One of the “jobs” of being a screenwriter is to be a student of human nature. When a screenwriter approaches a project from the standpoint of capturing the truth of human experience – then putting that on screen, well – that is when the movie will resonate with an audience. People don’t want you to simply tell them a story; they want you to tell their story. How can you possibly master the art of screenwriting if you don’t understand the nature of what makes people tick? You can’t.
And then, what’s more human – yet harder to understand – than love? So, what is the hardest story to write? The love story.

The game of love; turns out, isn’t a game at all. Can a woman trap a man with some “big act” – where she carefully studies what men want then provide that? Sure, she can and there are volumes for her to study (a’ la Teresa Russell in Black Widow). But then, oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.

Who doesn’t love a good Cinderella story, right? Allow me to tell you the story of a young Cinderella, in love.

She was young with the only life behind her that found on an Alabama farm. Inside she always wanted something different – something more. As only the second person ever in her family to go to college she was in some uncharted waters. But, she went.

Amazing how all the girls at the university were so anxious to snag one of the rich frat boys. Seduction of such was their course of study, so it seemed. Not her, she wanted something different – something more. Fast forward senior year: Laundry room, Saturday morning, he shuttles in in Sperry Topsiders and an Izod shirt. She sits Indian style on the washer reading Bio-Chem.

He was the handsome son of a prominent doctor – the only son – living on the cusp of disdain for his father’s wealth all the while accepting the benefits of it. Time came for her to graduate and begin working out in the “real world”. She did – out of state. It only took him a month to decide to follow her. A month of threats of being cut off financially from father’s money. He came anyway.

The passion of young love, the actuality of no money, and sticky Florida summers brewed together in the cauldron of fate. She had chosen an apartment near work. 16 Mulvey street St. Augustine – a charming Victorian home converted into 4 units. From there she could walk to work. His job took him deep into downtown Jacksonville – an hour’s drive. It still worked and they were happy together – until the air conditioner broke in his car. Father refused to send money. Fine, we’ll make it our own way.

She would always have dinner cooking when he walked in the door. His clothes always darkened from the sweat of the trip. Then began the ritual – a ritual of love which soon became to be called the “Bohemian Foot Rub”: Off came his clothes – in the living room. He was offered a seat in his special chair (the one that he had been “allowed” to move in). She kneeled before him as she place his feet into a pan of isopropyl alcohol. Then, she would remove her top and begin to massage his feet and legs with the alcohol. It was a gesture born of love for this man. A gesture of gratitude meant to thank him for choosing her over what would be an easy life with daddy’s money. Sometimes dinner would be lost to a tepid shower together as she washed his back.

Cinderella doesn’t always live happily ever after though. As before, she wanted something more. She wanted marriage to this man she loved. Our prince, at first, seemed okay with the idea of it. So she began to plan for it. There was even a ring. One day, she finally acknowledged his cooling to the idea of marriage. He began to make excuses as to why they couldn’t marry. With each excuse she would work for the solution – only to be presented with the next excuse. Living together was, he said, enough.

No, it wasn’t. She moves out the weekend he goes to see his brother. She left what had been her bed, partly because she couldn’t bear to sleep where then had been together and partly because he didn’t have one when he moved in and she would have never made him sleep on the couch – not even once. She removed all his things from storage and sets up “his” apartment. Cleaning, hanging pictures, arranging furniture, and leaving a fresh batch of his favorite spaghetti sauce in the fridge.

They crossed paths 10 years later – yet another story – yet Another Auld Lang Syne. She recently divorced and he miserably married. He had married the kind of woman he was “supposed” to marry – a woman as beautiful as the Rollex watch on his arm – shrill and shrewish woman but one befitting his station. A woman of the same nature as the pretty young nurse his father had divorced his mother to marry.

He didn’t ask her why she left. That one he knew. That left him with the only question to ask. “Why did you set up the apartment when you left? Most women would have thrown everything out in the yard.”

“Because, I’m not most women and because I still loved you.”

There wasn’t anything our little Cinder girl could have done – sometimes love isn’t enough when what he wants is something you aren’t.

Almost Cinderella – how unlucky.

Luck, they say, is when preparedness meets opportunity. In my trip to L.A. last year I took 7 copies of my screenplay with the intention of handing them off personally at the office of 7 select agents. During McKee’s seminar, however, I could see clearly the weaknesses in my story. Nothing hurt more than to bring all 7 copies back home with me – to know I’m not good enough – yet. To be that close to the opportunity for what I really want and know I’d be rejected if I reached for it – I had learned I wasn’t prepared at the moment of my opportunity.

