THE FALLACY OF THE GOOD GUY

When movies are made they often come with a “tag-line.” A line that, in essence, sells the film with a quote or statement.  It piques one’s interest in seeing the movie.  It is on the poster, used in advertising; it’s just another way of selling the movie product.  “In space no one can hear you scream...” is the tagline from the movie “Alien.”  

 "In Space No One Can Hear You Scream"

(technically I don't know if this is true - there's a lot

 of screaming in this film)

A few more:  For “40 Year Old Virgin” – “Better late than never.”  For the film “Oblivion” – “Earth is a memory worth fighting for.”  For the film “Inception” – “Your mind is the scene of the crime.”  Most films have them.  Marketing departments are created to come up with them.  And they’re in other forms of advertising, as well.  “7-UP” the “Uncola” – “Snickers Really Satisfies” –  “Meow Mix – Cats ask for it by name.”  Remember, this is all about selling a product.

 See - tag line.

Recently, at the Conservative Political Action Convention (CPAC) a number of GOP and Conservative speakers were brought forth to talk.  Mitch McConnell carrying a rifle.  Paul Ryan.  Rand Paul.  Sarah Palin and many others.  Brought to create a groundswell of support and rally their base.  Good for them.

 Mitch and weapon.

One of the speakers was Wayne LaPierre, the head of the NRA who came out to speak to the assembled gun loving masses and he used the NRA tagline that has been used quite frequently to justify gun ownership:  “The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun, is a good guy with a gun.”  And, like any tag line, it’s created to sell a product.  This tagline, though, also reinforces something that the NRA and gun supporters want to honestly believe:  That they’re the “good guy.”  That by owning a gun, they can stop the “bad guy” with a gun.  Not only does it sell more guns, but it feels GOOD to the gun owner.  Like, “F*ck yeah, I’m a GOOD guy.  I own a gun.  I can stop a BAD guy.  HA!”  As taglines go – it’s very effective.  I mean, I don’t own a gun so, I guess, I’m not a good guy...right?

From Wayne LaPierre’s 2014 CPAC speech:  “History has proven again the truth that President Obama and anti-freedom activists everywhere deny and try to suppress — the truth that firearms in the hands of good people save lives.”  And later:  “The political elites can’t escape and the darlings of the liberal media can’t change the God-given right of good people to protect themselves.”  Lastly:  “We know, in the world that surrounds us, there are terrorists and home invaders and drug cartels and car-jackers and knock-out gamers and rapers, haters, campus killers, airport killers, shopping mall killers, road-rage killers, and killers who scheme to destroy our country with massive storms of violence against our power grids, or vicious waves of chemicals or disease that could collapse the society that sustains us all.”

  Wayne

But there’s something wrong with this tagline that is not evidently apparent in its simplicity.

As a screenwriter, my task is to create heroes.  (i.e.:  The Good Guy, The Protagonist, The One Everyone Roots For)  My task, if it is to create a hero, it is also, depending on the script, my task to create a villain.  (i.e.:  The Bad Guy, The Antagonist, The One Everyone Hates).  Where does the conflict come from if Luke Skywalker doesn’t fight Darth Vader?  Dorothy v. Wicked Witch of the West?  Harry Potter and Voldemort?

Look!  It's a hero!

But, as a writer, it’s not just easy to create heroes and villains.  It’s not as simple as silver stars v. black hats.  If you make your hero too heroic he’ll come off as bland and boring and the audience will be unable to relate to him.  I mean, I love Superman but he’s kinda boring.  But in the film “Superman 2” when Christopher Reeve’s Superman becomes human – it’s a kick ass story because he’s REAL.  But Superman as a hero with only Kryptonite to kill him?  He is a hero that is, ultimately, boring.

 Superman?  Super boring?

It’s also not easy to create villains.  You don’t necessarily want your villain to be a mustache twirling douche bag that you just can’t wait to see die.  In some ways you need to have the audience UNDERSTAND their villain.  Not root for them, per se, but to understand what motivates them.  What pushes them to do what they do, as heinous as it may be?  As someone so rightly put it:  “The villain is the hero in his own story.”  Or, to put it another way:  “To the Bad Guy, he’s the Good Guy in his own story.”

