she turns to her husband the writer and says, "What the hell is Maggie's Nervous Friend's name?" And he shrugs.

Which lands me square in the position of Show Groupie. I don't want to be a show groupie. I saw Almost Famous. I know what groupies do. I am not down for that.

Know what's annoying? When you're the lead singer in a band but people who haven't seen you play yet keep asking you who's girlfriend you are.

But maybe Anonymity isn't such a bad thing. Right now I'm mysterious. I can sit quietly in the corner and sip on a drink and be anybody. Like The Shadow. As soon as I start talking they might find out that I have a subscription to Astonishing X-Men and two light sabers in my closet. Of course, at a Battlestar Galactica party that would probably get me surrounded Scarlet O'Hara style by the many boys that will appear from out of nowhere as soon as they hear a feminine voice utter the words "I just wanted Amidala and Anakin to joke more, like Han and Leia, you know?" I hope they bring me cake.


I should try that. Then I can go from being Maggie's Nervous Friend to being Maggie's Dorky Friend.

Or maybe I should just bring cards and talk to people about my short. Or teaching. People like to hear about teaching. I should just walk up to random writers and say "I'm Emily and I teach in South Central," like I did when I was four except not so much about teaching as about how old I was. What happened to me? I used to be that obnoxious kid who introduced myself to everybody in the restaurant.

I have this one plan that usually works, though. Stand alone in a really visible place and sip on a drink, looking pretty and like you're observing the people around you. It's kind of like waiting on the sidelines at a school dance. Eventually somebody will approach you. And if they don't you can just start doing cartwheels.

The pages must flow like water

Tuesday when I got done writing I felt a sense of delight because I wrote a funny sex scene. Yesterday I had to write a scene in which my sociopathic Hitman pins Protagonist down and threatens him with a knife as he makes an extremely creepy deal.

That left me kind of terrified. I creeped myself out with my own personal attack on myself in my head.

Isn't that the neatest thing about writing? You get to be all the parts in your brain, so when one character attacks another you get to be both the attacked and the attacker and that leaves a very turmoil-filled self. It doesn't help that I was envisioning this attack taking place in my own bedroom. Last night when I went to sleep I used the chain to make the door extra-locked in case a hitman came looking for me.

Well, I couldn't end things feeling like that so I wrote another scene. And that scene's dialogue was kind of flat so I made a note to come back and punch it up and wrote another scene. And before you know it I had ten more pages and felt pretty good because at this point my boys and I had come up with a plan for how to deal with Hitman. Today I have to break off writing to do some research, but I still hope to get a few pages in later.

300 Spartans walk into a mountain pass...

In reality 1,300 Greeks stood up against the Persians. Three hundred of them were Spartans, but there was a whole slew of guys backing them up.

But that's not as exciting as 300 ripply-muscled guys with no shirts on fighting Orcs at the edge of a cliff. And since there are ugly-ass hunchbacks and a king who might be possessed by a Gua'uld and an execution monster with swords for hands I'm not going to quibble about accuracy.

I do want to go live in ancient Persia, though. Aside from the constant whipping that place looks like a fairy tale land of freaky sex parties. I'd insist on riding around on the giant rhino, stabbing people who get in my way with his gold-plated horn.

So that movie was pretty awesome. Dominic West is an asshole, the king of Sparta is apparently a Scott, and Spartan women are pretty much as badass as their husbands. Or at least that one chick was. We didn't really meet any Spartan women who weren't the queen.

Speaking of that, apparently Sparta is cold because there were some very taught nipples on all the ladies in this film. I guess that makes sense since all the Spartan dudes had perfect abs. The girls were dressed to match.

The story is based on a real battle between Xerxes of Persia and warriors of Greece, when 300 Spartan warriors (and the 1,000 other Greeks we're going to pretend were big cowards and ran away, which I'm sure they appreciate as they watch this film down there in Hades) held a last stand against the huge waves of men that surrounded them on both sides. It's a great story and it's pretty well told here, especially with the neat graininess that captures the mystical feel of the story.

The story has its weak points. Melodrama for one. I think I really freaked out the Grove patrons when I came out of the theater narrating our journey to the car in my most manly and boisterous voice in immitation of the storyteller with on eye. I imagined that guy getting dinner from his wife: "Woman! I need a glorious sandwich made with bread and glorious cheeses and perhaps some meat from the cow I butchered most gloriously this glorious morning! Then I shall eat of the glorious flesh and it shall be remembered in all its glory!"

Stuff like that.

But violence - oh, the glorious violence. There was a lot of it. And sex. There wasn't much subtlety in this film. This is a film for manly men - or girls like me who have a lot of aggression. Or people who like violence in general. And Dominic West. I love Dominic West. I've never seen him be an asshole before.

I also think from now on I'll keep a CD player beside me when I teach so that when I give rousing speeches I can have inspiration music play in the background. Because everybody loves a little melodrama.

Emily has Issues: Part Two

Ok so I admit it. I've been having a pity party.

It's the vacation's fault. I haven't been off work in a year. In that year I also worked constantly on a heap of side projects, many of which did not come to fruition. In that year I broke off an engagement and moved and did some major soul searching and realized some things about myself I never knew before. And I spent my Christmas break hosting my parents, so that didn't really count as a vacation.

I got used to having eight million things to do and no time in which to do it. And now I have less to do and more time. And time to think. And wow, I went through a lot this year. And for the past two weeks it's been catching up with me until it culminated in this weekend.

And today I was all lying in the dark listening to the Cure and throwing my pity party with the cat and I looked at my laptop and said, "Write, Emily. Don't be a hypocrite."

And I looked at the laptop and I looked at the cat and the cat washed his foot and I started typing.

And you know? I love writing. It makes the whole world better. I wrote a sex scene and some comedy and had an all-around good time sitting in my apartment while the cat continued to bathe. And I upgraded the music to Jump, Little Children because it's just a little more fun.

You know what else I love? Trainer. He's a doll. I tell him everything, so he took my pity party ammunition and used it to yell at me so I'd kick harder. And I nearly kicked him across the room. You get to yell really loud when you kick Trainer and he just laughs with his uber-hot smile and his constant adorable need for hair-style approval.

Ahh, Trainer. You are the hottest guy I know.

So anyway, no more pity party here. Tomorrow I do work. I'm gong to write the crap out of that screenplay, dammit.

In the meantime I'm going to go see 300 tonight because Trainer said it was awesome as he acted out parts and yelled at me about Sparta.

Ahh, Trainer. Seriously. Your girlfriend had better be nice to you.

I saw Poseidon today, so I will use both films in some capacity to talk about what makes a good action flick. And this will, from now on, be a whine-free zone.