Those who can – do. Those who can’t? Well, they work their ass off until they can. That is, if you want it bad enough.  ”The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something.”    This quote comes from “The Last Lecture” by Randy Pausch.  Best hour of your life you will ever spend.  If you’ve not seen it, I recommend you do.  Brick walls also weed out those who don’t want to put forth the effort to overcome - which puts us in company of some pretty amazing, and like minded, people.

Robert McKee says in his STORY seminar that it takes an average of 10 years to sell your first screenplay.  That isn’t a rejection letter, it is merely a brick in that wall.  Besides, the way McKee should have said it is that it takes 10 years to sell an average screenplay.  Many great screenplays begin as merely average works – taking forever to sell.  From there, three things can happen.  Someone will see the potential in it, buy it, polish it up, and make a blockbuster – A list - movie of it.  Casablanca, to illustrate that point.  The second scenario:  Someone will buy it and make it “as is” thus creating that toxic slurry of average movies we have onscreen these days.   I think you’ll agree there is no need to illustrate that point.  The third thing?  No one buys it.  Yet.

During the time between finishing your script and selling it, what do you do?  If you are smart, if you really claim the title of “professional screenwriter”,   you will hone that script to perfection.  “Witness” and “Mr and Mrs Smith” are examples of this.   “Making a Good Script Great” is a great place to start.  My advice?  Consider your script as a child.  As they grow, you utilize “teachable moments” to help them learn life lessons.  Once they are grown you then have to seek out teachable moments.  Not “I told you so” moments – but moments where you admit to them you could have done better.  It frees them to not repeat your mistakes.  It also frees you from the natural tendency we all have to defend our mistakes. Same with scripts.  Let them grow and mature as, hopefully, you allow your child to.  You really want your script still at home with you 35 years from now? Geeze Louise, get some help with your control issues if you do!

I understand the temptation to sell a “green” screenplay. I’m guilty of it myself. But, would you want to be known for having written an “average” screenplay?  I know I don’t. Indy producers/directors will tell you “At least your movie will be made.”  True that.  But, beware of binding yourself in she shackles of mediocrity just to put some cash in your pocket.   As I’ve always said: Mediocrity creates a living.  Excellence creates a life.  Perfection creates a legacy.  The choice, and desire, is up to you whether you choose to merely make a living, live a life, or create a legacy.  I’m liking that legacy thing myself.

I took seven copies of my script with me to L.A. when I attended Robert McKee’s seminar.  It was my intention to deliver them to 7 agents as I search for representation.  All seven came home with me.  During the class, I realized my script was “good” but now I could make it so much better.  McKee gave me the confidence to know I could do better.  He also gave me many of the tools I would need to make my script better.  I saw the weaknesses of my story and, red pen in hand, I began to whittle away those flaws. 

McKee also gave the the best of compliments.  He told me it wouldn’t take me 10 years to sell my first script – because - I get it.  I’m counting on that Mr. McKee.

By day, I’m a mild mannered microbiologist but, by night, I am a screenwriter trying to worm my way into the Hollywood system from the outside. As such, dating has proven to be a difficult, albeit entertaining, endeavor. Seems there are two sets of men out there.
The first man, well, he doesn’t want to date me because my dream is too pie in the sky and he wants someone who is more of a ‘realists’. That’s what he says anyway. From what I see of him, he wants my full on attention and he knows a woman who works full time, as a writer trying to sell a screenplay, isn’t going to be able to provide that for him. He passes on me.
The second kind of man, he is afraid someday he will go to a movie and see “himself” on that screen -because I’ve written him into one of my stories. Hey! That’s a plus for him right there, at least it is evidence he does believe in me. He has to think I’m indeed “good enough” to make it there.
Hmmm, that means I’m in error, there is a third set of, what I shall loosely call, men. The men that I seem to attract – hereby referred to as the “Freak of the Week” club. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a man bashing female by any means. I love and respect men, really I do – but for crying out loud some of the things you dudes think is ‘okay’. Sheeze!
Oh, you want an example? Sure. How about going to a movie? It is your first date and you meet up at the theater. He has the tickets waiting when you get there (good sign). He wants to know if you want anything before going in. Polite – check. Bathed and groomed – check. Knows about your writing and still wants to go out with you – check! This could be good.
Small chit chat during the “twenty” followed by fairly intelligent comments after each preview. Time for the feature. I begin the analysis of the film before me. Envisioning what the slug line would be for that scene. How would you describe that action in script format? What is the significance of that slice of dialogue? You know, what everyone does at the movies.
Then he takes my hand. Aw, how sweet I think. Old fashioned hand holding. I smile but, by now, I’m trying not to miss beat of the story in front of me. I’m obsessed, I know, but its part of my work to acquire the skill set to write my own screenplays.
Next thing I know, he pulls my hand toward his lap. I don’t think much of it. That is, until he puts my palm squarely on “it”. Not only on “it” but “it” is uncovered and in full ‘angry’ glory! I pull my hand back at which time he profusely apologizes. I shush him and try to shake it off – can’t help but to rub my palm on my jeans – like THAT is going to help! I excuse myself to the restroom where I can’t wash my hands fast enough before I flee the theater.
Now filed away in the recesses of my lower file cabinet drawer is the incident of the “movie date”. I guess I am guilty of “using” men as fodder for stories. But, hey, if they didn’t make me right about them then they wouldn’t make me write about them. Right? I wonder if Paul Rubens would be interested in playing him in the movie?

