Fear of Rejection

Let me preface this by writing that I'm not depressed, merely contemplative.

I think rejection is my greatest fear. That's probably very universal so I don't think I'm unique or about to unleash any insights that were never before realized. To the contrary, I am only putting these things out there in order to hopefully excise them from my own psyche, even if only slight.

I have probably missed more opportunities because of the fear of being rejected than from actual rejection; from not asking that girl to the ninth grade dance to not pitching that person a project. When I put this fact in writing, it seems pretty sad—but I bet I'm not the only person by a long stretch.

Of course, actual rejection isn't so hot either. And when you create something and hand it off in a mercantile exchange, art and commerce can be tricky and cruel bedfellows. About rejection in writing, I read an excellent blog, which sums things up pretty well.

I am in an unknown point right now in many aspects of my life. I suppose we really all are, though we might fool ourselves with plans. Fact is you never really know what's going to happen next, do you? In my life currently, I face potential rejection from all sides; I certainly don't know what's going to happen next about a whole lot.

The "article" (I put that in quotes now because it has become an entity unto itself) has not pleased the powers that be. I don't know if it means that it has been killed or not. I hope not. It represents a lot of work and more importantly, I believe it is good; insightful, interesting people putting forth their ideas on the topic. However, the decision is not mine. At this point, I'm simply wondering aloud. I've already been quite demoralized by the email flurry over the last several days and am fully prepared for a final thumbs down. It would be a nice bit of icing on top of everything else in my life, but that is what it is. Que sera sera, and all.

Now, onto other things/. I have a list of projects I must get through and time is only moving forward.
And that reminds me of lyrics from a They Might Be Giants song: Genius in their simplicity, I am envious not to have their wit. Even without the clock-like melody or the Iron Hammer 'DUN DUN' of the guitar -- "TIME (DUN DUN) is marching on (DUN DUN) --- I think the brilliance shines through of Older.

You're older than you've ever been.
And now you're even older.
And now you're even older.
And now you're even older.

You're older than you've ever been.
And now you're even older.
And now you're older still.

TIME! Is marching on.
And time.. is still marching on.
This day will soon be at an end and now it's even sooner.
And now it's even sooner.
And now it's even sooner.
This day will soon be at an end and now it's even sooner.
And now it's even sooner.
And now it's sooner still.

You're older than you've ever been.
And now you're even older.
And now you're even older.
And now you're even older.

You're older than you've ever been.
And now you're even older.
And now you're older still.

One last story for the entry: A couple days ago as I was stuffing yard trimmings in the trash, I heard the sounds of "Dammi i colori!" start playing from a neighbor's yard. Probably my favorite aria in the world (Act 1 Tosca), my heart lurched, my eyes filled with tears and I stopped in mid yard-trimming-stuffing. I was filled with the emotion of the aria -- it set off everything from the last several months. But more than anything, I was absolutely thrilled that someone in my neighborhood was listening to opera. The music went on to another aria; a greatest hits type collection. I was absolutely ecstatic. The world is good, there is hope!
Finally, under the guise of perhaps borrowing their trash can as mine was full, I had to go to the neighbor – to tell them how wonderful it was to hear my favorite aria, to share in the beauty of it.
I went to the house, the music growing louder as I approached -- and finally stood at the front porch. The house was locked tight, no one was home. But on the patio, baking in the sun, a large portable CD/Tuner player was blasting the music.

Evidently a timer had kicked on and was playing the CD for no one - but me.

The Art of Movie Trailers

My brother asked me some advice regarding movie trailers. He has something in mind for a project and wants to mimic a trailer. It got me to thinking that it might make for a fun blog entry.

For the slim possibility that there is actually a person that doesn't know what a trailer is… it's the "coming attraction" previews of a movie. I have a friend that complains about them—saying that they give away everything in a movie. He refuses to watch them. I, on the other hand, love to watch movie trailers. They make me giggle with excitement, make me feel like a little kid, or groan with despair, frequently saving me the thirteen bucks or whatever it costs to go see a movie nowadays. That's because, my friend is right; most trailers do give away pretty much everything in the movie. They can save me a lot of agony.

