Woohoo!

Something exciting came in the mail today. A letter. My most recent screenplay, No Neighbors, has made it to the finals of the Set in Philadelphia screenplay competition, run by the Philly Film Office. It's not the most prestigious or well known competition and there were only about 100 entries. But, the money is very good. $10k for first, $2500 for second. Top five are finalists. So, not bad. I'm actually hoping to take second because the prize money for first would disqualify me from pretty much every other competition out there and I want to put this one into the Nicholls this year. But, since this seems to be the year where I beat all odds, unlikely things are likely to happen.

Been a long time

Some people sit at their computer all day and need shit to do because work is not very busy. I am not one of those people. Therefore, I am not a very frequent blogger. I have spent the past few months working my ass off. Long days, long weeks, no time to write. But those days are numbered. That's right, I'm knocked up. But, since I don't do anything half-assed (except keep a blog) I am having twins. The good news-- I'll have more time to write up until-- The bad news-- I have two babies and can't even find the time to take a shower. You are welcome to check out my blog about being a soon-to-be-mother-of-twins at www.woapaddle.blogspot.com.

So, as far as Unsolicited Submissions goes, I hope to have more screenwriting news to report between now and August, when my world comes to an abrupt, diaper-filled end. There are, however, some highlights from my blog sabatical: I made a good professional connection with a very established screenwriter when, after an excellent interview for a magazine article, I hit him up for a job as his assistant. He didn't need one at the time, but we exchanged e-mail and phone info and he said to not hesitate to call him if I need advice or whatever.

I got some good feedback on a screenplay that I knew needed work. Too many story lines. Not focused. Great dialog. Clean, crisp characters. This worked. That didn't. The anonymous tips helped me figure out what the story should be about, what to keep, and what to toss. I am re-building it and will probably submit it to Nicholls this year.

Time is precious. Write while you can.

Writing what you don't know

Well, I failed in my attempt to write more often. But, it's the quality that counts, so they say. 

I've been wrestling with my most recent screenplay. It's a thriller, a genre piece. I now realize now how hard it is to write a story about a life you don't live. I don't hang out with cops, no less anarchists, though I do pal around with a few radio personalities. These are the three major characters I'm dealing with. A protector and two instigators. A tired detective looking for a reason to care about a hostile, deteriorating city. An anarchist trying to prove that people are animals. A self serving, power hungry radio host who will say anything for some good ratings. Sounds like it ought to be cake, right?

I've been watching "The Conversation" (Coppola, 1974) for some clues. That film is about surveillance and privacy, pretty different from what I'm trying to deal with. But, there are things about the film that are useful in helping me think about how to tell my story. I've noticed something about those 70's thrillers. They are internal. I mean, there are car chases and shoot outs. But, the main character always has to figure something out about themselves in order to figure out the solution to the larger problem. Something changes within them that allows them to be the hero. People don't write those scripts anymore.

My story is about image control, information manipulation,  and whether one person can really "save" us if we are all a part of the problem. It's an examination of the movie hero. I don't know about you, but I feel like it's harder and harder to be a hero these days. The media takes our heroes and shreds them. Look what's become of the poor Community Activist.

So, in a way, I am writing what I know. I look around my city, full of angry people who shoot each other over parking spaces, who are so racist, the national media has taken notice, who blame everyone else for their problems but themselves- and I want to be that hero that makes a huge difference, that changes people's minds. Ha!

In movies, particularly political thrillers, there's one smart person who figures it out and pulls down the corrupt entity. That's what heroes do. I'm trying to see if  I can write a compelling story where there's a very good chance the smart person can't do that, because the problem is too big. My problem might be that that film can't be written. It might be too subtle for the screen.

By special request...

There have been some complaints. Apparently, my blog is so good, it pisses people off when it is not constantly updated. So, to quell the angry mob of three, I will be making a good faith attempt to live up to my obligations as a blogger. Doesn't that sound so Presidential?

Here's the story everyone has been clamoring for: A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I, along with a few friends, went up to a cabin in the woods to shoot a little movie. Sadly, it was not a porn, though drunken suggestions to that affect were entertained by all.

No, this film is a thriller about- you guessed it- someone in a cabin in the woods. But- oh no- she's not alone! Oh wait... yes she is. That weirdo in the hoodie is just a figment of her imagination. Well, that's the idea anyway.

As my first attempt at directing moves into the second stage (editing), my expectations are reasonable: If someone can follow the story without pulling out their Blackberry, I will be happy. If they are a little distrubed, even better. If they laugh a little,  I'll hardly be able to contain my happiness.

It's an interesting struggle, trying to shoot a movie for no money. I have made certain conclusions about life based on my effort.

First, people with better things to do will generally not work for free. I had a kick-ass cinematographer lined up, my husband's co-worker at NFL films who sought me out when he heard about the project. He promised me the world- HD, lights, scrims, even bounce cards. But, as the shoot crept closer, his responses to e-mail grew more rare. Even the most plaintive plea, "Are you there Brian? It's me, the broke ass filmmaker" were ignored. Without him (and NFL's gear) we needed to not only re-schedule, we needed to find a camera. 

The second lesson: friends with gear will not cut you a break, though they may try to make it sound like you're getting a really good deal. The budget quickly went from bologne sandwiches to $600.

Then, our sound guy, an old friend who seemed so very enthusiastic about the promise of getting away from his sleepless infant for a weekend, bailed a the last minute. Two down. One to go. If I could only find a way to stop  responding to my own ideas...