Well, that didn’t work.  I tried to write something (see my Kraftmaid Kitchen blog entry) on spec.  Speculating that I could crawl inside the mind of someone else and write something they want.  They did have 90,000 entries into the contest so I’m not that disheartened with not making the top 10.  Okay, that’s a lie – I was sure I’d hit upon what they wanted.  So, no more contest?  Wrong.

I found the Writer’s Store “Hollywood Insider” contest.  There, you vie for the opportunity to write a screenplay on spec.  Simon Kinberg (Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Sherlock Holmes, X-men etc) gave us a tag line:

A spy who has spent life wining and dining young women suddenly gets a major surprise when his daughter knocks on the door.

We had to write the first 15 pages of the script.  Those pages will be judged and each the top 10 will finish their screenplay.  One screenplay will be chosen as the overall winner.  That script will be made into a movie by Binderspink Productions.  The top 10 should be announced in late January so at least it moves fast. 

In my submission, I did allow myself to voice my frustration with spec writing by including a little message to Mr. Kinberg.  My character, Martin Yeager was given this line:

I don’t give a flying F where.We’re talking national security here, people’s lives at stake,and you’ve got me playing some sick game of “Simon Says”?

Yeah, Mr. Kinberg, not to put any pressure on you but … people’s lives are at stake with your contest.  Every entry was sent to you with the fervent hope this would be “the one”.  We all hope this chance will be our one - that one break from which we build a new life, not a ”brake” which stops our hopes and dreams cold in their tracks.

I’m amazed, even with all the vastness that is L.A., it can be reduced to one thing “synaptic impulse”.
I’ll begin with the daily migration that is the L.A. freeway. “Freeway” being such an ironic term as there is a de facto slavery in it. People sit for hours in traffic – hours! They are slaves to the wonted day, the wonted synapses, wanting freedom – or so they say. I had it explained to me that this is the only time most people get to be alone and it is a relished time. That’s a plausible explanation but even so it is sad. Of course that made my mind to wonder if that is why it is called Detrol “LA”? I know if I were sequestered in that mess all I’d be thinking is how much I have to go pee!
But seriously, why is it that they willingly engage in behavior that, from the 11th floor of my hotel room, looks nothing more than leaf cutter ant behavior? Synaptic impulse – instinct. They seem driven in a sacrifice of their life to work for someone else – someone else’s “cause” – and someone else’s pocket.
Enter Hollywood – the knight in shining armor. Hollywood offers to these an escape – if only momentary. But, that is only on a surface examination of the place. Deeper, we see that Hollywood is not immune to synaptic impulse. They give us stories that trigger within us emotions, reactions, feelings that we would fear to experience in real life. From gut wrenching decisions to the depth of a perfect and eternal love, Hollywood knows how to pluck our neurons. But, that is all it is – a firing of a synapse – fire enough and you will get a fatigue of the nerve fiber. Threshold. Threshold raises the bar, so to speak, of what it takes to excite us. So evocative was the “blood” running down a shower drain, in black and white, in the movie “Phycho” that Hitchcock was told it was “too real”. Now days, to elicit the same reaction, we are forced to depict the horrors of the monsters who live among us onscreen.
So Hollywood has become a battleground. Things here have to be bigger, brighter, faster, sharper just to match the monotonous rataplan of what we so foolishly call “living”. To do so requires a constant stepping up of stimulation – and that is just the stuff of Hollywood – those are only superficial.
Deep within us are the synapses that fire when we undergo a self examination. These pathways ignite during the process of discovering who we are and why. These represent a vast, rarely tapped, resource for material in Hollywood. What if, this wasn’t limited to only an education plot but was deep in the subtext of a spy thriller? Romantic comedy? Drama? Would you, the movie going audience, accept it?
Those are the stories I’d love to provide to you.
As for the term ‘synaptic impulse’, it doesn’t really exist. A neologism that seemed to fit what I’m trying to say. Yes, nerve transmission is called an ‘impulse’ and the transmission jumps across a ‘synapse’. I put the two together to give a connotation of ingrained desire to fire a thought, a feeling, a reaction, an emotion – all the things we wish we could do in real life, but we don’t. Come with me and I will indulge them in the safe vicariousness of the movie world.

Where I work we are constantly trying to improve communication. When we come upon a critical situation to assure the other person is listening we are supposed to say: I need a little clarification. It is intended to be a signal that you really need to hear what is about to be said. I guess I need to say that about my last blog. Well, the part about taking writing assignments – that is.
Surprisingly, quite a few people warned me that no one would ever want to work with me if I refuse to take assignments. Hmmm – they do have a point there. So I will clarify. Assignments are necessary in the world of writing. However, the key to a successful writing assignment is, as so brilliantly stated by Stephen Covey, “begin with the end in mind”.
I have a perfect illustration. I love to enter essay contest. I usually won’t even bother if the grand prize is less than $5,000. Like I tell my daughter, an artist, don’t spend the same amount of energy chasing 50 dollars as you do 50 thousand dollars. I have my job that pays the bills for now. I’d like for my writing to do so, but I just can’t buy into the “starving artist” concept. Scripts prices are all over the place. Yeah, the union stepped in and set a minimum payment – if you are a member of the union. Script prices are very much like real estate – the price is defined by that amount at which a willing buyer will pay and a willing seller will sell. A hungry tummy makes for some very willing sellers.
But, I digressed didn’t’ I? I was going to give you an illustration.

Essay contest rules can give you the criteria for judging but they can’t explain what the judges really want. Every time, I give it my best shot. Every time, I try to crawl inside the head of the judges. Sigh. I always read the winning essay. 100% of the time I face palm: THAT’S what they wanted? I could have done that – had I known! Why didn’t they say that is what they wanted? With every essay I’ve submitted I’ve been very close but I can see why I wasn’t chosen. I just missed the mark of what they wanted. And that is the danger of writing assignments. Writing from the heart doesn’t miss the mark. It will always speak to the heart of the audience. Writing from assignment will hit the mark when there is a unity between writer and benefactor.
And so, I’ve since found another essay contest. KraftMaid define your style. $50,000 for the remodeling of a kitchen. Guess I’ll know in January if I got close to the mark on this one.

InspirationBoard

Let’s go back to Mr. Verrier’s article to begin today on part three. Sweepstakes pitching. Personally, I like that concept – if it is used for original stories that is. But then it scares the socks off me as the written word is my comfort zone – not the spoken word. I’ve been told, however, when I speak of my storylines I get this gleam in my eye as I seemingly glide into another dimension to tell my tales. I pray this is what producers and studios are looking for in a writer: That passion for telling stories.

Last time I criticized producers for demanding the “elaborate outlines”, beat sheets, and character profiles of the writers before the script is even considered. Today I want to address the writer. The screenwriter as artist must always supercede the screenwriter as business person. That is the only way Hollywood will ever begin to make consistently great films. So what if you have to be pitted against one another? That is the business side of it – get used to it. Pitching is a job interview.

In my perfect world a writer would pitch an already written script. The producer would decide to buy that script and then form a partnership with the writer. Then, and only then, would come the elaborate outlines and character studies. As I said before, it only makes sense to do it that way as the audience isn’t going to walk into a theater with a program outlining each scene and character. I know the problem arises with what I call Prima Donna writers. Writers who think their work is so perfect that not a word should be changed – ever. To them I say shame on you and get over yourself! You give the people who want to do screenwriting as a life, not just a living, a bad name.

I love to watch movies with subtitles on. From what I gather the subtitles are mostly taken from the script, not from actual dialogue as there are incongruencies between the spoken word and what appears written on the screen. I’ve not found a time in which the spoken word wasn’t better. “Panic Room” is a movie that comes to mind as an example of this. My point being that other people added to the movie as a whole and made it better. What a concept – working as a team to make a movie!

Where I work there is, in giant lettering on the wall, a reminder: “The needs of the patient come first.” To me it emphasizes what we do there isn’t just for a paycheck. It is to remind us that we are part of something bigger, something greater than ourselves. It also reminds us that we are part of a team working for a common cause.  Perhaps the famous Hollywood sign should have a similar sentiment added. Imagine emblazoned on the hillside: “The needs of the Audience come first.”

That is what Ms. Schaffer understood in “Sunset Blvd.”.  That is what so few people making movies these days don’t seem to “get”. Even Norma Desmond understood it. She knew it was her fans that made her great. So, Mr. Verrier, you are wrong.

You reported a story in which you outlined the bleakness of the situation for the screenwriter. You backed it up with facts and figures and quotes. I think you should consider the addition of one word to one sentence. You say: Writers think the crimp in what the studios are willing to pay puts a cramp on creativity since it doesn’t encourage risk-taking. I say: Writers mistakenly think the crimp in what the studios are willing to pay puts a cramp on creativity since it doesn’t encourage risk-taking.

Funny you should say that, as it is risk taking that just happens to be what the audience wants to see.

But, back to what matters the most … and who matters the most; you, the audience – my audience. I have many – many – stories I want to tell you. I just need a hand getting the attention of Hollywood.

Today is my birthday – I’m 50 years old. That happens to be the same age as Norma Desmont in “Sunset Blvd.”. I promise if you will help me I will give you stories you will remember. I know, at 50, I’ve entered the game quite late. But, at least I’m out on the playing field now and I know what goal I am defending. The goal to give to you, the audience, movies you want to see. Help me to live the rest of my life doing just that.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer but I’ve always listened to people say how hard it is to make a living as a writer – people like Mr. Verrier. I don’t care anymore and I’ve wasted far too many years of my life listening to them and, before I die, I want to leave you with something worthwhile. I love movies. I love to watch them – I love to write them. This is my personal journey from being a watcher to a doer. This is me – going from Gloria Swanson to a glorious swansong.

What can you do to help?  Phase one:  IMDb.  http://www.imdb.me/marygodwin

This week I’m up another 104% to 54,410!  Hey!  Don’t knock it, that is up from 2.5 million when I started!  For those of you who don’t know, the rating is based on the number of people searching for me.  Help me get to the top 100.  Help me come out of nowhere and take them by storm! 

See ya at the movies!

I left off my last post with the statement that you can’t write someone else’s story. The bigger question would be; why the heck would you want to? Recently, I tried to do not one, but two, writing assignments  (asinine-ments). 

I responded to an ad looking for a writer for a one woman show. The show’s primary focus was to be on the transgender process. Extremely interesting topic I thought – I can do this. So, I began the information gathering.  First, I studied the nuts and bolts of writing a one person show.  Not too bad.  I had done an Ethical Will before and discovered it was very much the same process.  Then I began to gather specific information.  It went something like this:

 As a man you were a dancer – do you still dance? Do you want to dance in your show?

 “I don’t know.”

As a woman you are a singer – do you want to sing in your show?

“I don’t know.”

You have someone that wants to write music for your show? Background music or will it then make it a musical?

“I don’t know.”

You are an artist now. Do you wish to showcase your art in the show?

“I don’t know.”

Well, at least what length do you wish the show to be?

“I don’t know.”

Do you see a pattern here? Pretty much she was going to “know it when she sees it” yet she saw no problem in that she expected a writer to hit bang on what she was looking for without being able to give direction as to what “it” is. I had to let go of the project. No matter what I did I was told it was “brilliant” “witty” “snarky” but just not what she wanted.

Another opportunity presented itself to me not long after that. A producer, with a hefty amount of IMDb credits to his name, wants to do a remake of a certain film noir. I love film noir and the movie he chose happens to be one of my favorite films of all times. It has been remade twice before – with disastrous results both times. My feeling there is that the storyline itself has a major flaw which was never addressed in the remakes.

That opening scene of the original movie is referred to as “one of cinema’s most innovative opening sequences” and I couldn’t agree more with that. But, for one, that opening scene is contingent upon the storyline flaw itself. Secondly, why not come up with your own superlatively innovative opening sequence if you are going to spend the time, energy, and money in the production? Isn’t that what gets people talking about you and your work? Isn’t that also the stuff of great movies? Otherwise, it is just another regurgitated story. People who shell out money to go to movies demand more respect than that.

I was all excited in thinking someone wanted to finally take this story and fix the flaws - make it into what it could have been all along.  I did a beat sheet of how I thought the story should be outlined and the changes it needed.  I started writing.  Got to page 15 and the producer shut me down.  He complimented my ability as a writer and my story ideas.  But, he said, he just had to keep the opening as it was in the original version.  I told him I didn’t think he and I were on the same page with the project and let it go. 

So, I shall continue to remain true to my own stories and not try to take on an assignment. I’ll challenge any writer who reads this to do the same. Write your own material and market that. Trust yourself and your abilities. That is the genesis of a story which lead to great movies.

Think about it. The audience doesn’t go into a movie with a “beat sheet” and character profiles. Why would anyone think it makes good business sense to sell a movie from that perspective? In real life, the lights dim and the movie unfolds for our customers – the moviegoer. Out of that darkness a story is told. Yeah, trailers do give you a hint of things to come in no way can they be compared to a dissection of the story as it being demanded of modern writers in order to make a sale.

Let the producers start picking up scripts and actually reading them with the same eye as the audience who will be seeing the movie “cold”. I would contend a logline, and maybe a 125 word synopsis, should be all they get before they read. If they don’t like that, let them depend upon the Betty Schaffer’s of the world to read for them. She at least understood a movie should “say a little something”.

When you read a script cold you know then and there if it “works” or not.  You know how you feel when you finish.  Did it tell you all you need to know to keep up with the story or were there gaps?  It is the same way the audience is going to see the movie.  One thing I’ve learned out there in the real world is to listen to my customers.  Might want to give that a try Hollywood.

I work with a woman – we all call her the “dream crusher”. You see, she is perfectly content where she is – doing the job she does. Her work life and her “outside” life are two distinct entities and that is just how she planned her life to be. She gets this moniker from the way she ‘poo-poos’ when others get vaulty ambitions – she tells us we are just pie in the sky dreaming. Okay, I admit, she doesn’t use such a milquetoast phraseology. It is, however, in that; she is very much akin to Richard Verrier of the L.A. Times. 

I was forwarded the July 3, 2010 column of Mr. Verrier: “Screenwriters find work is dwindling.” Now doesn’t that just sound downright ominous? Why, that’s enough to make the faint of heart screenwriter … say … for instance … someone like Mr. Gillis in Sunset Blvd. turn and run. In frustration he bemoans, “Maybe if I hocked all my junk there’d be enough for a bus ticket back to Ohio, back to that thirty-five-dollar-a-week job behind the copy desk of the Dayton Evening Post, if it was still open.” That’s right Mr. Gillis – run back to your safety net – tuck your tail firmly between your legs and get out of there. Hollywood doesn’t need you and it is hacks like you who give the rest of us a bad name. Us, the Betty Schaefer’s of the writing world.

Ah, Ms. Schaefer – that beautiful wide eyed and innocent girl of 21 and already a professional “reader” for a studio. Now, pay attention to this part: she wasn’t a profession screenwriter herself nor was she an unpaid intern either.  What do you mean? She wasn’t even a screenwriter,  yet, a studio executive entrusted her to tell the studio what was “good” – what was worth making. What gave her this power/insight/vision? Simple, she was a moviegoer – a customer of movies. That is what needs to be the driving force of movies – our customers. I conjecture there are few and far between “Ms. Schaefer types” employed by Hollywood these days. We need someone willing to speak up and willing say to the executives: “It’s just a rehash of something that wasn’t very good to begin with.”

Yep, let’s leave the rehash to people like James Cameron – if you’ll permit me to digress off topic for a bit. Mr. Cameron is brilliant with the rehash (maybe I should say “billionant”) with it – if you will pardon me the neologism. He took the Titanic of 1953 and retold it – rehashed it – polished the storyline until it glistened with newness – freshness. Same with Avatar – in essence a retelling of Fern Gulley – he retold the story changing around enough elements and expanding the concept to punch it up. Then there was the bringing it to life with the power of money – money for new technology – money for promotion. Key here is the fact he took something that was pretty good in the first place and made it better he made those stories his own as he retold them.

Now, back on topic. Assignments. Or, as I like to call them asinine-ments. Bottom line is this: You can’t tell someone else’s story … but, I’m going to have to call it an evening with this post and pick up where I left off tomorrow – perhaps. I’ll explain why I think assignments are a poor way to do a creative business.