 Typical villain. 

One of the greatest most recent villains was the villain in the most recent James Bond film “Skyfall.”  Javier Bardem plays Silva that is described as such:  “Raoul Silva is a former MI6 agent who worked for M in Singapore. Silva is a cyberterrorist who is releasing the identities of field agents to seek revenge against MI6. Real name Tiago Rodriguez as disclosed by M.”

 Javier Bardem - Villain?

This guy is, without a doubt, a BAD GUY of the highest order.  And, of course, James Bond is the GOOD GUY.  But as the film unspools (do films even unspool anymore?) we learn that Raoul Silva was left for dead by MI6, that he was poisoned, that he lost his jaw and most of his teeth (in a very heart-wrenching scene).  In other words – he explained very clearly why he was doing what he was doing and, in a lot of ways – it made sense!  As illogical and heinous as his crimes were I could understand where he was coming from.  This villain was, truly, a hero in his mind.  He was the protagonist to James Bond’s antagonist.  In HIS mind Bond is the villain who needs to die a horrible painful death.

 That's gotta hurt.

Back to Wayne LaPierre and the NRA tag line.  “The only way to stop a bad guy with a gun – is a good guy with a gun.”  But then I have to ask:  “WHO is the good guy?”  Who wears the tin star?  Who wears the black hat?  And I’ll posit this theory:  I’ll bet you that for every heinous act of gun violence (or many acts of violence for that matter) that 90% of the people who perform those acts do so out of a sense of their own “good.”  In other words – as much as the crime fits the actions of an insane person – they see themselves as good.

When Sarah Palin puts gun targets over politicians that need to be “targeted” and someone shoots that politician (and many others in the process) isn’t he believing that he is doing some “good?”  Think about the thought process here:  1.  I agree with her.  2.  She puts targets on these people.  3.  I want to do some good.  4.  I’ll shoot this person and anyone who gets in my way.  5.  I’m the good guy.

After Gabby Giffords was shot and many killed

there were people that said that these were not 
"gun sight" targets...sure....

Now all of us with thought, reason and rationale can discern that maybe the person who shot up a theatre in Colorado is crazy.  Or gunned down students on a campus is a nutjob.  But the irrational mind is just that:  irrational.  When I talked to Michelle about people who want to kill themselves even though they truly have a wonderful life (George Bailey!) she says it’s because they’re in such a dark place that they can’t see beyond the darkness.  Just watch any show about hoarding.  To a person the hoarder KNOWS they have a problem, will admit they have a problem and know that they have to do something about the problem but...logic dictates they need to throw out the rat infested moldy breadbox but their illogic dictates that it’s “just fine and needs to be cleaned up a bit.”  And for us who aren’t in their situation it’s maddening – we can so clearly see the mental disorder – why can’t they?

Welcome to "crazy town."

And this isn’t even scratching the surface of religious “good” where if you kill the infidels you go to heaven and get to sleep with virgins.  Those 9/11 attackers?  They believed they were the “good guys.”  That Shoe Bomber?  The guys who bombed the Boston Marathon?  Again – my belief is that, somewhere in these peoples’ heads they were doing some good.  Exacting revenge on a society that beat them down (Columbine).  Standing on principle for a greater good.  Stepping up against “the man.”  Whether its voices in their heads, their religion, their own psychosis, whatever – for some reason they’ve justified their actions in a way that, I believe, makes them think they’re good.  When we all know that they’re not.

Some more recent gun activities:  Soldier shoots up Fort Hood (again).  Man kills some Jews at a Jewish Center in Kansas.  Armed militia has a stand-off with authorities over a man’s persistence on letting his cattle roam and eat on government land.  This last is a perfect example:  “Who are the Good Guys in this situation?  The police and government officials carrying out the orders of the court or the militia who are convinced that the government is lying, working for military contractors, pushing out the “little guy?”  Not so black-and-white, now, is it?

