Wowza. While I make supervillain jokes, Shakespeare's Sister preaches it up. Go drink in the righteous fury.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
No, Trans-fans, that's not it.
Apparently a first draft of something calling itself the Transformers script is out on the Web.
Nice try, but no. Sorry.
The only NON-silver paper/must be read with a decoder strip (literally) version in existence is electronic, and on my hard-drive. And no, not this hard-drive. My laptop. A total of six human beings have read the draft.
Nice effort on the part of the writer, though. Keep at it. We could use you over in the SpongeBob slashfic room we've set up.
Although, if you ever, ever post something and put my name on it again, I will find you and stab in the neck with a F*CKING SCREWDRIVER. Clear? Good. Let us return to the playground.
Nice try, but no. Sorry.
The only NON-silver paper/must be read with a decoder strip (literally) version in existence is electronic, and on my hard-drive. And no, not this hard-drive. My laptop. A total of six human beings have read the draft.
Nice effort on the part of the writer, though. Keep at it. We could use you over in the SpongeBob slashfic room we've set up.
Although, if you ever, ever post something and put my name on it again, I will find you and stab in the neck with a F*CKING SCREWDRIVER. Clear? Good. Let us return to the playground.
Fatal Frame .. aniacs?
What do you call yourselves?
For the fans of one of my other movie projects (not me, I have no fans, but the project does) -- we have a script that Mr. Spielberg likes. He plays the game with his son, by the way. He also knows what a "zergling" is. How cool is that?
We've brought a director on board. I don't think his deal's locked yet, but when it is, we'll announce.
Meeting yesterday on some script questions, honing, etc. Two young writers did the first draft, I batted clean-up. When I finish Transformers, I'll shine that sucker up and the director'll go off to prep while I begin my next project (which I'm not yet locked on, so I'll push off saying it). All told, we're really hoping to get Fatal in front of cameras for later this year.
Spoilers? No. But I will tell you, it happens in Japan, the camera's there, the mansion's there, and a variant of the backstory is there.
Now go follow the red butterfly into the village. I have work to do.
For the fans of one of my other movie projects (not me, I have no fans, but the project does) -- we have a script that Mr. Spielberg likes. He plays the game with his son, by the way. He also knows what a "zergling" is. How cool is that?
We've brought a director on board. I don't think his deal's locked yet, but when it is, we'll announce.
Meeting yesterday on some script questions, honing, etc. Two young writers did the first draft, I batted clean-up. When I finish Transformers, I'll shine that sucker up and the director'll go off to prep while I begin my next project (which I'm not yet locked on, so I'll push off saying it). All told, we're really hoping to get Fatal in front of cameras for later this year.
Spoilers? No. But I will tell you, it happens in Japan, the camera's there, the mansion's there, and a variant of the backstory is there.
Now go follow the red butterfly into the village. I have work to do.
Friday, January 28, 2005
Optimus Prime kills a man in a bar fight. Just to watch him die.
Enough with the begging. Here's a spoiler-free update on where the movie is.
I've turned in a draft. We had a meeting yesterday (hence the light blogging) with all the producers. All are in a good mood over where the first draft landed. I was particularly pleased that Tom DeSanto, who has always been the guy riding the "Transformers are full characters" wagon, is happy with where we wound up in these early days.
All have questions which need answering, and will be answered in what is acceptably called a "producer's pass" which is really the "free-because-my-guild-has-no-stones-and-why-didn't-we strike" pass. Then, we'll continue to tweak as we meet with directors. OR, I'll be fired, and you'll have to hump over to Dean Georgaris or Ferris & Brancato's blog. Then I can finally get rip-roaring drunk over Global Frequency not being picked up.
Security is brutally tight on this flick, and there's no way I'm violating my friendly relationship with the fine Dreamworks folks, who are actually my favorite execs in the industry. I think it does no harm to say:
-- Name your favorites. They're in there.
