Kim J's Cinerama Drama

mood: busy

So Allan Loeb, writer of "Things We Lost In the Fire" and "21," gave some advice in a recent The Black List interview. I thought I'd repost his words here because they make absolute and total sense for both those aspiring in his field and anyone else who wants to work in the literary world:

"My advice to anybody trying to make it on the list is the same advice I give to all trying to make it writing for Hollywood:

A) They will make you rewrite it. All of it. All the time. Even what they loved yesterday. Get over it. Write poetry if you want to be precious.
B) Don't write a script because you're an actor hungry for a good part, don't write a script because you've got what you think is the best idea ever, don't write a script because you think it'll be easy money -- write a script because you want to dedicate your life to becoming a screenwriter. Anything less than that will fail.
C) Marathon not sprint. Process not result. Get better with each one and everything else will come eventually."

Tags: career, script

Posted at 07:03 am | Link | Leave a comment | 8 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: calm

I've been lax in reporting the horror movie that is my job as of late. October was more boredom than train-wreck, which is often worse. At least with the train wrecks, you have something to ogle and be amused at. When something is just 'same old/same old,' I often want to poke my own eyes out with a protractor.

The worst part about October was this script that's been going back and forth between me and the two stubborn-as-mules assholes for writers since I first worked at the company. I've gone through six - count 'em - SIX drafts over five years with the mo' fos and they STILL refuse to make any changes. And the subject of the story? The murder of Emmett Till - an African American boy who was brutally killed in Mississippi and incited civil rights leader Medgar Evers and journalist John Chancellor to join in the fight against Jim Crow laws. These bullheaded egomanical pricks (the writers, not the historical figures) are so bent on doing things their way, but the person I'm really pissed at is their agent. He 'hip pockets' these two writers (which is lingo for "I'll be invested in your work the moment it sells but not before, so I'm keeping you in my hip pocket") and I have no idea if he even reads their drafts or just gives them to me to lambaste every time (in my own polite way). The point is: why placate them and have them waste all our time? Either tell them to change their script or get lost. My opinion hasn't changed in 5 years; it's not going to magically change now for no fucking reason. If I get the seventh draft like clockwork next year, I'm tempted to tell my boss to give the fucker to someone else. It's an insult to any level of anyone's intelligence. And that agent needs to drown in his own infinity swimming pool.

The good news is that The Black List came out and number 55 is something I discovered. The Black List is a compilation of all the best un-produced scripts of the year as voted on by top level assistants and executives. Hollywood uses it as a way to look at all the talent that year that *almost* made it. Sometimes it has the potential to catapult someone into being hired to pen someone else's idea and get work. Sometimes it gets their script made. Anyway, the script is "I Hope We Can Still Be Friends" by John Whittington - a piece I read in June that got passed around to Julia Roberts and Tom Hanks. It's a very funny rom com that's a reversal on When Harry Met Sally; can exes be friends? I hope it gets made this year.

October

Good: 1
Bad: 6
Meh: 9

November

Good: 1
Bad: 6
Meh: 4

And now it's off to the mall for Xmas shopping and stocking up on licorice jelly beans. Yum.

Tags: career, script

Posted at 09:04 am | Link | Leave a comment | 6 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: chipper

Well, I did it!  Even though I have about three J/C fics pending *hangs head*, this one didn't end up being an epic.  Call it a palate cleanser.

I haven't published anything J/C since.....?  Wow.  June.

Many thanks to liselem for being so generous and giving of her time, her brain, herself.  Maquis Chakotay as a 'newbie' - this is post-Caretaker:

Rebel Without A Cause

Tags: j/c fanfic, voyager

Posted at 07:04 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 4 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: exhausted

I've been inundated with work - not so much sheer volume this time, but sheer boredom.  Ennui is a big energy sapper.  I'm not really sure why my company accepts material from people who can barely spell, let alone craft a story or three-dimensional characters.  Everything I've gotten has been 'tagged' for me, but it's difficult to assess what my boss thinks my strengths are.  I usually get stuck with thrillers if they aren't Asian themed or written by Asian authors.  I'm assuming that she thinks I'm good at finding plot holes (and I am), but sometimes I get the weirdest crap.  To which I then assume she hates the agent's assistant that week and is siccing my pit bullish comments on them as punishment.

