Nicholl and Dimed

Didn't make the finals, but got 4 emails today from producers/managers. Not really hopping up and down because none of them knew anything about my script, they were just form letters asking for more info. But still, at least that's four people I can knock out of the "unsolicted" pile.

Say buddy, can you spare a semifinal?

Academy
Nicholl Fellowships in Screenwriting

August 27, 2007

Ms. Rebekah M. McDaniel
PO Box 5219
Santa Monica, CA 90409

Dear Rebekah,

Congratulations! You have advanced into the Semifinal Round of the 2007 Nicholl Fellowships in Screenwriting. In so doing, yours is only one of 108 entries to survive the Quarterfinal Round.

During the Semifinal round, four Academy members, drawn from a variety of branches, will read Kingdom of Daylight. Over the past half dozen years about ten Semifinalists have progressed into the Finals; the number will be similar this year.

Remember: if you become a Finalist, by early October we will ask you to send a short, informal letter telling us about your immediate and future screenwriting plans. If a producer is badgering you to option or sell this or another screenplay, hold off receiving any money for another month or so.

For a list to be forwarded to agents, development executives, managers and producers who request it, we shall use the contact information you have given us. Check the information below to make certain that it is as you want it. If this information is incorrect -- or if earnings have recently made you ineligible -- please change it via your online account or let us know as soon as possible via email to nicholl@oscars.org or fax to 310-247-3794. Over 200 copies of the lists were distributed last year. Lists will be distributed in October.

Good luck in the Semifinals.

Sincerely,

Greg Beal
Nicholl Fellowships in Screenwriting


===================================================================
Well, that's one step further than I ever dreamed of going. Once that list goes out, I feel sure I'll get at least one call. Once again I'm speechless, and grateful to so many people.

Say buddy, can you spare a quarterfinal?

Academy
Nicholl Fellowships in Screenwriting

July 26, 2007

Ms. Rebekah M. McDaniel
PO Box 5219
Santa Monica, CA 90409

Dear Ms. McDaniel,

Congratulations! You have advanced into the Quarterfinal round of the 2007 Nicholl Fellowships in Screenwriting. In so doing, yours is one of only 254 entries to survive the First Round.

With 5,050 scripts entered, the initial round was extremely competitive. To let you know something about the selection process, Kingdom of Daylight was evaluated by three judges drawn from a diverse group of local film professionals. After scores were tallied, the highest scoring scripts advanced to the Quarterfinals.

During the Quarterfinal Round, your script will be read by two judges. As was the case in the First Round, these judges will read the scripts without seeing application forms; they will know nothing about you other than what is on your script's pages. We expect that about half of the Quarterfinal scripts will advance to the Semifinal Round.

For a list that will be forwarded to agents, development executives, managers, and producers who request it, we shall use the contact information that you have given us. Check the information below to make ertain that it is as you want it. If this information is incorrect -- or if earnings have recently made you ineligible -- please let us know as soon as possible via email to nicholl@oscars.org or fax to 310-247-3794. Over 200 copies of the list were distributed last year.

Good luck through the remainder of the competition.

Sincerely,

Greg Beal
Nicholl Fellowships in Screenwriting

===================================================================

I am speechless right now, so I refer you back to my post of April 29.

Chasing rabbits.

"If you chase two rabbits, you will lose them both."

It's an old Native American saying. And right now I seem to be chasing about three rabbits, a badger, and a pack of wolverines. I've overcommitted myself so badly that I am quite literally disappointing everyone. I thought I had clear priorities and knew who I could set aside in favor of whom, but so far it's not working out like I planned. I did the math and it really seemed like I could do everything, but from the looks of things today this may be one of those cases where something may have to give. And if it is, I'm growing increasingly afraid that I'm not going to get to choose. That they're all going to choose to dump me.

Survive the City.

Hey, guys, do me a favor. Survive the City is undergoing an expansion and revamp, and I've become part of the team that's going to bring it to ya (yeah, 'cause I don't have enough projects to work on), so go and sign up for their monthly newsletter! It's all about what to do and how to live in the great city of L.A., and it's also just a neat way to stay on top of one of my projects and see occasional samples of my writing if you're into that sort of thing.

Postscript.

"It will be an excellent way for me to find out if I have what it takes to put in the 60, 70, 80!!! hours that a television writer puts in every week."