Now we get to the moral of the story. There is no god in filmmaking. You'll have to wait until my next post to find out why.

My big gay movie

Congratulations, self. You're making a movie!!

That's right. I know I should have mentioned this awhile ago, but Ernie has been taking up all my Blog space. I am shooting my first short film this weekend. A thriller. 12 pages in 3 days. Three luxurious days of the glamorous Hollywood life: eating hot dogs for dinner at midnight, sleeping on the floor, calling out for a diet Coke only to receive my friends' ire in return. You get the picture.

After many months of "you gotta be kidding me" set backs, we are off to the deep woods to make a film that must, at this point, sound really familiar. Girl in remote cabin is terrorized by guy in hoodie. No bag on head. No love story. No funny dialog. It's more like "Swimming Pool" (Francois Ozon). It's more about perception than action.

Though I will not be able to post from set (so rural, there ain't no internet), I will tell all three of you the whole story whence I return.

In other news, I heard back from a young producer to whom I had send a script way back in April. He forgot to tell me that, though he can't sell it, he loved it and wants to read whatever else I have. Baby steps. Baby steps.

Due to problems with Blogger- they changed something and I can no longer paste text into the blog- I will be summarizing Ernie's last update from LA, dated July 21:

Ernie meets his mother and sister in San Diego for Comic Con. Mom thinks he's making a porno, not a pilot. Language barrier. He waves hi and abandons them to return to shooting the not-porno-pilot.

He explains a little more about how this all happened: a producer convinced him that his web series was too good to be on the web and he should make it into a bonifide TV show. Self finance a pilot and pitch it to networks, a tactic that seems to have only worked once (It's Only Sunny in Philadelphia).

Ernie uses modern technology, such as Craigslist, to find the perfect director. His budget- $100,000. Moolah!

He teases us-- he's got a big name involved but can't say who just yet...

Sorry that sucked so bad. I just can't bring myself to type out his while post. Damn you to hell Blogger. I have been bothering him to give us more.

NOTES FROM HOLLYWOOD, PART FOUR

In the fourth installment of guest my blogger's journey, Ernie's pet project turns from whim to whimper, a fickle unknown actor pulls the shoestrings loose... and out comes the checkbook.

July 11, 2008

Aspirin and soda time as we've reached a time-crunch crisis.

Callbacks went smoothly. Every slot was filed and the best actors won. Our lead actor, whose shorn hair concerned us all the week previously, simple wowed us with his acting chops and his amazing hair-growing ability. No wig was needed. Casting for all intents and puroposes was done on Wednesday. Onwards to location and camera issues...

Well, not so fast. Turns out our hero didn't know we were gong to pay him such a paltry amount for his days on set (we have a SAG Ultra Low Budget Agreement with favored nations among the union actors- no actor is supposed to get more than the other). He insisted he was a rising star and had a family to feed, so he passed. Never mind the fact that we brought him in to read twice. Apparently, our leading man doesn't communicate well with his agent. Or vice versa. Or, maybe this was a ploy to get more money...

Either way, we have two weeks till shoot time and no lead actor. Now. in my idiot madness, I wrote our lead actor as a jock who's totally unaware of how good-looking he is and how much damage he's inflicting upon others. He's a player who doesn't know he's a player and feels great guilt when called on it. We've read over 50 people, many who delivered terrific auditions. We've called back many. For all their talent and sweat, they just don't fit what we have in out minds. 

We've been casting it ourselves, putting out our cast list on BreakdownServices.com and selecting from agency submissions, then brining them in. We've saved over $10k in casting fees this way... and discovered some amazing talent in the process. The nightmare right now is to settle with an actor we don't feel any magic from. We haven't settled on one actor yet. So, our quest for an immodest actor in Hollywood continues, suddenly looking more and more impossible...

I might have to break out the checkbook for a casting agent (I believe the going rate is $2k per actor).

Okay, so one more thing. Last time I wrote on my own blog, I had no concept for a show and no money even if I wanted to produce it. And I didn't. So, what happened?

Well, let's just say that there was a tragedy in my life and I found myself inheritor of things like a "portfolio" and "mutual funds" and "oil stocks" and "tax bracket", all of these things I would trade to give someone else another day of life. What came with the package of woe were two people: a financial planner and a tax agent, both of whom guided me to a place where suddenly, I had money I could afford to gamble with.  The question was: gamble on what exactly?

Then, more tragedy: my sister nearly died. If you've never spent Christmas in a hospital, it's probably the saddest place on earth. The lonliness of Christmas morning could break a stronger man than me. In my own private world, between hospital visits, I thought that writing something sexual was the only thing that could keep me grounded. Something about sex and death being twins. (If you don't get it, you will) So, with that in mind, I worte Sex Ed The Series.

It was an ensemble cast, a comedy, in a college setting, concerning a very unusual Sex Ed class run by a very unusual female professor. I wrote it aggressively, remembering what it was like to be a confused sexually active twentysomething in college, wishing I had the faintest clue on how to behave without hurting anybody.

The result wasn't Young American Bodies. It wasn't American Pie either. It was... different. For one, it was a lot more serious than I expected. But, it was funny, moving, surprising, with some insight into the human condition with a little sex thrown in (okay, a lot of sex). 

Maybe someone would make it and maybe someone would watch it. Either on the web or on TV.

Maybe I could gamble on it. But, not as a producer or director. I would just be the money. I would be the person getting it made. Controlling it.

I need a team.

More to come!!