I've written so much high-brow "flaming" this past month, I'm kind of exhausted.  There's only so much negativity one can dish out.  I hate to hate everything.  I'd so love to champion at least one script a month, but August left me a bit depressed.  Most story analysts love to be critical - as though harshing on someone's mellow is high art and elevates their ego.  But I'm the kind of person who wants to be a writer's cheerleader, not a critic.  But I get the feeling from some of the scripts that I keep rereading over and over (without ANY changes that were suggested before) that there is a segment of writers who feel entitled to be seen as great without really earning it or listening to specific criticism.

People refuse to admit that they don't know everything.  And they refuse to learn.  I've been doing this job for five years and the first thing I learned is that no one is born a good writer.  The second thing I learned is that even the best writers make plot or character mistakes.  Honing a craft takes extreme humility, self awareness and patience.  There is no room for entitlement because no matter how highly you think of yourself, the proof is on the page.  If you can't deliver, there is no use trying to pass yourself off as an expert in anything.

Good:  2
Bad:  4
Middling:  2

The best script that month was a feel-good feminist comedy that made surprising use of the Barbie brand.  The other one was a "Wall Street"-ish take on the 1980s New Wave scene in New York City that had elements of "Dangerous Liaisons."  The worst script was a hormonal action comedy that was an insult to my intelligence; it makes you wonder if this writer did something unseemly for the agent to get his script in the pile.  The most heinous script was a mystery thriller where a writer thought he could lace a bunch of convoluted red herrings within several alternate realities and fool the reader into thinking he was super smart.  No, asshole.  An ounce of pretention is worth a pile of manure.

But the saddest script (from the middling pile - which usually translates to 'good idea, but problematic execution') was one that chronicled the kidnapping of good-hearted, non-materialistic John Paul Getty III and how his uber-rich relatives refused to go against his oil tycoon grandfather and pay his ransom.  For those of you who don't know, his free-spirited penniless mother was his only champion, but by the time she figured out a way to appeal to her heartless, greedy father in law, her son had lost an ear and would live his entire life traumatized before dying of a drug overdose.

Is it too much to ask for something uplifting to read?

Tags: career, script

Posted at 09:04 am | Link | Leave a comment | 1 comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: rushed

In between ridiculous amounts of work, I keep up with my Rafael Nadal interests and found this (forgive the Whitney Houston song, I didn't make the video):



Rafa's so sweet.  Sigh.  Back to script slogging.

Tags: rafa

Posted at 03:51 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 3 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: giddy

While futzing around, I stumbled upon a trailer for upcoming movie, "Motherhood," with Uma Thurman in the starring role.  I saw the title and thought it looked familiar.  Turns out I read the script in June 2007.  I read it for Sandra Bullock, but I guess she turned it down.  But the same agent for Bullock took it and gave it to his other client, Ms. Thurman!  Anthony Edwards plays her husband, and he's also a client of the agency I work for.  And the producer/director is also repped by the same agency, come to think of it.

So it's a quadruple win for me in terms of finding material for clients!  I'm really, really jazzed because sometimes, the script is sent to a different agency.  I love when something I read and recommend gets made but it's icing on the cake when the cast is filled with the company's clients that I'm reading it for.  It means they trust my judgment.

The movie will have a limited release in mid-October.  Here's the trailer:

Tags: career, script

Posted at 05:41 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 4 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: thoughtful

Fox Television premiered a reality show "More To Love," which is a "Bachelor" type competitive dating concept - but with a 'husky' hero looking for love with plus-sized women.  Now I haven't seen the show at all and for all I know, it could be good, but what struck me was this:  does society believe that similar people should stick together and not go outside their group, so to speak?  In other words, are the producers telling us that only horizontally challenged men can date big-boned women?

I really hope not.  But it does reinforce some pretty big stereotypes.  There was a time when racism was like this, too.  In college, I remember driving with my Caucasian boyfriend down to Hilton Head and getting stares from everyone - something we never got while living in New Jersey.  We kept repeatedly bumping into an interracial couple (he was African-American, she was Caucasian) and we ended up striking up a friendship while on holiday.  Why?  Because in South Carolina at that time, we appeared to be the only interracial couples in a ten-mile radius of the beach.

Society - hopefully - has changed for the better now.  But not much.  Just because we have an African-American President doesn't mean that racism no longer exists.  Now here's something.  One of my best friends lives a good majority of her life in a wheelchair.  I had a feeling that when we met and hit it off, that I would have to spend a great deal of time trying to defend our friendship.  I was right.  But it's not obvious to anyone unless you've dealt with degrees of discrimination yourself.

