Thursday, November 29, 2012

Stomach Ailment

OK, so this script that is clearly destined to make me millions upon millions of dollars is now in the cycle and ready to start spinning around for me. I think you can sign up to read stuff on the site even if you don't post stuff on there but I could be wrong. It's here if you are so inclined:

Enough about that. It's in the universe now and I can't save it. Or, fuck, I don't know. I paid to get it read by somebody and I was of course imagining that whatever staff there is for that site would just be sitting around waiting for a script to post and then they would devour it. Or, better yet, the reader would see my irresistible logline and shred their computer trying to pull out morsels of the amazing script. If you're willing, tell me if this shit is confusing or even stupid:  

A young lawyer who has been attacked by a werewolf sets out, with the help of an old cowboy, to avenge his family's deaths and reclaim his true love in the budding Los Angeles of 1895 but must first learn to control the monster that he has become.

That's what's up there right now as an ad/beacon for whoever it is that reads scripts from for pleasure and sport. Would you read that? I've been kicking at and fighting this story for 2 years now and I still don't even know if that's it. Is that the story I just wrote? Is that how you sell the story I just wrote? Guess we'll find out. Honestly, if this is one plank on a road to just getting repped I'll be happy. It's kind of gross to be as old as I am with no agent or manager ever considering that all I really want is to be a cog in the studio machinery.

Tonight would be a great night for a bunch of drinks on the couch in the dark while eating microwaveable hamburgers and cheap potato chips. I'm not going to do that for one big reason: the fiancee does not look kindly on frozen White Castle. It would be hard to enjoy my awfulness and rejoice in the seediness with a judgmental set of eyes and a bunch of lights turned on and trained on me.

But I have another reason, too: I've been having stomach cramps and diarrhea for the last week. It feels like something is eating me. It doesn't hurt all the time but every time I go from sitting to standing there is some level of discomfort. Maybe I was poisoned at Thanksgiving? Or maybe I have an ulcer? I've got to go into the court tomorrow for a conference call that I wouldn't have to deal with if I just shelled out a little for a lawyer. Maybe that's what's got my stomach clenched. I'll find out tomorrow. Hopefully I'll walk out and the pain will go away or maybe I'll actually get the doctor's appointment that I meant to inquire about today and I'll get some answers that way.

Sorry, there's no video for that song and I forget where I go to get audio files. You should probably have started playing it when you opened this post and then it could play while you read or doze off. Oh, well.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Climbing Under The Blcklist

I am, in some ways, a writer. I have always thought of myself that way even though I suppose I am well removed from any professional duties as such. At least for now. I have a degree in screenwriting, which is basically useless, but I do have some little tricks of craft that I know because of classes and I do know all the correct books to use as a guide and the proper formatting programs to use so that I can seem like I am serious about making a career go of the thing. I've tried making that go of the thing in the past and it cratered horribly. (I'm assuming that is an acceptable jargon for running out of money in 9 months and going back to the job I had quit in order to force myself to become a professional writer.)

This picture feels like me right now, with my crippling debt, relatively low income for where I live and for my education level, and my basic fear of just talking to people about anything. I seriously look for ways to write to everybody and avoid opening my mouth and squeaking about any problem or concern that might be roiling my brain. To this end, I've decided to post my recently completed werewolf-western script to I got the invitation to join the site. I'm not sure if there is any screening involved. I put my name on a form and a couple of hours or a day or two later I got an email invitation to join. I'm not sure if the site is actually any type of window into selling a script. I know that scripts featured on the Black List have been sold, sometimes for really good money, but those were scripts that were already circulating. As an effective shut-in, even the friends I have that could potentially circulate my script more or less don't even know me these days. This is at least half my fault, for the most part. I don't go out (costs money) and I don't invite people over very often (not that anybody is inviting me over or accepts said imaginary invitations). So I'm in this rut and cul-de-sac with a tidal wave close by that might crush me and sweep me away to Kansas. I don't want to be a newspaper man or an errand boy or a retail manager or a salesman. If I'm not able to sustain myself as a writer or a painter I will never feel comfortable in my own skin.

So the point of this is to say that I've got the notion to journal (ouch) my attempts to sell my script, starting with the posting of said werewolf-western on sometime tomorrow. After I get paid. And can afford twenty-five measly dollars. Which is painful in my gut to admit because it is proof that I am a navel-gazing sucker with no obviously marketable skills. Cheerio. Also, I'm basically a child with no concept of savings or thrift. If I ever win the lottery I'll be dead of a drug overdose within a year. Anyway, check back daily to see if I've made progress or given up!