Be careful what you wish for. I was just informed by my boss at Yahoo! TV that they're going to need to gradually ramp up my hours over the next few months, culminating in a FRENZY of writing in October that will amount to about 40 hours of work a week. After that I'll go back to my 10 hours a week I believe, but add the autumn writing frenzy to my 20 hour internship and my work with Sheila, and for a couple of months there I may be working something close to TV writer hours!

In other news, I did my first 4 hours for the ghostwriting internship today, and it was exhilarating. The time flew by as though I were having fun, so I guess I was.

Full time.

So, I just signed up for a 20-hour-a-week unpaid internship as a ghostwriter. Add that onto the hours I'm working for Sheila Kelley and the increased hours Yahoo! TV just gave me and for the first time since before my marriage I find myself with a 40-hour work week.

Now, I never did very well with 40-hour work weeks before, but this is different, because I'm not spending 40 hours a week processing mortgage applications or shelving books or answering phones to finance my writing habit. I'm spending 40 hours a week writing, and 20 of it paid well enough to make up for the other 20. In fact, even with only half my hours paid, I'm still making more than I ever made at any of my other 40-hour-a-week gigs. That's not saying a lot, since I've only ever freelanced part-time, and my only full-time gigs were entry-level receptionist crap, but still, how cool is it that I can do what I love 40 hours a week and do as well or better financially than I've ever done?

In addition, my newly demanding schedule will serve as a sort of halfway point to what I want to put myself through later. It will be an excellent way for me to find out if I have what it takes to put in the 60, 70, 80!!! hours that a television writer puts in every week. Stay tuned for reports of my smashing success or dismal failure.

My new mantra.

"Your opinion of me is none of my business."

Heard this earlier in the week and fell in love with it, because it's the exact opposite of the way I've been living my life, but it's the exact way I should be living my life.

Frack.

So as if I haven't had the chance to do enough awesome things lately, last night by virtue of my semi-tenuous connection to Yahoo! TV I got to attend a special Battlestar Galactica event at the Arclight Cinerama Dome. For those of you who haven't watched the show because the title sounds silly or you don't like sci fi...

...watch it.

Anyhoo, the four "big guns" were there - Edward James Olmos, Mary McDonnell, Jamie Bamber and Katee Sackhoff, as were the creators, Ron Moore and David Eick. Lucy Lawless acted as moderator. There was a cocktail party afterward, and fellow writers, this is where you should not take a page from my book... I chickened out and did not speak to Ron or David or any of the show's writers. I literally drew breath to address one of them, but then changed my mind.

Now obviously I wouldn't have been sleazy and tried directly to get myself a job, but it would have been a wonderful opportunity to get some insight into the biz by asking friendly questions, and I blew it!

I blame the fact that my skin had broken out into a constellation of stress-induced blemishes and I was doing my best to hide from the world in general. All the same, it was a fun little outing and I'm going to miss that show when it rides into the sunset.

New picture.

Matt took this photo at Disneyland, at the Pirates premiere. What you see reflected in my sunglasses are throngs of fans. Not my fans, but still. Pretty cool. I swear there was a mile of red carpet at that thing.

Everyone is stupid.

I don't care how smart you are. You're also stupid. I don't just mean, below average. I mean, painfully, mind-bogglingly, your-friends-wouldn't-believe-how stupid. You may just not know at what yet. You notice I say, you don't know yet. I've found mine.

Lately, in an effort to sharpen my somewhat cobwebby mind (quick thinking is a must for a television writer), I bought a couple of "mind training" games for my Nintendo DS (can everyone just notice the good use I'm making of the obscenely excessive free swag I got at the Pirates premiere?). So as I've doggedly worked at these little games every day, I've enjoyed watching my "mental age" slowly decrease from a creaky 48 to a svelte and sexy 24.

And then I met my nemesis: the dreaded slide puzzle. You know, the one with all the squares, and you have to slide them one by one into the empty spot left by the last one, thus rearranging them into the right order? Kind of like a 2-D Rubix Cube? Yeah. Those. I can't do those.

I'm not trying to say I'm slow at them. I'm not trying to say that they're difficult for me. What I'm saying is that I could sit in front of one of those puzzles for FIVE HOURS and be no closer to completing it than when I started. My mind simply cannot gain any traction on the problem. I stare helplessly and scoot things around randomly, as though someone had dumped some Farsi Scrabble letters onto a table in front of me and told me to reassemble them into words. I just sit there pushing them around, pushing them around, hoping that I'll mysteriously stumble upon the correct sequence like the proverbial monkey at the typewriter.