I think there's a purveying assumption that disabled people should only be friends with other disabled people.  Any other pairing up is regarded as one-sided, at best and undeserving, at worst.  It's not something I made up; it's actually something she has come across on her own before we met.  There's no way one can prove to anyone else the level of friendship we have because there will always be the assumption that I must pity her, that I think she's a perfect angel, that I have a Mother Teresa complex.  No.  The only major difference between us is that my legs work and hers don't.

We fight on a regular basis - like sisters often do - but it's never a deal breaker.  She has a right to assert herself and conversely, I don't let her get away with anything.  I encourage her to put herself out there as much as she does with me.  So it's very equal.  People assume that she gets whatever she wants, but she rarely does.  She always puts herself last.  In the beginning, our misunderstandings had to do with preconceived notions on my part that had to do with past baggage regarding friendships.  A miscommunication would be regarded as a manipulation.  But I've learned - through our mutual care and patience with each other -  that her intentions are always good.  I trust that.  She has never given me reason not to.

Neither one of us can quite believe that this friendship exists.  And it saddens us when people don't accept it - either through consistently putting ourselves out there or at face value.  I realize that it's more about the cynicism inherent in the social construct.  Like attracts like.  We're not supposed to be friends, to be as close as sisters would be.  And I think people who are used to seeing the disabled only with the disabled and the Asian with only the Asian will always - no matter the reason - have a problem with it.

My son has autism and his best friend has autism.  My hope is that one day, it won't matter - that he'll be able to make friends regardless of his setbacks or theirs.  And if he never was one half of an 'odd couple,' I would hope that I could keep from becoming part of the cynicism that's in the undercurrent of our society.

Tags: friendship

Posted at 06:42 am | Link | Leave a comment | 1 comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: chipper

Two bands I love - Pugwash and The Divine Comedy - have collaborated on a concept album about the sport, of all things.  Mr. Kim J is playing it right now and it's really good.

The Duckworth Lewis Method

Tags: cricket, music

Posted at 06:16 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 6 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: sick

All right.  Everyone knows by now that I critique scripts for a living.  I also tend to be a big snooty ass about movies.  And I suppose everyone's pretty familiar with the Twilight movie/book series that's become a crazy tween/teen phenomenon.  Back when the movie was in the theaters, I went to see it with Mr. Kim J, expecting it to be good.

IMHO, it sucked.  But this is according to my thirty-something mind - after years and years of watching film.

I had to put myself in the same mindset as someone much younger, who perhaps hadn't seen that much cinema, read that much literature and whose tastes were less developed.  On the ride home, Mr. Kim J shrugged off my mystified reaction and chalked it up to a high brow teen movie - certainly better than Superbad (which is really for adults), but nothing approaching anything in the Harry Potter films (which are for kids and adults).  I've since rationalized that the Twilight series is crafted for the appropriate age group and doesn't deign to be inclusionary like other material that is put in a high school setting.  The kids don't speak as though they're wiseacres in their 40s from a Woody Allen movie.  It's just for them.  And that, I've learned - if done well within that scope - is more than okay.

So the fact that I can't wait to see "New Moon," the second installment in the series, on November 20th is so fucking not my fault.  When I wrote my J/C Academy fic and corimariee , Cheshire and I were musing about who we could use as a young Chakotay for the banner and video respectively, I did a pretty big search for Hispanic and Native American actors in the teen to mid 20s range.  We settled on Mario Lopez (his dimples lined up perfectly), but despite being a dead ringer for a young Chak, the actor himself and his work (mostly cocky stereotypes) left me cold.

So it's through this that I stumbled across Taylor Lautner, who plays 'Jacob Black,' the werewolf rival to Robert Pattinson's vampire 'Edward' in their affection for the human heroine.  Edward is clearly the favorite, but I'm Team Jacob all the way:



I have no idea why I flaked on his appearance in the first film.  Maybe I was just obsessing on how this just wasn't my demographic being catered to.  But the boy is hawt.  I'm so embarrassed.

So while I lie here (trying to get over a strange reaction to vitamins - I've been vomiting up all morning and afternoon), I've been Googling my fill of Lautner and everything 'Jacob.'  Including the youtube vid from yesterday's Comic Con showing of "New Moon" footage.  And yes, I drooled when the boy took off his shirt and in bad fanfic fashion used it to daub at the blood from the heroine's head following a motorcycle fall.