And, as everyone knows, most are actually better than the movie.

The movie trailer has come a long way, and has really ramped up as an art form in the last fifteen to twenty years. Once upon a time, they were a hodge podge of the best moments of a film. Many were cut from an actual print, so the sound would cut miserably and jarringly. There was little attempt to put something together that was smooth, that flowed – or even captured the spirit of the movie.

It's amazing to watch old trailers and see how bad they actually were. I won't even bother going any further back in time than the early 80's to illustrate the point.

With a new Indiana Jones movie about to be let loose, the Indiana Jones website is an excellent trip down memory lane as well as a fascinating study in the evolution of trailers. What's really amazing is to see how bad the first Raiders of the Lost Ark trailer is. I remember it too—seeing it on television. The theatrical trailer for Raiders is a bit better. A bit. What is interesting about it, is that it still has a 1970's sensibility; it leads you to believe that Raiders might be a serious, dark movie—perhaps a thriller. There is actually very little hinting at how much fun it will be. The trailer for the theatrical re-release a couple years later specifically reminds the audience "THIS IS A FUN MOVIE!!!"

However, these trailers are all very primitive by modern standards. Oddly, the new Indiana Jones trailer is NOT to be viewed as an example of a good trailer. It's quite poor. I don't know why but I'm hoping it's because Steve and George aren't too concerned. They know the movie will be a monster hit even if they just showed a still of the title for two minutes and thirty seconds.

So, for filmmakers, this might be of use and for the general public, it might be of interest. Here is what the modern movie trailer has evolved to: Generally they are about two and a half minutes long and consist of five acts. They may or may not have voice over, and they may or may not have flashy title cards helping to move the plot along.

The best trailers don't need a voiceover or title cards. These are crutches, but are such standard practice, that no one really criticizes them much.

Watch almost any trailer these days and you'll see how the five act breakdown works. This is not to be confused with the five act structure commonly used by Shakespeare. It is a structure unto itself; basically a classic three act structure with a tease-in and a tease-out.

1. A teaser lead in.
   
   1. Very brief, sometimes over the production/distribution company logo, sometimes audio only. Sometimes just a few seconds long. It could be from any point in the movie.
      
2. 1^st act of the story. This is where, if there's a voice (usually Don LaFontaine) it will say, "In a world" or… "When John Doe thought he knew…"
   
   1. The movie is set up.
      
3. 2^nd act of the story. In a trailer, this is where the problem that will be the premise of the movie is detailed. Not dissimilar from the typical three act structure.
   
4. 3^rd act of the story. This is where, if Don has been saying things he now says, "Now, he has to…" The solution being something like save the world, get the girl, or something. (it might actually incorporate a lot of the actual 2^nd act of the movie)
   
5. A brief lead out.
   
   1. Sometimes this is after the title card. It could be very quick – just a couple frames, or it could be a few seconds long. If it's a horror movie, something horrible happens. If it's a comedy, a punchline that was set up a little earlier will be delivered. It could be from any point in the movie.
      

Boom. Done. Now go see the movie.

When I started cutting trailers for my own movies, I studied countless trailers. While cutting the Ghosts of Edendale trailer I was most impressed by the trailer for The Others. I think it's a masterpiece as trailers go. Damn fine movie too. Watch both and you'll see they're five acts.

For trailers of this coming summer, here are a comedy, Tropic Thunder, and an action movie, Dark Knight. Both perfectly made, both two and a half minutes, both five acts.

So, there you have it. Check it out. See if you can spot the five acts in a movie trailer.

Enjoy.

Walking around the symbolism

I got word from the editor last Friday about the article. Our phone call started with a little chit chat, which is generally a "not all is completely bad" sign. She then got into her comments about the article and said, "It had a lot of good stuff, but…"

Long and the short is that I've had to do more work on it. They say that writing is re-writing. They are right but, ugh, this is tough. Whether it's with screenplays or magazine articles, pulling one paragraph or shifting a thought tends to make the whole thing crumble like a house of cards. It's so easy to make, what seem to be, minor critiques... but often damn hard to put them into practice. Additionally, she wanted me to interview a couple more people; interviews I wasn't able
to get until today (they are very busy people), so now I'm sitting in front of the computer at 10:00 PM, a fresh pot of coffee. Déjà vu.