Who's the good guy again?

And that’s why I hate the NRA tagline.  Because underneath the simplicity, what it’s telling people – many of whom shouldn’t own guns in the first place – is that they’re the GOOD GUY and the GOOD GUY stops the BAD GUY.  The line between their protagonist/antagonist mind- set is a thin blurry one.   So who stops the bad guy who truly believes he’s the good guy who’s fighting against the bad guy who is really the good guy?

Let’s take this a step further, shall we?  I challenge that the NRA tagline is actually rationalizing violence.  Isn’t it clear to everyone who just breezes past an NRA website or listen to NRA idols like Ted Nugent who the “bad guys” are?  The NRA actually publishes a “negative” rating for politicians they don’t like.  Well, aren’t those bad guys, too?  Isn’t anyone who dares say anything against the NRA a bad guy?  Now, granted, those bad guys (politicians, reporters, bloggers, etc.) may not be a “bad guy with a gun” – but how has that ever stopped someone bent on doing “good.”  George Zimmerman is a perfect example of this NRA reality.  Here is a supposed good guy going up against a supposed bad guy – a 17 year old kid with Skittles in his pocket who hadn’t done anything wrong but wear a hoodie at night and be black.  In my world view the wannabe cop was the bad guy and the honor student dead kid was the good guy...

Trayvon Martin is dead.  George Zimmerman goes to trade shows and signs autographs to all the other good guys who pack weaponry and wait for the bad guys...or the guys they’re darn certain are bad.

 Good guy?  Bad guy?

I'm inspired by crap.

What inspires art?  What inspires artists?  At what point does one look at something and say: “Oh, yeah, I’m inspired.”  At one point does one recognize something in something else and have that speak to them?

I remember going to see “Raiders of the Lost Ark” on opening night at the Northgate Theatre (now closed).  It was the last day of school, I had no idea what we were going to go see, I really had no concept of even what the idea was.  Sure, I had seen maybe an ad, or two, but nothing sort of struck me as to plot, genre, story-line.  My friend Nathan and I were going in flying blind.

Great movie!!  Sequels, well....

The Northgate theatre had two levels, too, kinda.  It wasn’t so much that it had a balcony, it just had an upper tier that you walked up a few steps and it was a good four feet higher than the section below.  Why is that I remember that we sat in the front row of those seats – with unobstructed view, no heads in front of us – but can’t remember what I had for lunch last Wednesday.  You see, these moments, they kind of kick you in the teeth.

When I walked out of the theatre two hours later I was inspired.  I had witnessed, probably for the 1000^th time, what film could be.  What great story-telling could do.  What worlds you could create.  And I was inspired.  Not to attempt to recreate what I just witnessed, that would be impossible in a lot of ways, but to just...create.

Still, at this point, though, I was a novel writer.  A poet.  An AUTHOR.  And a damn bad one at that.  As my writing shifted towards screenwriting, though, I became a bit, how shall we say it:  jaded.  The idea of story to script to screen seemed farther and farther out of my grasp.  And then layers of reality creep in around that:  “You’re not good enough.”  “The story isn’t structured properly.”  “Too many pages.”  “Wrong font.”  “Who’s the protagonist, antagonist?”  “What about the b-story?”  “You have to live in Los Angeles.”  “You have to have an agent.”  “You have to have a manager.”  “It’s boring.”  “It’s too expensive.”  “No one will make that.”  “What’s the pitch?”

Scary place.  Asks too many questions.

And that’s when I began to be inspired by crap.

When Nicholas was entering another one of his many talented stages – this time drawing – I pulled out a book of collected works of Norman Rockwell.  I loves me some Norman Rockwell.  As many people may call him a sell-out or pap or worse...the paintings that Rockwell did were magical to me in their nuance, detail and poignancy.  They SPOKE to me.

Great detail.  Amazing work.  Wonderful story-telling.