Don't laugh at me. You're stupid too. You just don't know at what yet. And when you find it, I don't care if your IQ is 165, you will come crashing down off your pinnacle of intellectual self-importance as you are forced to accept that the first random person you pick up off the street, at the drive-thru, or rooting around in the dumpster behind your apartment is, at this particular thing, smarter than you are.

In an odd sort of way, I think it's good for the soul.

I am so easy.

Just got back from watching Pirates 3 again, this time at El Capitan. On our way back to the car, there was a guy on the street dressed as Jack Sparrow. Dead ringer, seriously. I did a double take. He saw my double take, and my ear-to-ear grin, and gave a very Sparrowlike shrug, looking me right in the eyes and spreading his hands as if to say, "Here it is, luv... what are you going to do?" I actually flushed a little and couldn't stop giggling all the way to the parking garage.

Keep in mind that the actual Johnny Depp was at Disneyland and didn't do a thing for me. There's something very, very wrong with my brain.

Every day.

At the end of every day, I need to ask myself, "What have I done today to get closer to where I want to be?" And I need to start liking my answers.

Pieces of Eight.

So yesterday I went to Disneyland to attend the World Premiere of Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. We got to ride several rides for free with no lines, free churros and Coke etc. throughout the park, and all in all were made to feel like VIPs. Just wandering around the park (which was closed to everyone but Premiere guests) I saw Cuba Gooding, Jr., Masi Oka, Ashley Scott, Chad Michael Murray, Emma Roberts, Mary McDonnell, and Jon Voight, and then of course at the event itself most of the major cast of the film showed up (minus Kiera Knightley, who I think is filming another movie right now). Hans Zimmer led a wonderful live performance of some of the orchestral score from the film, and I was particularly intrigued by the lovely and emotive first violinist, who wore a large red flower in her long dark hair.

The movie itself was a phenomenon, and I suspect fans of the Pirates franchise will either love it or hate it. To me it seems the logical next step in the progression, as the second was more artistic and less formulaic than the first, with fewer embarrassingly on-the-nose lines in the script. At World's End verged on avant-garde. In particular there is a tremendously long, surreal, dreamlike sequence that does nothing whatsoever to advance the plot, but that had me ecstatically spellbound. You'll know it when you see it (and Johnny Depp fans will probably find themselves spellbound regardless of whether you enjoy the artistic merit of the sequence). But most notably to me as a writer, the script was noticably absent of the clunky lines that littered the first movie and to some extent the second. Even some scenes that simply begged for cliches (a conversation between Will and Elizabeth about trust, for example) were written freshly, sharply, and with a sort of maturity that surprised me in a PG-13 film.

Incidentally, "pieces of eight" refers to the Spanish dollar or eight-real coin, which was often cut into halves, quarters, or eighths and was at one time the most widely used currency in the world. (It's okay, I didn't know that either.)

After the film there were some of the most astonishing fireworks I've ever seen, and then they gave us all goody bags to take home, which included, I kid you not, a portable Nintendo game system.

I'm in love with this town. I'm in love with its excess, its grandeur, its silliness. I know I should be ashamed that I'm receiving free electronics while people are starving, but I'm not, and if that makes me a terrible person, so be it. I can't help but believe strongly that the one doesn't cause the other. I believe that there can be magic and luxury and excess in this world without the necessity of humiliation and misery and degradation for the "have-nots." I believe that the good things of this life should be accessible to everyone, and if it were in my power to make such a world, I would.

I'll see what I can do.

Surreal sight of the day.

Driving up Abbot Kinney Blvd., I saw a decrepit, nappy, four-foot teddy bear sprawled on its back in the road, arms splayed, next to a parallel-parked dump truck. He looked for all the world like an accident victim or a passed-out drunk. The most bizarre part about it was that there was an orange traffic cone directly in front of him as if to say, "Caution: please do not hit bear."

This housewife is getting desperate...

...for a really great spec idea. I have a Housewives script already outlined from last semester, but looking over the outline, well... it doesn't dazzle me. I like the Susan plot, it can stay. The Lynette one could probably work if I jazzed it up some. But I need something truly unforgettable for Gabrielle and Bree to do. Something that will make a jaded Hollywood reader sit up straight in their chair and bark out that little laugh that's half hilarity and half shock.

Someone call me, email me, do something to fire up my foggy brain!

Say buddy, can you spare a Nicholl?

So, now it's time to explain to you guys my plans for my screenplay.