Several blogs ago, I wrote about the dangers of seeing symbolism in the world. It is one thing for the "dead crows lying on the ground" to mean something in a book or movie, in real life they're just birds that met their maker.

Today, I had a moment which I must share; a perfect example of seeing symbolism in life.

At the request of the one person who has the power to have such requests be honored, I am not going to blog about certain aspects of my personal life in too much detail.
Suffice to say, the following observation accurately mirrored/s my feelings over the last months.

Three months ago, to the day, as regular readers will know, a very dark and distressing time began for me. In an attempt to preserve my sanity, I began exercising feverishly. Part of my regimen has involved walking/jogging around Silver Lake.

For those that don't live in Los Angeles, Silver "Lake" is actually a man-made reservoir in the center of Los Angeles and what gave the neighborhood its name.

For the last months, they've been draining it. The first time in twenty years, it was because of a high level of Bromides. What was a typically lovely landmark, day by day, became an increasingly large, surreal, white clay pit. As the water level continued to drop, the symbolism of it always struck me; a perfect metaphor to my emotional state. A couple months ago, the once beautiful reservoir was finally empty; for how long, I knew not...

Silver Lake - Empty March 22, 2008

Anyway...

Today as I went for my walk/jog what do I see? Silver Lake is being refilled!




View on May 13, 2008

Already a large area of the reservoir floor was under water. It's going to take about three or four weeks before Silver Lake is once again full of water; back to its happy state.

As I stared at the water cascading out of the large pipes in one of the towers, I couldn't contain what I'm sure must have been one goofy smile. Because the very good news is, if things go the way I believe and hope(!) they are… Silver Lake is still be mirroring my life.

And if it's not, you can be sure I'm using this symbolism in a screenplay, where it damn well will mean what I want it to mean.

Odds and Ends

'The article' has been sent! Fingers crossed, the editor won't tear it to shreds and email the shreds back for changes, or worse, pay me a 15% kill fee. That would be humiliating. Typically, I would celebrate the completion of something like this -- but no time, I've had to jump right into another writing thing with a deadline of -- tomorrow. Eesh!

Maybe after it is sent off, I'll see if I can't bug a friend to join me in a little self-congratulatory something or other.

Why I'm procrastinating now with a blog entry is beyond me.

However, just so you don't think that all I do is write...

A couple weeks ago I went to the Getty Villa. Going there had been one of about a million things I've been wanting and planning to do, since moving to Los Angeles seven years ago.

Needing nothing more than a free ticket, ordered a couple weeks in advance, it is a really wonderful place; easy to get to and once you leave the parking garage, it's as if you've gone to Italy.
Walking around this "villa", (actually a nice sized museum) I couldn't help but think… Oh, to have been a robber-baron.

So, if you live in Los Angeles and have the urge to do something that is:

A. Inexpensive (8 bucks for parking)
B. Out of the ordinary.
C. Culturally stimulating.
D. As if going on a European vacation.

I highly recommend it.


At the Getty Villa. Not trying to look cool... I was being blinded by the sun.

Afterwards, drive up the PCH a bit and have a drink and burger at Dukes (in the barefoot bar), or go a little further to Malibu Seafood and have the best fish tacos around. I promise you won't be disappointed.

Lately, the aerobic part of my workout routine has been made bearable by listening to a lot of Perez Prado. My in-place jogging and jumping jacks tend to devolve into goofy interpretations of Mambo dancing (all the window shades are very tightly during these moments). Even as I laugh at myself (hey, at least it gets the heart rate going), I've also been recalling another thing that has been on that 'list-o-things to do' since moving to L.A.

