:(

I haven't won a single contest this year. Some people have no taste.

Just shut up

And here are the four sorority girls who garnered hateful glares from every writer at Insomnia trying to do the final polish on their ABC/Disney spec (this was the night before the deadline). Do they realize it's possible to communicate without screaming at the top of their lungs? So thankful to know everything about your lives, now, darlings... Might post an in-depth analysis of your conversation, later.

Like Napster for Books

I can't afford to buy anything, including Blake Snyder's now industry-standard tome "Save The Cat," so I went to Barnes and Noble and used my phone to take pictures of the important parts.

Am I a thief?

If I am I hope I'm a sexy thief like Thomas Crowne. Or Catwoman.

Just Because You're Paranoid...

Currently grinding teeth to ash wondering if the notary should have stamped the actual legal release instead of just the notary page in the ABC/Disney Fellowship submission package...

Further Conceits

Scenes in which characters have lengthy talks with priests pretty much suck, too.  Who talks at length with their priest, these days?

Conceits

TV writers love it when characters have conversations with ghosts.  Viewers not so much.

Ain't No Party Like a West Coast Party

Got to go to a Hollywood Party (yes, party gets capitalized in this instance).  A lot of showrunners, a lot of EP's, Michael Angeli (BSG) throwing a glow in the dark frisbee around and accidentally smacking a guy right in the face with it.  And of course wannabe's.  Like me.  The other wannabe's were all readily recognizable.  They were all under 25, gorgeous, in tight skirts and couldn't handle their liquor.  Yes, actresses.  Actresses desperately hunting down showrunners and producers and pretending they were huge fans of said showrunner's show, giggling, nearly spilling their margaritas all over the place and lightly touching said showrunner's arm as they talked, hoping against hope that somehow these producers would remember them and one day cast them in something (or at least invite them to another one of these parties).  And if not, at least there was a free spread of party food.  This being my first Hollywood Party, I was struck by how similar it was to the ones on TV, specifically the one on the premiere episode of "Angel" (now pigeonholing myself as a genre writer. . . and you wonder why this blog is anonymous)

But anyway, my point is that as I stood there, alone, because I didn't know anybody, being irritated at these young actresses, it occurred to me that I was really no different.  I was at this party hoping to meet a producer who I'd strike up a conversation with and who would want to read my stuff, or who needed an assistant, or. . .  You get my point.  But it wasn't a mixer, it was somebody's party, and as bold as I am sometimes, I didn't feel like interrupting Javier Grillo-Marxio's conversation to introduce myself and then suddenly have absolutely nothing to say.  At least the young actresses have something to offer in the short-term (pretty face, tight skirt, light touching of arm, maybe more if they feel like they're getting somewhere).  Young actresses: 1.  Me: 0. 

At least there was a nice spread of party food.