On Monday I'm submitting the newly-revised version to a competition where it will battle thousands of other entries for a chance at the most prestigious award a hitherto unpaid screenwriter can receive: The Nicholl Fellowship. My goal was to write KoD to such a standard that it would reach the quarterfinals (i.e. make the first cut) in this competition. Why not aim higher, you ask? And what's in it for me? I will attempt to answer both those questions.

Why not aim higher?

Let me try and convey the sheer improbability of making it even to the quarterfinals in this competition. There are people who live in L.A. and enter this year after year after year and never get anywhere. I've entered it before myself and never gotten anywhere. Here is why.

Somewhere around 5,000 scripts are entered in this competition each year. All 5,000 of them get read once. If that person likes it, he passes it along to a second random person. If that person likes it, she passes it along to a third random person. If the FIRST THREE RANDOM PEOPLE to read your script like it, then and only then is it ELIGIBLE for the quarterfinal round. If even one person dislikes the script, it's out. Usually less than 20% of the entries make it past three judges. So in our example, let's say 950 out of the 5,000.

What they do next is look at the numeric scores the judges gave the scripts. Yes, they were scoring them. They throw out the lowest of the three scores for each, average the two highest, and pick only the highest scores to be quarterfinalists. In our example, that would be around 250. That's about the top 25% of the ones who made it to three reads in the first place.

So, bottom line, to even make it to the quarterfinals, the judges have to pretty much agree unanimously that your script is in the top 5% of all of this year's entries. As my writing has never made the top 5% of anything in my 31 years of life, I would be insane to assume I could suddenly make it any FURTHER than that.

What's in it for me?

Do the quarterfinalists receive money or prizes? No. So what's in it for me? What's in it for me is that the list of names and phone numbers is distributed to agents, producers, etc. along with a brief synopsis of the story. Quarterfinalists have been known to receive up to a half dozen calls from interested parties regarding their screenplays. In a town where just getting read is 75% of the battle, I can't stress enough how valuable it would be for me to get this kind of industry exposure.

So! When will we know what happens with KoD? End of July. Until then, this particular project is officially "on hiatus."

Finished.

I finally finished the first draft of KoD and have been getting comments back, mostly positive. However, I still feel there's a bit of work to be done before it has a prayer of making the Nicholl quarterfinals.

Next on the agenda, writing-wise: I'd like to finish my Desperate Housewives spec. I need at least one really stellar, outstanding spec in my portfolio to "lead" with, and while my Without a Trace and my Veronica Mars are perfectly readable, neither is the type to generate any buzz. I need to figure out something to do with my Desperate Housewives to give it that "wow factor" the others are missing.

I am a writer.

I am a writer. You know how I know? Because I enjoy writing. The actual process of it. Not the achievement, the monetary reward, or the respect. The actual sitting down and imagining stories and people and figuring out what's going to happen next and making them say things to each other.

Dorothy Parker said, "I hate to write, but I love having written."

I'm sitting staring at page 80 of KoD, knowing there are over 20 pages left to go before I can call myself finished this evening... and loving every minute of it. Sure, it's frustrating when I realize I have no idea what I'm talking about and need to consult yet another reluctant expert. Sure, it's frustrating when I realize that I'm not in the "zone" and my words are coming out wooden and improbable.

But this is what I'd rather be doing than almost anything else I can think of. There's a high that comes from the "Eureka" of two plot points coming together with the soft "snick" of a jigsaw puzzle. There's a rush in coming up with the perfect one-liner. When I realize the perfect way for a character to die, the hair rises on the back of my neck. It's worth the writer's block, the spasms of self-loathing... it's even worth the criticism and the rejection. Because I know that "having written" isn't everything. If my last batch of spaghetti doesn't stick to the wall I can always get another pot boiling.

Because I am a writer.

Today.

Today I broke my tailbone.

Also I got fired.

They both happened in the same building but otherwise are not connected.

A Brief Word About Disappointment.

"If you can make a heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss..."*

Some people get tattoos. Some people brand themselves or pierce sensitive body parts. Me, I periodically set myself up for crushing disappointments.

Of course, it's not like see it that way in advance. I always feel invincible and certain of success when I wholeheartedly throw myself into an endeavor. Occasionally I'm even right - and it's spectacular. There is no high like throwing all your money down on a high-stakes table and WINNING. But most of the time, I'm not so lucky. And when I'm not, it hurts. A lot.

But there's a thing you have to remember. If you're not losing now and then - I mean, if you're not suffering a crushing, humiliating, what-the-hell-made-me-think-I-could-even-step-onto-this-FIELD type defeat now and then - all that means is that you're not in the game.