So, a couple nights ago, I found myself googling around… and I think (if I can get up the nerve), I will soon go for it: Finally learning how to dance – properly.
Considering how long I've loved Rockabilly music, it's pathetic I've never learned to Swing dance properly. Yes, I know that's so- retro-ten years-ago. More than swing dancing though, and maybe this is my ancestral blood (I'm half Cuban), I'm thinking Mambo, Salsa, Tango (yeah, right)…

I will report fully on how this progresses. Don't expect to see an update instantly. I do need to earn more money first. Dance lessons aren't cheap.

In the meantime, if you haven't seen the original JAPANESE version of Shall We Dance, go to Netflix or wherever you get your videos and order it NOW!. Not the American remake, the original Japanese version. Trust me, you won't be disappointed.

And finally, here's a Perez Prado clip to put a smile on your face.
It's a hybrid of Swing and Mambo. Maybe that will be the next retro-rage. If so, sign me up.

Check out the cutaways to the disapproving old folks.

I am living the dream

I'm at the end of a fifteen hour marathon of writing and have nearly finished a draft of "the article". It's close enough that I've sent it to a friend to read. I need a sympathetic soul to give me notes before I send it to the editor. I know parts of it are still a mess but I'm hoping my friend doesn't think it's too far off the mark. Tomorrow, I intend to (must) finish it and then, with a quick nod to the 'approval gods', send it to the editor—who is one tough cookie...but very good. I had been concerned about hitting the word mark for which I was contracted, but I'm about a thousand over-and still adding. Funny how that happens…

So why the heck am I writing a blog entry after a marathon day of "jobber writing?" Because this afternoon at 1:21 (I know this because I noted it), I had 'one of those moments' and I felt I just had to share. We're lucky if we realize these moments as they're happening, rather than long afterwards. In fact, I think it's incredibly rare to realize them in real time.

It was a moment of complete and utter happiness.

Sounds corny, I know, but think about it: How often do you feel completely and utterly happy in an ordinary day, doing an ordinary thing?
For myself, I've generally thought back on times… days, weeks, even entire years, and realized, "those were good. I was happy." Or—"those times were miserable."

Obviously, you realize you're happy when you have a FULLY OVERLOADED MOMENT OF ULTRA HAPPINESS!!!; seeing a loved one you haven't seen in a long time, a holiday or a vacation to a strange and wondrous land. What I'm talking about is absolute happiness while doing a very average thing on a very average day. If you do experience this frequently, you are very lucky.

So…my moment of complete and utter happiness that happened at 1:21pm: As I was walking back to my desk with a fresh cup of coffee, to sit down in front of my computer and continue writing, it struck me fully that… It was a beautiful day, the coffee smelled incredible and I was about to sit down in front of my computer to continue writing! There you have it—an average moment in an average day of my life. I wasn't being paid a million dollars to scribe a blockbuster. I wasn't having an incredibly inspired jag of writing, nothing out of the ordinary. But I had a moment of absolute 'thrill'. For that instant, I felt… "YES!"

Silly? Well, okay.

Keep in mind that I write constantly. It can be drudgery and it can feel incredibly unfulfilling. That's why I reveled in that moment; savored it and now, share it.

I think happiness is kind of like being healthy. You don't really think about it until something hurts or you don't feel well. It was nice that it occurred to me that I felt good, that I was happy.

I suppose life is a series of these moments interspersed with all sorts of other moments. You hop and skip from one to the next, hopefully not getting stuck on a bad one for too long. I think a lot of us (at least I speak for myself) are so busy hopping that we don't have a chance to experience the minor moments in real time.

There you have it.

Perhaps I'm just loopy from having been in front of this computer all day, every day for the last month on this one story. But I did have that moment.

Passion for the business

I have concluded all but one interview and continue to try to tame this beast, now due in a mere two days. It's far from beaten and I have to now fight through "the wall" that any marathon runner can describe; no time for relaxing or "calling it a day." It doesn't matter what the gentle breeze pushing the front window curtains or the deepening shade of sky are telling me. The cat is fed and contentedly splayed out on one of the dining room chairs, while the sounds of the neighbors happily playing dominos and chatting in Spanish wafts in from a side window. For me though, the work must continue. This is but a small break.

In interviewing all the wonderful (with the exception of one) people for this article, it's been refreshing and dare I say, renewing, to keep happening upon one similarity. Passion. Tremendous passion for what they do.

Therein is the secret of this business. Though some are paid very well, these writers and directors aren't doing it for the money. They're doing it for the love, the passion.

While each person has spoken of the difficulties of surviving in the entertainment business (some having the benefit of speaking with hindsight), they all talked foremost about the love and passion they have for what they do.

Without fail, they would make movies, no matter what. Every one of the success stories I heard was prefaced by years of sleeping on floors and doing whatever it took to survive—while writing, writing, writing. The "breakout", the successful moment, invariably was due to making their own fortune; to writing or taking a job when there seemed to be no reason to, or scant reason at best. As was well said by one person, every opportunity is a good opportunity.

This (and some talent and some luck) is what has differentiated these people from the countless numbers strewn on the road to "success". They did it for the love, not the money. They did it because they HAD to. It's a good reminder for people starting out. Do it because you're absolutely passionate about it. If you're not passionate, if you're skeptical in any way, don't try to do it professionally. Make it a hobby. And in this day and age of digital filmmaking, that's entirely possible.

The happiest times I've had as a "filmmaker" were when I was thirteen years old, running around my backyard with my brother and friends, making movies on a bulky camcorder and portable VCR. Though I drove my brother and my friends crazy, the excitement of doing it was like nothing I'd ever experienced. Over the years, it has sometimes been easy to forget the purity of that thrill. Money, organization, cynicism; the "business" of show, can do that. There are people in this business that, like vampires sucking the blood from the throats of babies, will take your passion if you're not blindly driven.

In talking to the writers and directors of the past couple weeks, I've been reminded again of that child's passion. Not that I ever lost it, but being surrounded by like-driven people was a good recharge; a good reminder that the glass is half full. Hell—there's a glass of water actually there and I get to hold it!

Every time I tap the "FADE IN:" shortcut keys when I begin a new screenplay, I get a thrill. I visualize that fade in on a big screen in a dark theater. I imagine settling into the seat, the smell of buttered popcorn in the air.
I remember the first time I was able to 'fade up" in a movie I made back in those childhood days. It was an establishing shot of an airplane that had crash landed on a desert island. In reality it was a small plastic model in the dirt and a passing ant gave away any semblance of realism. Still, it was the fade up—the ability to use that cinematic language—that made me tremble with delight; a delight that I've never lost but in these past weeks was reminded of once again.

Beyond any caricature on “Entourage”

The interviews continue. Everyone I've spoken with has been great—really generous with their answers, thoughtful and offering interesting opinions.

But there's always one. And today I got that one… and it was especially disheartening.

See, the people I've chosen to interview, the writers, directors, actors, producers, managers – have all been people I felt would lend a good voice to the story. It hasn't been a random selection.

At the same time, I've been going after people that I've wanted to talk to for some time, anyway. From past experience, I've learned that speaking with people in an "interview setting", especially for a well-regarded magazine, is a really great way to develop relationships and friendships; some of which might be valuable down the line with a project, perhaps. I myself have become fast friends with some of the journalists that have interviewed me in the past.

Anyway, today was the day to interview a producer for whom I've had really, really high hopes. This is a guy that I've wanted to get my project to for a long time. Of all the interviews, he was, for me and my ulterior motives, the whale. Foremost though, I felt he could lend some interesting insights from the pinnacle of the producing world. I had just finished doing a great interview with a New York director and now, with great anticipation and heart beating slightly faster than usual, I called Mr. A List Hollywood Producer.

The conversation, if I could call it that, was the most disagreeable conversation I've had with anyone in Hollywood. In fact, it was the most disagreeable conversation I've had in any professional setting. EVER!

As far as I could see, there was no reason for it either. These were not prickly or accusatory questions; they were questions simply asking an opinion of something. They were the same questions I've been asking everyone else; the same questions that have been eliciting interesting and spirited answers.

This guy was a PRICK! (Excuse the word). After 25 minutes, I concluded the "interview" (torture session would be more accurate) and hung up the phone.