Showing Nicholas some wonderful paintings, they spoke to HIM, too.  He was equally impressed, if not more so, of what Rockwell was able to do.  But Nick’s response was one of:  “Look at the way he drew hands.  I could never draw hands that way.”  It was awe tinged with defeat.  Almost:  “Why bother to draw at all, when I could never draw hands like Rockwell?”  Nick has gone on to do all sorts of wonderful great drawings and, no, he doesn’t try to be Rockwell.  Who could?

Nick's Art

A few weeks ago, a friend on Facebook posted that he needed to be inspired, so he was going to sit down and watch the classic film “The Godfather.”  I responded back that I get inspired by crap.

Great movie.  Great cast.  Great director.

Let me ‘splain.

When it comes to film (and, I’m sure, other mediums) a lot of crap gets made.  Some of it is expensive repulsive crap and some of it is bare-bones down-and-dirty repulsive crap.  But...it’s crap, nonetheless.  And somehow, someway, by hook or by crook, it got made and it got distributed.

All those nagging questions above that seep into my brain, all those that say that I’m not good enough, I can’t accomplish it, that it won’t work, shouldn’t work, couldn’t work – you only have to look as far as a package of films that have fallen into the public domain or watch an episode of “The Best of the Worst” by Red Letter Media and say to yourself:  “Hell, I can do better than that.”  Or, “Hell, I can write better than that.”  Or, “Hell, I can act better than that.”

 Creative reviews of films.  Sometimes language not appropriate.

In the 24 hours after watching the Academy Awards, all those questions, those nagging, annoying, persistent questions rise again.  I’ve written about the Post Award Show Blues before.  It’s simply where I’m seeing in 4 hours of glorious self congratulatory flimflammery where I want to be, compared to where I am now (“You’ll never make it”).  Four hours of the wealthy and beautiful patting each other on the back (“You’re too old!”  “You’re not good enough!”).  Four hours of attention and notoriety and talent and skill and excellence (“Who’s the protagonist?”  “What’s your b-story?”  “Is there a character arc?”).  Four hours of looking at Rockwell’s hands.

I mean, seriously, look at the HANDS!!

 And all this would be muse destructive, if it weren’t for the crap.  All this would destroy my writing soul, if it weren’t for the crap.  All this would be pointless, if it weren’t for the crap.

Tarantino.  I've liked some of his films.  Disliked others.  So sue me.

Director Quentin Tarantino once said that you have to respect every filmmaker for whatever film they make, as bad as it is, because the filmmaker got it made.  They spent the time and energy and money and power and persuasion to get it made.  “The Room” is a cinematic masterpiece when compared to something like “Birdemic.”  And more low-budget filmmakers get churned out every day with iphone in hand and the scribbling of something that resembles a script.

Youtube is the bee hive of slap-dash, make-it-on-the-run, get it out there quickly, see what people think, “I hope it goes viral!” filmmakers.  I’m not talking about them.  I’m talking about people who step up to the plate of filmmaking and see it for what it is:  A challenge to create something and then, send it out to the masses (or figure out a way to do so).  And I’m talking about those willing to sit down and make a feature length film.  A full-on production.  Not 15 minutes of your cat playing with a laser pointer.

The respect I have for filmmakers runs deep, considering that I’m one myself.  But I also found far more inspiration in a film like “Birdemic” than I find in a film like “Titanic.”  (And, please do not take this as a recommendation for “Birdemic” – it’s crap, crap, crappity crap.  It’s not even GOOD crap like “The Room.”)

Please.  Don't bother.  It's terrible.  Trust me..

But...if a completely unredeemable film like “Birdemic” can get made and distributed.  So can mine.  If people want to invest in films like “Robot Monster” or “They Saved Hitler’s Brain” – then maybe I can find investors for mine.   

 Classically bad...in a really good inspiring way.

If my hero Roger Corman can make an amazingly stunning amount of films all around their budget or time frame (“Little Shop of Horrors” was made in three days) than so can I.  I just have to do it.