Oh, the lies I'm going to have to tell Mr. Kim J in November so that he'll take me to the movie.  I think the vitamins have affected my brains as well as my stomach.  Sigh. 

Tags: eye candy, film

Posted at 03:49 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 2 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: amused

The Mister, Junior and I went to see the Beatles tribute band "The Fab Four" at the Arboretum yesterday and it was a mixture of class, fun and well...an interesting incident.

The Arboretum is one of several botanical gardens in L.A. that double as a Hollywood Bowl like orchestral arena.  You have the choice of either buying the seats in front, in which you share a circular table for ten or bring your own picnic blanket and sit on the lawn far back.  We did the lawn deal last year and made use of Mister's company gift he got from his agent - a backpack chock full of utensils, plates, a cheese board, plastic wine glasses, a cooling compartment, corkscrew, wine bottle holder, etc.

But this year, Junior is heavily into the Beatles and the California Philharmonic Festival on the Green was doing a "Basically Beatles" collaboration with The Fab Four. (I think I have 'Yellow Submarine' playing on permanent repeat in my head, thanks to the tyke.  As long as he's not screaming "Why don't we do it in the road" at the top of his lungs with the windows open at 6 am, we're safe.  Count your blessings, I always say.)  So Mister bought the table seats and we brought the requisite two cheeses - a blue, a cheddar - some truffle pate, crackers, an assortment of green olives, those fancy-schmancy almonds, candied walnuts and some spreadable raw honeycomb.  Junior loves cheese (even gorgonzola, the expensive date he's going to be) and we was happy as pigs in shit while sitting around eating and waiting for the conductor to get through some opening numbers - some Bach, some La Cage Aux Folles.  I was nervous that Junior would talk a lot (and loudly) during the music, but despite not knowing past Bach, he was very, very well-behaved.

Then the conductor introduced a local composer and announced that tonight, they were performing the world premiere of his first symphony - a real, American one.  And Junior sat still and was quiet for that.  Not so much the ten ladies sitting at the table to our right.  Now, I was sitting behind my husband and at some point, he turned and shushed them.  Not loudly.  Just enough to be heard by them alone.  They went dead quiet, but you could tell that they were not happy at being 'told' what to do.  Still, I agreed with him. It was rude.  And I was surprised, too.  Mister is not one for confrontation or correcting anyone in public, but he's also an avid fan and lover of orchestral music.

The Fab Four were fabu.  No doubt about that.  So it surprised me even more what happened in between the second to last and very last song.  The conductor came out and was acknowledging various people and thanking us for coming.  For the first time that night, Junior asked my husband a question about what he'd seen.  Suddenly, one of the women at the neighboring table spat out "SHHHH!  SHHH!" and looked at one of her friends as though mentally high-fiving her.

Oh no, she didn't.

So when the song was done and people on the left of us were gone, I got up and loudly told Mister (who hadn't noticed anything) what happened.  Of course, the women glared at me.  I glared back.  "Don't you dare tell my son to shut up."  The stupid cow opened her mouth and whined, "But he told us to shut up!"  I just stared daggers and said, "You were talking during the world premiere of someone's symphony.  That's disrespectful.  And now, you're slapping yourself on the back for getting one over on a six year old.  Tell your parents, I'm sure they'd be proud."

And we left.  I think my little bit there at the end was a turn on for the Mister.

But that's unpostable.

Tags: bow chicka bow wow, l.a. shit, stupid shit

Posted at 08:30 am | Link | Leave a comment | 7 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

Posted at 11:12 am | Link | Leave a comment | 8 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: apathetic

Good news:  Read another primo romantic comedy today!

Bad news:  Absence may not make the heart grow fonder, but at least it gives me a break from being taken for granted.

Tags: career, friendship, script

Posted at 04:21 pm | Link | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: chipper

I keep getting script revisions where the writers don't change squat.  What goes through their minds, I wonder?  Do they think I'll just wake up one morning and say, "Wow!  That polished turd looks so appetizing!  I think I'll have me a bite, today!  Yum!"  Story analysts are like elephants; we remember every script we read.  I can even tell when they've changed first names of characters - just to see if I read the whole damn thing again.  Yeah, no.  Not foolin' me, buster.