I just sat there for about ten minutes, stunned. This was the guy for whom I had been holding out all this hope? Was it me? Am I an idiot asking bad questions? Shell-shocked, I googled his name and a couple choice words for "not nice" and found no shortage of stories about him and the kind of 'human being' he is. A slight relief, though it didn't lessen the deep disappointment any.

Minutes later, still regaining my composure, I spoke with a manager for one of the largest and most important management firms in entertainment. I told him briefly about what had happened and he laughed. He confirmed that the guy was a legendary, um, person -- and was happy never to have had to deal with him.

Still, it was a hugely disillusioning because there is no way in hell I would want to work with this guy. The one incredibly brief answer he did give removed any drop of joy from the filmmaking process whatsoever. Life is too short to subject oneself to that misery. I'd rather eat glass.

So, scrape, scrape, scrape… I continue to dig at the wall.

Staying Focused on the Writing

I am finally immersed in the article that I'm writing for Fade In Magazine. None too soon too as it is due next week. This article is a deceptively difficult one because the topic is fairly narrow; there are a finite amount of ways to explore the subject matter. What's more, the general consensus of everyone that I'm interviewing is the same. There are no real 'good guys' or 'bad guys'. There's not much conflict. It is a philosophical story, more than anything else. Contractually, I must stay vague on the actual subject matter until it hits the newsstands.

It has been interesting to interview good, smart and well known people from the movie and television industry. Their range, career wise, has been enormous. It's exciting when you get to have in depth conversations with people you've admired from afar for years. Now, I must shape these interviews and my thoughts about the subject into something coherent and interesting.

As I write, my stomach is aching. It's not the writing job ahead of me or something I ate. It's a "good" ache.

Recently mid-life concerns about career, future, relationship, mortality, children and money have bulldozed their way to the front of my life, pushing everything in their path to the side. Distracting and unnerving, the angst has caused significant changes in my thought patterns, emotional patterns… and physical patterns; no choice in the matter for me. As was beautifully stated on Deadwood, "Change ain't lookin' for friends." The good news is that these changes are for the better; sometimes the computer needs to be reset.

Due to the "relationship-woes" diet, I've lost a dramatic amount of weight in the last three months. Rather than turn into a pathetic sack of skin and bones, wallowing in misery, I decided not to waste this opportunity and thus -- took it upon myself to begin a serious exercise regime. In addition to being good for my physical health, it saved my sanity. While I've never been "fat", I've have been overweight by several (okay, fifteen or twenty) pounds in the last years. Sitting in front of the computer endlessly, working at home and great meals with wine will do that after a while.

With a speedy return to my college weight, I decided -- once in my life, just once—even if it's only for a couple months, I'm going to try and get those "six pack abs" the commercials on late night television keep telling me women love.
Haha.
Am I insane? Am I vain?
Am I so deeply in the midst of a crisis that the next thing will be a convertible and a hot blonde?

No. I don't think so. It's just a "what the hell" kind of goal. Just so that I can say I did it. And like I already mentioned, the exercise is good for the soul.

Since I won't go so far as to actually join a gym, my workouts have been relegated to lifting weights at home, climbing the hundreds of stairs in the Silver Lake hills, jogging around Silver Lake itself—as well as the usual sit-ups, push ups, etc.

Today, after googling "six pack abs", I began a new stomach workout that requires nothing more than my couch; the perfect price. Here's the video.

That is why my stomach is aching.

Wish me luck, laugh at me or shake your head ruefully. Just don't ask me to post pictures.

Oh, and if I do get a convertible, I promise it won't be a Triumph Spitfire. I learned that lesson the last time I weighed what I weigh now.

Now back to what I should be doing—staying focused on the writing.

Next up -- SAG

My interviews have begun for the article I'm writing for Fade In Magazine. I have many more to do and so far, the task still has a daunting quality to it. Tomorrow morning (why aren't I sleeping now?) I'm going to the La Brea Tar Pits, where a rally will be taking place: "Hollywood to the Docks." Tomorrow is the beginning of the SAG (Screen Actor's Guild) negotiations. Hopefully the negotiations will go quickly and smoothly as these contracts, more than the Writer's Guild strike, are what screwed me up at the beginning of this year with my new movie (The movie, which requires expensive SAG actors, would not be bonded by insurance companies, nervous about a potential strike).