Yeah, that's right.  I respect this guy so much, he's not even in my dead pool.

There’s another point to watching crap.

Besides the obvious differences of films like “Avatar” and “Titanic” and “Lincoln” and anything with a budget over $20,000,000 – is that watching crap is a learning experience.  You see, blatantly on screen, how weirdly shots are set up.  How bad some amateur acting can be.  How the lighting makes everyone look the same.  How important sound is.  Let me repeat:  HOW IMPORTANT SOUND IS!

What I learn in watching big budget films is:  “How long did it take them to set up that shot?”  “Did they really need a crane?”  “Man, the lighting effect is great, I wonder if they did that in post production?”  “Those clouds aren’t really there.”  What I learn is that big budgets get you lots and lots of toys to play with.  What I learn when I watch low-budget crap is that you get three toys to play with and two are broken.  Go for it!

I’ve talked about love of Public Domain films in a previous blog and it seems weird to think that one might get inspired by crappy films done on the cheap with bad acting, bad directing and bad everything else.  But they got made.  And if they can get made, well then, so can mine.

Rockwell's actual hands....in bronze...I assume....

Meh and the art of Screenwriting

Kinda how I feel right now...

It’s with all honesty that I tell you I’m the closest I’ve ever come to having a film made of one of my screenplays.  Cast members are being lined up (including Eric Roberts), queries have gone out to directors.  An agency wants to partner with us.  Locations are being vetted.  I’ve Skyped with the producer and a couple of the actors.  E-mails, in the thousands, have gone back-and-forth.  Even a website has been created:  http://www.1018movie.com/

And let’s be honest, if honesty is what we’re talking about...  “Neon Jungle” could very well be in production within months or it could be nothing but a pipe dream.  Within months I could be in Vegas toasting with champagne or within months I could be sitting at home watching the Mariner’s lose (again) while crying in my cheap “headache” beer.

I can’t tell you how proud I am of where I am and what I’ve accomplished to get here.  “Neon Jungle” was my first REAL screenplay and here it is on the verge of getting made...and I feel farther from the written word than I’ve felt in a long time.

Writer's block is funny...sometimes.

Why has the muse left me?  Why am I not inspired?  Why has “writer’s block” decided to crash upon my head?  It’s not like I haven’t written (within the past few weeks I had to make substantial changes to “Neon”) and then there’s the “blog” thing – a poor excuse to think that you’re writing when all you’re really doing is just spewing semi-coherent thoughts onto a fake page in a bits-and-bytes universe hoping that someone might read it and “like” it.

Again, it’s not that I haven’t written but, for some reason, my creativity well seems to have dried up and that’s not the bad part.  The bad part is that I’m completely apathetic about it.  It’s like I don’t care that my creativity well has dried up.  Even writing that sentence I find myself saying:  “Meh.”  And everything that has worked in drying that well up has also created a “meh.”

Creativity well....all dried up...and I don't seem to care.

What worked in drying that well up?  Let me count the ways:

1.  My manager:   Well over a year ago I wrote what I thought was a very bankable, enjoyable, ribald (does anyone use that word anymore?) comedy script.  With the success of films like “The Hangover” and “Bridesmaids” and others, there seemed to be an audience for R-rated films that didn’t pull any punches.  So I wrote the script:  “Bad Princesses”.  Once I was done with it, I sent it out to my consortium of writer friends to give me feedback.  These are people whose opinions I trust.  They all had various takes on it and gave me some great feedback.  Changes were made, polish was done, and with an impending trip to L.A. on the verge, I asked my manager to give it a read in hopes that, while I was down there, we could talk about it.  She could tell me what needed to improve or, of course, be so blown away by it; she’d pull in a creative team to get us onto the next steps.  I’d blow off a day at Disneyland to meet with Ryan Gosling (the Disneyland of actors) or Bradley Cooper (the Knott’s Berry Farm of actors).  But a day or two before we left she sent me a terse e-mail:  “Read your script.  Literally hated every word.” 

Ryan Gosling:  "Fantasyland" of acting.