*from "If," by Rudyard Kipling.

What Mathematics Does on a Saturday Night.

So this Saturday I'm going to see The Farnsworth Invention again. For those who don't minutely follow all the details of the entertainment world, that would be Aaron Sorkin's new play. I saw the premiere last month, and found it intriguing enough to want to watch a second time, but this is the first chance I've had to get a ticket and get back down to La Jolla to see it. All in all it feels more like a really good Discovery Channel special than a theatrical drama, but quirky as it is, it obviously hooked me. I'm a sucker for Sorkin's writing, for many of the same reasons other people find it irritating. I love the ping-pong of erudite wit and wordplay, and hell, I even enjoy it when Sorkin gives up on drama altogether and just climbs up on a soap box and starts ranting. No one rants quite like Sorkin.

But Aaron Sorkin (creator of The West Wing, Sports Night, and Studio 60, as well as writer of A Few Good Men) is important to me for more reasons than just his talent. In him I see everything I could possibly be, despite my own shortcomings and eccentricities. I admire more than his ability to write scripts that make me laugh and stun me and bring tears to my eyes. I admire the sense of cohesion and camaraderie on his sets, and the way he - the most powerful man on set- stops to talk to extras and crew members (often much to their bewilderment). I admire the idealized way in which he views the world, and the way that despite his having in his youth descended into the depths of every imaginable sin, he seems to have come out of his experiences the same boyish, well-meaning innocent who went in. More cautious, perhaps, a dash more guarded and private, but still as sweet and well-meaning and almost heartbreakingly romantic as he was in his late twenties when he was suddenly catapulted into the entertainment stratosphere and all the excesses that came with it.

He's a guy who, given all he went through and how poorly he was prepared for it, could easily have crashed and burned for good. But when I look at him now I don't see the scarred and bitter old man he might well have become, but a serene and still-buoyant showbiz veteran with a job he loves and a little girl who turns his world. Somehow he seems to have left behind most of his adolescent darkness, yet kept his youthful curiosity and sense of adventure. For God's sake, he just agreed to write the script for a musical based on a Flaming Lips album. I am staggered by his audacity at times, and pray that when I'm in my mid-forties I'll be just as willing to step out onto a brand-new ledge.

Slowdown.

So I didn't plow straight through to the end of my first draft the way I'd hoped I would. The fact is, I knew my research was shaky, and I couldn't bear to follow up the (very nice!) first half of my screenplay with a bunch of thin, wobbly, unsure-of-itself writing. I love the authority with which I throw around SWAT jargon in the beginning. I need to feel that solid about the geographical area that is the "star" of the second half of the movie.

I have found some people who may be willing to help me with said research. Some of them I may have to bribe a little. But it will be worth it. If my second half turns out as well as my first half, I feel pretty sure that this is the writing sample that is going to get me a job.

Progress Report.

I am on page 23 out of a projected 100 for the first draft of KoD. Hoping to hit 25 before the night's out. Tomorrow's goal: page 40.

My TV drama instructor seems overall to have very little to say about my Veronica spec. That is, I guess, a good thing. If one can judge by his comments, though, all it really needs is a polish. It's nice to feel like I have at least one more thing I can add into my "portfolio" of writing samples alongside my mediocre Without a Trace spec.

Fear of Success?

So, KoD represents the height of my writing ability at this point in my life. It has the best plot, the best characters, the best structure, and the best backdrop of any story I've yet told, especially in screenplay form. Also the first 13 pages contain some of the best and smoothest dialogue I've written, as well. So... why have I not written page 14?

The last time I worked on this was February 20th. Many a time I have sat down to continue my work, and every time I find some excuse not to work on it. It's not a huge mystery. I know my psychology well enough by now. It's not exactly fear of success; it's more, "This is the best I can do. What if THIS isn't good enough?" I know the answer is, "then you'll have to keep getting better." Lord knows I'm a better writer at 31 than I was at 26, and I was a better writer at 26 than I was at 21, and 16, and 11, and 6... so it stands to reason I'll be even better at 36 than I am now. People don't generally become WORSE writers until AFTER they get successful. So long as I'm still hungry, still frustrated, still aching to prove myself, I should continue to improve.

That's all well and good, both logical and inspirational. And yet, here I am at a quarter to ten, going to bed instead of writing.

If I don't put in FIVE SOLID HOURS of writing tomorrow I am going to have to punish myself SEVERELY.