-- Big. Robot. Fights. Robot vs. Robot (mano a mano). Robots vs. Robots (plural, havoc) Humans vs. Robots. Robots vs. cybernetically enhanced rabbits. Cybernetically enhanced rabbits vs. butler ninjas. Butler ... oh, wait, sorry, different project. But most of that's true.
-- No cute kid sidekicks.
Now go away again.
P.S. -- Oh, and Don was yanking your chain about the Soundwave/Blender thing. He's a vaccuum cleaner. A sexy, sexy vaccuum cleaner.
I've turned in a draft. We had a meeting yesterday (hence the light blogging) with all the producers. All are in a good mood over where the first draft landed. I was particularly pleased that Tom DeSanto, who has always been the guy riding the "Transformers are full characters" wagon, is happy with where we wound up in these early days.
All have questions which need answering, and will be answered in what is acceptably called a "producer's pass" which is really the "free-because-my-guild-has-no-stones-and-why-didn't-we strike" pass. Then, we'll continue to tweak as we meet with directors. OR, I'll be fired, and you'll have to hump over to Dean Georgaris or Ferris & Brancato's blog. Then I can finally get rip-roaring drunk over Global Frequency not being picked up.
Security is brutally tight on this flick, and there's no way I'm violating my friendly relationship with the fine Dreamworks folks, who are actually my favorite execs in the industry. I think it does no harm to say:
-- Name your favorites. They're in there.
-- Big. Robot. Fights. Robot vs. Robot (mano a mano). Robots vs. Robots (plural, havoc) Humans vs. Robots. Robots vs. cybernetically enhanced rabbits. Cybernetically enhanced rabbits vs. butler ninjas. Butler ... oh, wait, sorry, different project. But most of that's true.
-- No cute kid sidekicks.
Now go away again.
P.S. -- Oh, and Don was yanking your chain about the Soundwave/Blender thing. He's a vaccuum cleaner. A sexy, sexy vaccuum cleaner.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
"Yes. My tire is flat. Why are you mad I sold the jack?"
Post deleted.
I looked at this, and realize it was a straight political post, without a joke, and not a particularly inciteful one at that. Eh. Although some blogs are a straight id dump, I'd like to keep slightly higher standards here.
I looked at this, and realize it was a straight political post, without a joke, and not a particularly inciteful one at that. Eh. Although some blogs are a straight id dump, I'd like to keep slightly higher standards here.
Equal Opportunity Snark
I want to hop this up from the comments, just in case. We have about 300 people swinging through here a day. We do comics here, we do gaming here, we do movies and screenwriting here, and occasionally -- if it's something I've found funny or annoying for that particular day -- we do politics here.
Most of my friends -- and therefore the comments -- tend to run to the liberal side of things. We had a slightly more conservative friend poke his head in, and (s)he felt a little defensive. You will note, he was never attacked. His arguments had a hole or two poked in them, where there were holes, but no personal assaults. As it should be. But I'm sorry he even felt he had to be on the defensive in the first place.
All this leading around to -- I'm not a "liberal" as it's currently defined. I'm a pragmatist. I find the false dichotomy of current political thought antiquated and intellectually bankrupt. Go back and read my essay "I Miss Republicans." What annoys me about the current administration is not that they're conservative. It's that they let ideology trump reality. I'm equally annoyed when liberals do it. Also, American liberals as an institution are really, really, REAALLLLLY annoyingly smug. As much as I enjoy Al Franken's writing, Michael Moore's movies, and Janine Garofalo as a societal construct, I'm fairly sure that if I sat in a coffee shop with any one of them for more than five minutes, I'd punch them in the neck.
So, as far as Kung Fu Monkey stands, liberal or conservative, come on in. All are welcome. The first person who throws a personal attack on these comments is banned, no matter how close a personal friend.
But have your fucking facts down, and your arguments better be based on some goddam numbers, or you WILL feel the iron grip of the Kung Fu Monkey.