I don't think there will be any serious issues as this town really doesn't have the fortitude for another strike. But you never can tell—which is why the insurance companies weren't taking chances.

Today I interviewed an "A List" writer. In talking to him, I was really reminded, once again, that I have a long way to go before I'm in the major leagues. Hopefully, in writing this article, I can smooth some of the road ahead of me. It's been bumpy and full of potholes. It wears you out after a while.

In other interesting news: readers may remember an article I wrote last year about Foreign Levies. If not, there's a link to it in the right column of this blog. Well, today, The DGA (Directors Guild) settled the lawsuit. Here's a link to the story.

All these stories just keep reminding me of what a sordid and tough town Hollywood really is. You really have to be strong to survive. All the illusions (or delusions) one is taught in school or might believe in watching the Oscars, or some other awards show, are just well crafted, beautifully choreographed lies. It's not a town for wimps, that's for sure.

Okay, a quick entry… not very exciting. But I must sleep some so that I can be off to Wilshire blvd early tomorrow, my new digital voice recorder and questions in hand.

Crawl Forward

Life continues to be dramatic in its ups and downs. However, life goes on, doesn't it? The clock goes in one direction and we go with it.

The major facets of my personal life continue to be an unknown. That's all about that.

I am writing a new article for Fade in Magazine which will be in the next issue, barring editor disapproval. Another "social injustice of show business" story, I am hoping it will strike resonant chords with people both in this business and not.

Starting these stories is always a daunting prospect. One has a general thesis idea and hopefully some clear points, but the first paragraph, the sequence of events, the wrap up… and the quotes, the quotes, the quotes! Each quoted person represents hours of searching, locating, getting past gatekeepers, wrangling into agreeing to an interview, interviewing, transcribing—looking for the perfect statement (not to be used out of context). It's a lot of effort to be able to write, John Doe says, "I agree with you." Or, "You're full of crap."

That's where I am now. My questions have largely been compiled and now I'm creating my lists of targets for interview.

Oh, and it needs to all be ready for press by April 29^th.

I also continue to work on my other projects: A new 3D trailer for The Diamond Chasers, a new screenplay for which an outline and a few pages are also due by May 1^st.

Hollywood Gossip?

Not too much as I'm trying to stay focused on work. However, I did go to the wrap party for Speed Racer last night. Cool club, open bar (I didn't drink) and overall a bunch of happy people cutting loose—as can only be expected after round-the-clock-forget-what-your-family-looks-like work. I didn't actually work on the movie in any capacity; a friend had been on the special effects crew so I was a guest. I did get to meet and speak briefly with Emile Hirsch. Emile had been (and theoretically remains) a top choice for the lead in Diamond Chasers. However, with the way his career has taken off, it will most likely remain only a dream. I expect with the release of this movie, he will solidify the "screen icon" status in such a way that only top movies will be able to employ him. He's been working at it, so his super-stardom will not have been an overnight thing. If you haven't seen The Girl Next Door or Into the Wild, I do recommend them. It's a chance to see a star on the rise.
Christina Ricci - yup, Trixie was there too. Of course, the bosses themselves, the Wachowski Brothers, Andy and Larry were there looking content and confident. One thing Andy said, in complimenting some of the work everyone had done: "There's nothing out there like it." Coming from the guy that brought us The Matrix, it's an intriguing statement.

If only the heat lamps had worked better, because the dance floor was way too loud and most people, myself included, stayed outside on the huge patio. Though it is Los Angeles, it still does get chilly at 1:00 AM in April. I think the sad truth is that I will be reminded of this wrap party for the next week by a tickle in my throat and a sniffly nose.

Okay, time for me to go to work: pour a fresh cup of coffee, open up my questions.doc doc file, try to stay away from the 'relationship trouble' websites that I've been to a million times already, and focus on the job ahead.

Wish me luck and have a good one.