Small Victory.

I'm not as far along on KoD as I'd like, but I finished my Veronica Mars spec, which now puts me in possession of two "completed" spec scripts. Those who are TV writers (or any kind of writers at all) will understand why "completed" is in quotation marks.

Catch-22.

The problem with having a blog is that when your life becomes interesting enough to write about, you have no time to write about it.

I've just returned from a trip to Mexico and San Diego. I've just met a cool guy (a SWAT officer and online gaming partner) for the first time, though I have "known" him for something like two years now. I've just been among the first people to see Aaron Sorkin's new play The Farnsworth Invention. I've just gotten a 2007 Prius. I've just been asked by my new boss at my receptionist job to do some writing for her. I've just written the first 13 pages of the best thing I've ever written (KoD). My life's been so full and happy and crazy that I don't know where to start, and I certainly don't know when to stop!

So email or call me if you're starving for details.

(P.S. sorry ladies, the SWAT guy is married. With two gorgeous and well-behaved children. [I'd be well-behaved too if my dad was toting a CAR-15 assault rifle into the kitchen. {Moms, breathe - it wasn't loaded!}])

In like a lamb, out like a lion.

They need to come up with a less cliched version of "it never rains but it pours" so that I don't have to keep using that one.

For several months my life had been very quiet and peaceful. Now, in addition to working 20 hours a week for my dream company, I'm now in talks to possibly start a freelance copyediting job for another 10 hours a week, and this is in addition to the 10 hours worth of classes I'm taking, the screenplay I'm supposed to finish within a couple of months, and my (unpaid) responsibilities to an online gaming organization that I started and have been helping to run for three years. Oh and somewhere in there I'm supposed to be learning how to take better care of things around the house, and learn to cook.

Oh and yesterday I didn't have time for a shower - and today it's about 2 degrees and there's no hot water. And my parents are in from Tennessee for the weekend in about 7.5 hours and my apartment looks like a war zone.

I suppose I could just sit down and go "CALGON TAKE ME AWAY!!", but I've come to understand that everything in life is a choice. I choose to believe that I have what it takes to make the most of the opportunities that have fallen into my path. The little things (like cold feet and dirty hair) don't matter. The job was an amazing windfall. The freelance assignment is with people I know and trust. My TV writing teacher this semester is a dynamo, and he stuck me with three of my favorite people from class for my critiquing group.

It seems the winds have shifted in my life, and I like the place they're blowing from. So I guess the only thing to do is just brace myself and keep heading into the gale.

New Year, New Blog, Same Life.

So, the highlights of what Q1 2007 have in store for me:

New Job. I have a new part-time job outside the home, my first time working for someone other than myself in about four years. I didn't expect to get the job, since I don't have anything resembling a resume, but I felt so strongly about it that if I didn't at least try for it I knew I'd kick myself. I guess that passion must have translated well into my interview, because I start on Tuesday. I'm very excited about this company, its mission, its future, and the people who work there.

More classes. It seems I am a perennial student. This quarter I continue to work on my TV Writing Certificate at UCLA Extension, plus I'm taking another online writing class, so that makes three classes altogether in addition to my new job. I'm sure I'll be fine, I just have to stay on top of things.

Writing projects. First up is my feature screenplay, which I'll be referring to as KoD in this blog. Need to get this one done in time to submit for Nicholls. After that it's back to spec scripts to get ready for Disney and WB, but that'll be more like 2nd quarter of this year. If I manage to find the time during first quarter I'd like to finish up my short story (which I'll refer to as "NDA") to enter in the Glimmer Train new writers contest.

That's about all I've got going on right now. Please feel free to drop me an email if you want more details or want to volunteer to critique any of my writing.

Third time's the charm.

So after a couple of abortive attempts at a blog, some dreadful mistakes, and some learning experiences, I've decided to try again. I think I have a better idea now of what blogs are all about, who reads them, and what their boundaries are.

I've decided that anonymity is not for me. Rather than attempt to spill my guts and hope that an anonymous handle will protect me, I've decided that the reverse approach is slightly saner: to make it obvious to whom this blog belongs, but to be more careful about the information that it contains. For those who want more fun gory detail, you can always email me personally. I'm going to try to make my email address available via this blog if I can do so without opening the floodgates to spam. Failing that, you can always try me at (myfirstname) at (mymaidenname) dot net.

I will post soon with my latest news, as there's a great deal of it. First, though, I have to fiddle around with my various blog settings until all is as I'd like it.