Also, the "bombing Iran" thing was really just a way into the super-villain/apocalypse bit. Don't take us so seriously.
Most of my friends -- and therefore the comments -- tend to run to the liberal side of things. We had a slightly more conservative friend poke his head in, and (s)he felt a little defensive. You will note, he was never attacked. His arguments had a hole or two poked in them, where there were holes, but no personal assaults. As it should be. But I'm sorry he even felt he had to be on the defensive in the first place.
All this leading around to -- I'm not a "liberal" as it's currently defined. I'm a pragmatist. I find the false dichotomy of current political thought antiquated and intellectually bankrupt. Go back and read my essay "I Miss Republicans." What annoys me about the current administration is not that they're conservative. It's that they let ideology trump reality. I'm equally annoyed when liberals do it. Also, American liberals as an institution are really, really, REAALLLLLY annoyingly smug. As much as I enjoy Al Franken's writing, Michael Moore's movies, and Janine Garofalo as a societal construct, I'm fairly sure that if I sat in a coffee shop with any one of them for more than five minutes, I'd punch them in the neck.
So, as far as Kung Fu Monkey stands, liberal or conservative, come on in. All are welcome. The first person who throws a personal attack on these comments is banned, no matter how close a personal friend.
But have your fucking facts down, and your arguments better be based on some goddam numbers, or you WILL feel the iron grip of the Kung Fu Monkey.
Also, the "bombing Iran" thing was really just a way into the super-villain/apocalypse bit. Don't take us so seriously.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Win Kamchatka, Win the World
Tyrone: This Seymour Hersch guy says we're going to be bombing Iran by summer.
John: You know, you would have heard about this sooner if you went to the political blogs I link to on my blog --
Tyrone: I have a life.
John: Ah.
Tyrone: How can they possibly sell this? The American people aren't that stupid!
John: To paraphrase P.T. Barnum, "Nobody ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American people."
Tyrone: They'd have to start up a draft, and they couldn't do that by summer --
John: No, it'll be targetted bombings.
Tyrone: But what's the sell?
John: Hmm. Well, if there's a terrorist attack, they'll track it to Iran, and justify it that way.
Tyrone: Would people fall for that?
John: Bud, 19 September 11 hijackers --15 Saudis, 1 Egyptian, I forget the rest. Draw the line from that to Iraq.
Tyrone: Fine.
John: Now, if there's NO attack, then they'll trot out the nuke threat and also, there'd be a certain symmetry to the map. "Look, we freed Afghanistan. Look, we freed Iraq. Look what big pile o'theocracy is right in the middle of the two."
(/begin rampant paranoia)
Tyrone: I say that then, they'd have to suspend American elections, because the public would smarten up.
John: So suspend them. Claim it's just a delay, you can't secure the polling places, trot out a terror alert.
Tyrone: People will catch on.
John: You've got to remember, the right-wing media and blogosphere will buy ANYTHING the President says for at least a week. They've got wiggle room. All they need is some wiggle room to pull it off.
Oh, and here's the beautiful part -- bring the National Guard back from Iraq. You win points for drawing down numbers there, and "re-assign" them to "terror patrols" here in the States. People will be so giddy at the returning troops ...
Tyrone: First, fuck you for using the word "blogosphere." Second, the amount of thought you've put into how to take over a country is kind of disturbing.
John: I always wondered just how hard it would be, really, to be a supervillain. And I've decided, frankly ... not so hard.
(/end rampant paranoia)
Tyrone: Okay, Dr. Doom, back to reality for a second. If we bomb Iran, then the North Koreans would start lobbing nukes.
John: Why do you say that?
Tyrone: They'd be the last of the 'Axis of Evil' nations, what've they got to lose?
John: Yeah, but by that point, the U.S. has no game. We're stretched razor thin as it is, and there's no WAY anyone's going to back a play in Iran. Solo there.