Bradley Cooper:  "Knott's Berry Farm" attraction of acting.

Golly, it’s not every day a person who is supposed to be part of your creative support team sends you an e-mail so full of bullsh*t with so few words.  I mean LITERALLY HATED EVERY WORD?  Really?  Didn’t like the word “phone” on page six?  The word “the” on page 12?  The word “rapscallion” on page 82 (okay, I could see why you’d hate that word)?  But, yeah, BULLSH*T!  Of course, I’m the lowly writer with little or no credits and, obviously, no testicles to call her on it.  Once again it’s the “bow-low-to-the-ground-and-give-all-obeisance-to-thou-that-works-in-Hollywood-because-thou-may-help-me-someday-actually-possibly-maybe-have-a-career-working-with-people-just-like-you” moment.  I take the pill and swallow it, tuck my tail between my legs and wander meekly away.

2.  Gary:   This is a bit of a stretch but Gary and Howard were the first producers on my script “Neon Jungle” and all credit should go to them who changed the name from the stupid “Vegas Dreams” to the great film noir name they gave it.  Last I saw Gary was when he was pointing me out at a pitch meeting – the very meeting I met and attached myself (like moss) to my manager above.  Gary died in 2013.  And though I hadn’t actually talked to Gary in a while (like never), he was one of the weirdest, freakiest people I had ever met.  The fact that he had started a screenwriting college was about the farthest stretch that I could possibly imagine.  After he and Howard had a falling out, Howard and Gary stopped speaking to each other and I could easily see why.  But, here’s the deal:  Gary was universally loved by, seemingly, all who came in the door of his college.  He got major talent to show up and talk about the craft and I could never really understand why, or how.  It wasn’t like Gary wrote a book on screenwriting.  It wasn’t like he had a ton of credits or vast amounts of money.  Was it his weirdness that was the selling point?  And did I have to venture into that realm to get to that point?  Was that worth it?

3.  Howard:  With the impending success of “Neon Jungle” and Gary’s passing, I sent an e-mail or two to Howard to touch base and see how he was doing.  No response whatsoever.  Maybe he was out-of-town.  I finally googled him to see if he was still alive and found photos of him now selling clean water or something.

"I'll read your screenplay if you just.............."

4.  Producer that I don’t know:  Redacted.  Trust me.  It's a great depressing and frustrating story.

5.  “Dancing:”  A few years ago, Keith (co-writer and friend) did something that I don’t recommend:  “Don’t pitch a script idea for a script you haven’t written.”  Well, when Keith was at the Screenwriting Expo he did that very thing.  The pitch went something like this:  “Man suffers from short-term memory loss, ends up falling in love with himself when he goes on a dating website.”  It’s a great pitch and garnered a lot of interest but, again, there was no script.  Keith returned with a “Hey, uh, guess what I did?”  Followed by:  “Think we can write this pretty quickly?”  Oh, uh, sure.  Over the past couple years we’ve written and re-written this script and, though the pitch is wonderfully wonderful, the actual execution has been less than desired.  Finally, in October of 2013, I sat down and did a page-one re-write of the script.  I handed it back off to Keith and our mutual friend Tim to see what they wanted to change.  The biggest issue is that I turned it into a “smaller” script that could possibly done on a budget that we could even possibly come up with.  Tim said he’d get to it in December and, I think, Keith said he’d read through it and give me some notes.  Neither has happened (or, if it’s happened, no one has told me).  And then the film “Her” gets released (about a guy who falls in love with a computer operating system) and I kinda figure that THAT idea is close enough to our idea to, well, compare – even if they’re completely different.  So is our idea sellable anymore?  Do I care?  Meh.

EXACTLY like our script...only different.