June was crazy stupid enough for me to widen the categories, only because I got one of the best romantic comedies I've read in years and don't want to put it in with the others.  The month was filled with comedies in general - neighbors fighting over driveway space, CIA operatives switching hypnotist prescriptions with mid-level ad exec scared of cats, and a modern day retelling of Sleeping Beauty where she pricks her finger on a DJ turntable's needle.  If you're going "Wtf?" join the party:

Awesome:  1
Middling:  3
Diddling:  7

Date night with the Mister has been consistently good for the past four or five turns - as long as he picks the movies we see.  Yesterday we watched The Hurt Locker, the newest Kathryn Bigelow film (of Point Break fame - Zods, I quote lines from that movie all the time) that is the most apolitical, non-jingoistic Iraq War movie I've been exposed to in ages.  And I read a lot of scripts about it.  

It's about the daily life of soldiers who diffuse bombs of every kind.  The film is ironically about doing everything so that things don't blow up.  And she's smart enough to cast relatively unknowns in the starring roles - which is what you should do if you really want to honor soldiers in a meaningful manner.  Jeremy Renner is a poor man's Daniel Craig, and I'm rooting for him to be nominated for an Oscar for his performance.  

And all in all, I love the fact that a woman director helmed this all-male movie; when a smart female puts her stamp on action films, you can be sure that the necessary testosterone will be in balance with the heart of humanity - whether it be about man, woman, black or white.  Just ask Judd Apatow, the new King of Comedy.  He freely acknowledges comedienne wife Leslie Mann for helping him rewrite his stuff to have more heart, less jizz.

So here's to the talented women in Hollywood.  As Gary Busey's character would say in Point Break:  "I don't know whether to scratch my watch or wind my butt."

Tags: career, film, script

Posted at 08:36 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: chipper

Fuck, yes.  I am on page 86 of a 104 page script that makes me wanna weep with joy.  Keep in mind that I am so jaded regarding romantic comedies, I'd happily spoon out my eyeballs if I have to read another formulaic piece o' polished turd.

But this is heaven and I wish I could share, but this writer is MINE, ALL MINE to rave about to the agent!  You have no idea how happy it makes me to recommend a comedy writer at this stage in the game.  I can finally get off the stoop and stop watching the tumbleweeds roll by.

Oh and, eenie, memey, mimey, mo:

If there is one person or more on your friends list who makes your world a better place just because they exist and who you would not have met (in real life or not) without the internet, then post this same sentence in your journal.

Yup, too many to count.  And thank Zod for all of you.

Tags: career, friendship, script

Posted at 09:48 am | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: exhausted

Hey, all.  So I've got it up:

http://fictioning.net/viewstory.php?sid=188

Happy reading.  :-)

Tags: fanfiction, voyager, writing

Posted at 12:45 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 2 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: ecstatic

So I finished splv 's belated birthday fic epic!  Yahooo!  It's a total of 128 pages in eight chapters.  I am so glad to be done just so that the voices in my head can stop telling me what the characters need to say.  Seriously.  It's bad when you're at your kid's school, a piece of dialogue/banter enters your brain and you have nowhere to put it, the teacher's late to getting the kiddos inside....argh!!!!

But I'm done.  Need to get it to the betas, send a copy to splv and then post on VAMB.  Ai chihuahua.

Me deserves a Sazerac, dammit.  And if canadianfolk  were here for me to toast her on completing her 5K, I'd make her a caipirinha.  Yes, we rawk.

Tags: fanfiction, writing

Posted at 04:22 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 5 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: aggravated

Does anyone have an air horn I can borrow?

If I have to pick up the phone one more time to someone who obviously has the wrong number and asks, "Who is this?" (or the ever-popular equivalent, "Who 'dis?")  I'm gonna tear off my ear and eat it.   Whatever happened to "Hello.  May I speak to so-and-so?" followed by "Oh, I'm sorry; I have the wrong number."  For the former, I've actually had people call me back after I've hung up and been accused of being in flagrante delicto with their boyfriend who apparently owns this telephone number, not me.  Yeah, cause this person knows better.  Right. 

So I plan to fire off an air horn (those annoying things fans let go off during baseball games) into the ear of anyone who does that to me again.  Better them going deaf than me eating my ear.

Okay, back to script slogging.  You've been warned.