Tyrone: So instead of tossing nukes --
John: -- which would be suicidal, they instead take their million-man Army -- two million boots-on-the-ground, baby -- and march into South Korea. Can't use nukes to stop the troops, you'd be vaporizing friendly South Koreans.
Tyrone: Yeah, but what does China do?
John: If I were running it?
Tyrone: Sure. Fine, from your space fortress.
John: Chinese banks own a third of the US current deficit, around $650 billion. All in all, 86% of the deficit is owned by Asian central banks. If I were China, I'd trigger a US financial crisis at the same time I let North Korea do all the hard conquering work. Then China steps in, "rescues" a newly unified Korea, and declares it a protected territory, or whatever the hell Hong Kong is. End-game: America is financially crippled, still the main object of hate for the Muslim world, militarily overstretched, and politically paralyzed. China sews up the loose geographic tail ends of an Empire, maybe they unite Asean plus Three with India and go on to run the next frikkin' century without even trying.
Tyrone: You should come up with a boardgame about this stuff. It's like Risk, but more interesting.
John: It's exactly like Risk. Except, you know how every game of Risk has that one dumb guy --
Tyrone: There's really no need to finish that sentence.
John: If you say so.
John: You know, you would have heard about this sooner if you went to the political blogs I link to on my blog --
Tyrone: I have a life.
John: Ah.
Tyrone: How can they possibly sell this? The American people aren't that stupid!
John: To paraphrase P.T. Barnum, "Nobody ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American people."
Tyrone: They'd have to start up a draft, and they couldn't do that by summer --
John: No, it'll be targetted bombings.
Tyrone: But what's the sell?
John: Hmm. Well, if there's a terrorist attack, they'll track it to Iran, and justify it that way.
Tyrone: Would people fall for that?
John: Bud, 19 September 11 hijackers --15 Saudis, 1 Egyptian, I forget the rest. Draw the line from that to Iraq.
Tyrone: Fine.
John: Now, if there's NO attack, then they'll trot out the nuke threat and also, there'd be a certain symmetry to the map. "Look, we freed Afghanistan. Look, we freed Iraq. Look what big pile o'theocracy is right in the middle of the two."
(/begin rampant paranoia)
Tyrone: I say that then, they'd have to suspend American elections, because the public would smarten up.
John: So suspend them. Claim it's just a delay, you can't secure the polling places, trot out a terror alert.
Tyrone: People will catch on.
John: You've got to remember, the right-wing media and blogosphere will buy ANYTHING the President says for at least a week. They've got wiggle room. All they need is some wiggle room to pull it off.
Oh, and here's the beautiful part -- bring the National Guard back from Iraq. You win points for drawing down numbers there, and "re-assign" them to "terror patrols" here in the States. People will be so giddy at the returning troops ...
Tyrone: First, fuck you for using the word "blogosphere." Second, the amount of thought you've put into how to take over a country is kind of disturbing.
John: I always wondered just how hard it would be, really, to be a supervillain. And I've decided, frankly ... not so hard.
(/end rampant paranoia)
Tyrone: Okay, Dr. Doom, back to reality for a second. If we bomb Iran, then the North Koreans would start lobbing nukes.
John: Why do you say that?
Tyrone: They'd be the last of the 'Axis of Evil' nations, what've they got to lose?
John: Yeah, but by that point, the U.S. has no game. We're stretched razor thin as it is, and there's no WAY anyone's going to back a play in Iran. Solo there.
Tyrone: So instead of tossing nukes --
John: -- which would be suicidal, they instead take their million-man Army -- two million boots-on-the-ground, baby -- and march into South Korea. Can't use nukes to stop the troops, you'd be vaporizing friendly South Koreans.
Tyrone: Yeah, but what does China do?
John: If I were running it?
Tyrone: Sure. Fine, from your space fortress.
John: Chinese banks own a third of the US current deficit, around $650 billion. All in all, 86% of the deficit is owned by Asian central banks. If I were China, I'd trigger a US financial crisis at the same time I let North Korea do all the hard conquering work. Then China steps in, "rescues" a newly unified Korea, and declares it a protected territory, or whatever the hell Hong Kong is. End-game: America is financially crippled, still the main object of hate for the Muslim world, militarily overstretched, and politically paralyzed. China sews up the loose geographic tail ends of an Empire, maybe they unite Asean plus Three with India and go on to run the next frikkin' century without even trying.
Tyrone: You should come up with a boardgame about this stuff. It's like Risk, but more interesting.
John: It's exactly like Risk. Except, you know how every game of Risk has that one dumb guy --
Tyrone: There's really no need to finish that sentence.
John: If you say so.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
I was hoping for some inside information ...
... on the whole AVENGERS DISASSEMBLED thing. Like why the hell Hawkeye's carrying around a couple pounds of explosives on his back without some sort of quick-release catch. He didn't seem like a moron. But ... huh. Whatever. I guess techno-god Tony Stark and the Avengers haven't mastered seat-belt technology. Take a gander inside a Honda Civic sometime, Tony, it'll knock you on your ass.
I direct you to -- The Hulk's Blog. (thanks to Titivil)
Oh, and let me just say to Warren, Mark, Gail, Joe and my other various comic book writing pals -- I just plowed through my dinky little 8-pager zombie script for Ross and Atomeka. And I tell you, right now, as a guy with 20 movies under his belt ...
... writing comics is nut-crushingly hard work. DAMN. I mean, DAMN.
I direct you to -- The Hulk's Blog. (thanks to Titivil)
Oh, and let me just say to Warren, Mark, Gail, Joe and my other various comic book writing pals -- I just plowed through my dinky little 8-pager zombie script for Ross and Atomeka. And I tell you, right now, as a guy with 20 movies under his belt ...
... writing comics is nut-crushingly hard work. DAMN. I mean, DAMN.
And in August, it smells like urine ...
Elke and Steve have just moved to New York, apparently. No big thing, but their wide-eyed enjoyment reminds me of my first few weeks in New York. Note to my friends from Toronto: No, Toronto is not "the New York City of Canada". New York City is the New York City of EARTH.
I knew I'd become at least an honorary New Yorker when, while crossing 6th Avenue, I saw a guy in a tutu, workie boots, a sweater and a scuba mask, and my first thought was not "Sweet God, who's that freak", but "Hey, Crazy Tutu Scuba guy is back! It must be spring!"
Our new Gothamites may wish to check out, in case they missed the first recommendation, Alien Loves Predator. Still, for my money, the best comic about living in New York. It only incidentally stars Alien and Predator.
I knew I'd become at least an honorary New Yorker when, while crossing 6th Avenue, I saw a guy in a tutu, workie boots, a sweater and a scuba mask, and my first thought was not "Sweet God, who's that freak", but "Hey, Crazy Tutu Scuba guy is back! It must be spring!"
Our new Gothamites may wish to check out, in case they missed the first recommendation, Alien Loves Predator. Still, for my money, the best comic about living in New York. It only incidentally stars Alien and Predator.
Monday, January 24, 2005
Fantabulous Four
Lordy, do I not wish to comment on another human's super-hero movie. One might argue I have forfeited my right to do so for at least a generation. I have friends who are working on this flick. I actually dig Chris Evans and Ioan is a friend of Michelle Forbes, automatically making him a decent human being, and a damn fine actor. I will assume the film is indeed spiffy, and instead take issue with the trailer alone. Specifically, the construction of same.
The first shot -- the FIRST SHOT -- of a superpower is Reed Richards catching a falling wine bottle before it hits the floor. Catching a wine bottle. That's it.
He's MISTER GODDAM FANTASTIC. So he has the superpowers of an OLIVE GARDEN WAITER? I don't want the biggest brain in the Marvel universe to be able to be defeated by wobbly-table technology. Then, THEN, just as this thing begins to redeem itself, with Sue doing some force-smacking of Doom and Johnny flaming on (and I abso-frikkin-love that shot of Johhny tearing off his outfit to reveal the FF costume) and Ben having trucks smash into him in a way that makes one wonder what they would have done if Guillermo hadn't invented that shot first, along with these we get a second look at Reed's powers, as he ...
... unlocks a door from the other side.
THE THING -- super-strength and invulnerability!!!
SUE STORM -- invisibility and force fields!!!
JOHNNY STORM -- mastery of living flame and flight!!!
REED RICHARDS -- handy around the house!!!
New trailer, people. Now.
The first shot -- the FIRST SHOT -- of a superpower is Reed Richards catching a falling wine bottle before it hits the floor. Catching a wine bottle. That's it.
He's MISTER GODDAM FANTASTIC. So he has the superpowers of an OLIVE GARDEN WAITER? I don't want the biggest brain in the Marvel universe to be able to be defeated by wobbly-table technology. Then, THEN, just as this thing begins to redeem itself, with Sue doing some force-smacking of Doom and Johnny flaming on (and I abso-frikkin-love that shot of Johhny tearing off his outfit to reveal the FF costume) and Ben having trucks smash into him in a way that makes one wonder what they would have done if Guillermo hadn't invented that shot first, along with these we get a second look at Reed's powers, as he ...
... unlocks a door from the other side.
THE THING -- super-strength and invulnerability!!!
SUE STORM -- invisibility and force fields!!!
JOHNNY STORM -- mastery of living flame and flight!!!
REED RICHARDS -- handy around the house!!!
New trailer, people. Now.
Writing: Adaptation (Pt. 1)
(Adapted from an article in CHUD's Movie Insider Magazine)
Reality check: if you want to make a living as a professional Hollywood screenwriter, then odds are you will wind up writing an adaptation.
Time for some Hollywood 101. Let's take a best-case scenario. Say your career begins by selling an original script, a "spec sale". In this dreamy version, a man holding an automatic office door closer (they exist) sits opposite you across a coffee table covered with art books by artists he's never actually heard of. And he says:
"Great script. Wonderful. Characters are incredible, real director-bait. We're not going to rewrite it or give you notes, we're just going to make this as fast as humanly possible. Hmm? Oh, no more than three years. Five tops."
Now let's even spot you a pretty good deal for a young writer's first spec sale -- low six figures against high six figures. You don't get the high six figures until the movie's actually produced. If the movie's ever produced. That's what the "against" means in all the movie articles you've read. And kid, trust me, that money -- my imaginary friend has an imaginary friend, and even he doesn't believe in that money.
Low six, let's say $150,000. Sweet Jesus, not bad, right? Take out taxes. $75,000 left. Commissions, that's $15-20k depending on your agent/lawyer deal. Say $60,000 left over three to five years (I'm not even counting the time it took you to write the thing and somehow get it to a Hollywood human), the value of any rewrites (if you get them, which you won't), pretty much cancelled by the free "courtesy passes" you'll do for the producers and execs.
You just averaged $15,000-$20,000 a year. Congratulations. You're a feature film writer, and the guy humping the Freezie machine at the 7-11 takes home more than you.*
Even as you toil away on your next little original opus -- one you're in no way sure you'll be able to sell, remember -- the bills keep coming. Your kids need food. You need health insurance. You want to write for a living? Then you need to write and get paid for it. You need to go where writing gets done. You need to go to adaptation-land.
"No WAY!" I hear the goateed ones scream. "I'm only doing my own, brilliant original material. I'm no hack!"
Well, ok. If you're going to make indies, that can be true, and good on ya. You're a god. I admire you. (You're also probably a director, so fuck off back to your Guild and cackle over your egregious "FILM BY" credit. Bastards.) That's a whole different game, one I am absolutely not qualified to write about. You know who could write that column? Kevin Smith. He's gutsy as hell, and I admire him immensely. He'd write the shit out of that column.
I also have his script for The Six Million Dollar Man on my shelf.
>NEXT WEEK: Those who can't teach, develop ...
*("What about those million-dollar script sales?" I hear you cry. Quick hint: if you're counting on a million-dollar script sale to justify your work on breaking into the film industry, go back to the filth-encrusted messageboard from whence you came. Adults only here, please)
TRUE STORY:An adaptation is a movie based on source materials: a novel, a comic book, a series of newspaper articles, etc. I also count most remakes and sequels as adaptations, because what the writer's doing is taking source material -- the first movie -- and telling another story using elements from it, be they characters or actual story beats.
Movie Exec: They're insane. His last movie made a nickel. There's not a single star in the thing, the whole project's going to cost something like two hundred million dollars, they're shooting in New Zealand so the studio can't be down there and maintain control --they're ruined. What the hell were they thinking?
Me: The Lord of the Rings is the most popular set of books in HISTORY.
Movie Exec: Eh. Elves. Please.
Reality check: if you want to make a living as a professional Hollywood screenwriter, then odds are you will wind up writing an adaptation.
Time for some Hollywood 101. Let's take a best-case scenario. Say your career begins by selling an original script, a "spec sale". In this dreamy version, a man holding an automatic office door closer (they exist) sits opposite you across a coffee table covered with art books by artists he's never actually heard of. And he says:
"Great script. Wonderful. Characters are incredible, real director-bait. We're not going to rewrite it or give you notes, we're just going to make this as fast as humanly possible. Hmm? Oh, no more than three years. Five tops."
Now let's even spot you a pretty good deal for a young writer's first spec sale -- low six figures against high six figures. You don't get the high six figures until the movie's actually produced. If the movie's ever produced. That's what the "against" means in all the movie articles you've read. And kid, trust me, that money -- my imaginary friend has an imaginary friend, and even he doesn't believe in that money.
Low six, let's say $150,000. Sweet Jesus, not bad, right? Take out taxes. $75,000 left. Commissions, that's $15-20k depending on your agent/lawyer deal. Say $60,000 left over three to five years (I'm not even counting the time it took you to write the thing and somehow get it to a Hollywood human), the value of any rewrites (if you get them, which you won't), pretty much cancelled by the free "courtesy passes" you'll do for the producers and execs.
You just averaged $15,000-$20,000 a year. Congratulations. You're a feature film writer, and the guy humping the Freezie machine at the 7-11 takes home more than you.*
Even as you toil away on your next little original opus -- one you're in no way sure you'll be able to sell, remember -- the bills keep coming. Your kids need food. You need health insurance. You want to write for a living? Then you need to write and get paid for it. You need to go where writing gets done. You need to go to adaptation-land.
"No WAY!" I hear the goateed ones scream. "I'm only doing my own, brilliant original material. I'm no hack!"
Well, ok. If you're going to make indies, that can be true, and good on ya. You're a god. I admire you. (You're also probably a director, so fuck off back to your Guild and cackle over your egregious "FILM BY" credit. Bastards.) That's a whole different game, one I am absolutely not qualified to write about. You know who could write that column? Kevin Smith. He's gutsy as hell, and I admire him immensely. He'd write the shit out of that column.
I also have his script for The Six Million Dollar Man on my shelf.
>NEXT WEEK: Those who can't teach, develop ...
*("What about those million-dollar script sales?" I hear you cry. Quick hint: if you're counting on a million-dollar script sale to justify your work on breaking into the film industry, go back to the filth-encrusted messageboard from whence you came. Adults only here, please)
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Please, spare me your walky-wrath
And a shout out to Walkerton over the webcomic It's Walky, who -- according to my sitemeter -- is the center of the frikkin' Live Journal universe.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)