6.  “God Monologues:”  A few years ago I came up with a concept for a theatre piece entitled:  “The God Monologues.”  Loosely based around the concept of the “The Vagina Monologues” this would be a collection of stories about people and their relationships/concepts/accepting/rejecting God, or whatever form God is to them.  I pulled in two much more talented people than me: my BFF Jason and my friend Cami (sorry, Cami, only Jason gets the BFF designation).  Jason created a wonderful website so we could pool together hundreds of stories of various types and stripes and give us a huge wonderful group to pull from.  What we quickly found out was that a:  People who had lost and/or rejected God for whatever reason really wanted to tell their story.  b:  People who had found and/or accepted God for whatever reason didn’t want to tell their story.  And by HUNDREDS we, had, maybe, 40.  Still, we persevered and met with some theatre people up in Bellingham, WA and came up with overall great concepts but...life changes and people get busy and things happen and Jason didn’t want to pay for the website anymore (I didn’t blame him) and the project got back-burnered.  I thought, hell, I’ll just write it...but...   Meh.

Yeah, they help "market" your scripts...sure...

7.  “Inktip:” Inktip is a way for people to get their scripts out to the marketplace.  You place your script on their website for six months and/or put it in their magazine and they’ll shop your script and log-line and resume.  I decided to go ahead and put “Bad Princesses” on there after I had put “Search for Santa” on there.  I still believed in the marketability of the script (even if my manager literally hated the word “quickly” on page 42).  I spent good hard-earned money on this and got, literally (there’s that word again), no credible response.  Nothing.  Nada.  Zip.  Not for “Santa” and not for “Princesses.”  Meh.  

Which leads to:  8.  Annoying Screenwriting SPAM E-mails:  Along with the “twice-a-week” e-mails from Inktip (encouraging me to spend MORE money) I get dozens of e-mails a week from other pitch groups, screenwriting companies that think they have the simplest way of getting your script sold, up-coming pitch sessions, etc. etc. etc.  It’s insulting.  I’m so very tired of seeing:  “SELL YOUR SCRIPT TO HOLLYWOOD!!” in the subject line.  I don’t unsubscribe because there’s still a little part of me that thinks that maybe one of these will actually work.  Logic tells me not to believe that.  The Dreamer part of me tells me to keep getting them.  I think Logic is going to kick Dreamer’s ass from here to Yakima.

"Hello?  Anyone there?  Hello?  Anyone want to

learn about the three-act structure?"

9.  Apathetic Students:  I teach beginning screenwriting at “Seattle Central Community College” and have taught there for years.  Sadly, these past three quarters, I have not had enough students to teach my class.  It’s in these wonderful class sessions where I’m able to inspire, brain-storm, get those creative juices really flowing and it’s something that I thoroughly enjoy from the bottom of my muse empty well of creativity.  (Note:  A couple years ago, I created an on-line screenwriting class which has been viewed by a number of people.  No one e-mails me or asks me questions from the on-line series.  So I feel like not only am I not teaching LITERALLY, I’m not teaching VIRTUALLY.)

10.  Seahawks and the Super Bowl:  It’s hard to think about script ideas and formatting issues when in the back of your mind you’re thinking of match-ups between Denver’s wide receivers and the Seahawk’s secondary.  I’ve waited 8 years for the next Seahawk Super Bowl and have suffered through many a crappy season and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to give a certain amount of brain cells the ability to fully enjoy this event.

11.  Loss of Co-worker:  Early in 2014 my co-worker was laid-off, out of the blue.  No warning.  Typically it’s moments like these where I re-group and re-focus on the importance of what I want to do with my life and my goals and dreams.  This time?  Meh.

12.  2014:  In the year 2014 I turn 50.  Maybe I’m getting too old for this writing crap?

Uh, no.

The simple reality of all this, is that though I feel the well is dried up and I can’t get the energy to write...I’m still on the cusp of getting a film made.  And I know that the well will fill again.  I know that the reality of my own passions and desire will rise.  When?  How much?  Who knows.  I’ve got access to great equipment, I can make my own film or shorts.  My son is one of the most talented editors/film-makers that I know.

The future, as “meh” filled as it is right now is certainly bright and I’ve been here before, just not as apathetic as I feel right now.

Uh, not this, either.