Tags: stupid shit

Posted at 04:28 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 4 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

mood: nerdy

It was a pretty ho-hum month overall.  A lot of scripts were in that "how unimaginative" category of meh.  How can you make an action thriller about gamers exciting if the hero is already too good-looking, too fit and thus has no journey?  How about an episodic account of a punk rock band - a band with players who are already good ?  How about an apocalyptic romantic comedy in which the boy hardly has to do a thing and has the girl by the end of Act One?  Or a Western where the kid trying to exact vengeance on an outlaw is so frickin' lucky with a rifle that after two Acts of being a clumsy dude suddenly gets his man without earning it by the end?

Yeah, it's the month of script writers not really trying and it's frustrating.

Out of the ones I liked was a dry dark comedy set in 1980s middle school written by a known comedian, a drama about a good-hearted cross-dresser trying to get over a dark past, a comedy that needs to be reined in regarding an over-the-top plot, but is funny (which is hard to do), and a skillfully written actioner by a writer I discovered.

Passable:  4
Regrettable:  10

Amidst all this, I'm brain deep in trying to finish splv 's monstrous birthday Academy fic.  I'm on page 74 and I truly thought it was going to end about twenty pages ago and in three parts.  Who was I kidding?  corimariee  gets to gloat that she was right all this time - that's it's probably going to be an epic 100 - in seven parts.  I'm so screwed until I get this done because I can't think like a normal person in the meantime.  I don't think I've ever put so much into a fic before and I just don't want to rush it.  Still, I want my life back!!!

What's amusing is that I've basically become the biggest Trekkie ever in the process.  Why do I care about the Voyager schematics?  I wanted to hit myself when I was looking at star maps the other day to figure out where Romulus was in conjunction with the Cardassian Empire.  Of course, this means corimariee has decided to get me both the Voyager encyclopedia and a star map of the Alpha, Beta, Gamma and Delta Quadrants.  My home office already has the Janeway bust mug, a Doctor ornament, a VAMB mug and a mini Voyager.  The shrine is accumulating.  Oh well, at least my husband thinks it's cute.  Scary, but cute.

Tags: career, fanfiction, script, writing

Posted at 07:35 am | Link | Leave a comment | 8 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Starfleet Academy

mood: mellow

music: don't change your plans for me...

I heart Ryan Murphy.

The openly-gay writer/creator for one of my favorite TV shows Nip/Tuck (which stars alpha-male Aussie hottie Julian McMahon *rowr*), has just come out with Glee, a dark sit-com about a high school glee club.  It's all colors of the rainbow fairy bread of awesome and so funny.  Mr. Kim J and I watched the pilot and we both think it's so genius.  They're only showing the first episode now and saving the entire series for September and on.  That RM is a tease, I tell you.  Here's the link to watch it online on Hulu (you have to register and download the player, but it's worth it):

http://www.hulu.com/glee

In other developments, my muse is having tons of fun with splv 's birthday fic.  The Spring Fling I did was so dark that I was looking forward to something comedic - something I could just let loose on.  And it seems to be making my muse happy, which is a relief.

Of course, I have only one day left to get it out on time.  Either way, I hope she's having an awesome time with her sis and has a wonderful day.

 

Tags: fanfiction, television, writing

Posted at 10:03 am | Link | Leave a comment | 1 comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Parents'

mood: drained

music: You just call out my name...

 La, la, la, la.  Yeah.  Not having fun with VAMB's Spring Fling.  Without revealing anything, I'll have you know it's dark.  I don't know about anyone else's muse but mine's broke lately.

I finished up script coverage yesterday for the mid-month pay period.  I worked the 40 max hours and can rest until Monday.  Why does everyone have to write a martial arts chop-socky?  And why must every Asian female character be either a whore or a Dragon Lady?  Gadzooks, it reminds me of this ridiculous guy friend of mine who loved to go to Comicon every year to pick up chicks in cosplay.  Speaking of whores, I had to slog through a 400 page tome about a sex-addict LAPD detective tracking down a serial killer who wants him to be his "soul brother."  Yeah.  So you can see why my muse is probably not in the mood for dark fic.

Not that I want to write fluff.  So in the meantime, I distract myself with youtube vids, fighting with Huffington Post writers about various things that they are just WRONG about (i.e., the new Star Trek movie for one), daydreaming about a Spock/Uhura PWP for canadianfolk  and having fun with audabee  and her fun icons!

Five more days.  Out, damn smut, out. 

Tags: career, fanfiction, script

Posted at 04:20 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 1 comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend