A dream deferred...

This morning Angela and I sat down at the table with coffee and the paper. She had to go to a Professional Development training downtown and got to leave later than normal so we took advantage (we never make coffee on weekdays). I read our horoscopes out loud and immediately, Angela yelped when I read mine. (See above, from the LA Times today)

Why? you might ask. Well, to put it simply, the pilot is not happening.

There will be no filming this summer in Michigan (well, I'll probably film the grandneighbors incessantly on my iPhone).

That's it. Another Hollywood deal that fell through. There's no huge scandal. And yes, I'm embarrassed and sad. But also, I'm okay. Really, I'm okay.

Everything happened so quickly. And I got excited so I blogged about it all. Because that's what I do. I write. I write to understand, to figure things out, to make sense of the world. I write. And so I did. And then I wish I hadn't. But...then again, no I don't.

I love that I have so many people out there in the world who care about me, support me, and want me to succeed at everything. I am so blessed by the people in my life. Every single one of you. I can't truly express that enough.

I love how excited you are for me. How interested you are in my really quite uneventful life. I love how invested we are in being a part of one another and our worlds. I LOVE THAT.

And so, I wanted to tell you all that the pilot isn't happening. Not now.

I have no idea what's next. Well. That's not true. I do know what's next.

I'm writing two movie scripts back to back. I love them both. I'm having a blast with them. Then I'm going to write a new pilot. Set in the world of women's golf. Um, yep, I'm going to use my Michigan vacation as "research" for that one. FORE!

And I've gotten the old band back together. My writers group, FOS, reconvened on Sunday for the first time in over a year and a half. And it was awesome. It was as if no time had passed at all. I got great notes, got to hang out with my friends, new and old, and just be a writer. That was fabulous.

So again, thank you all for being in my corner. Always. Trust me, every single one of your likes and comments and texts and phone calls lifts me up and keeps me going every single day. I am one lucky, lucky girl.

And....ACTION!

Me working on Sonora's webseries

Back in December a really cool thing happened. We had a staged reading of my sitcom PREGNANT OR NOT HERE WE COME. It was amazing. It was a night I'll never forget (even though a lot of it is a heart-pounding too loud to hear much blur). And then Christmas happened and New Years and I have a DVD that's not the sound quality to show people and then that's it. Nothing else happened.

Hollywood's a tough town. I have a sign on my wall next to my computer that says, "Hollywood has high walls but there are gates." Below it is written, "What are my gates." The answer? I don't know.

I've been scaling the walls for years. YEARS. I've been working and strengthening myself and working and preparing for the moment I go over. If you can ever prepare for such a thing. I've been hunting and planning and tracking the gates but they seem to move. Write a spec script of a show that's currently on the air. Write a pilot. Write a screenplay. Write a play. Write a sketch. Make a webseries. Get a job. Do work for free.

It's a lot to navigate. There's no one path that leads to being a screenwriting, a television, or even just any type of writer. Every single person in Hollywood has a different story on how she or he broke in. Every. Single. Person.

And so last December my friends and I decided to try our own way. Build a new road. We did the staged reading. And yet? The path was blocked. The road ended.

But...we didn't want it to end. We wanted it to keep going. We all had such a great time that night, and the weeks leading up to that night. Working like crazy to pull it off. Preparing and rehearsing and writing. I loved every crazy minute of it. I loved working with all these great people, meeting new people, seeing actors perform my story on a stage. Amazing.

And then, I went back to my regularly scheduled life. In January I sat back down at my desk and started writing. Other things. I rewrote my one-hour pilots. Now I'm working on a couple of screenplays. I wrote a treatment to be pitched to a production company. And while it's all forward movement, it's not enough for me. Not now. Not since I've had a taste of what the other side is like. The fun, working with people to bring my stories to life side.

And so, Monday morning when I sat on Sonora's (my amazing producer of the staged reading) porch and ate an orange and lamented about how I didn't want PREGNANT to die, I had this crazy idea that I was scared to tell her. And yet? I did anyway. I told her I wanted to make something. For the first time since I moved out here I have a desire to move away from the keyboard and onto a stage or behind a camera or anything other than just sit behind the keyboard.

So together, in one of those excited, heart pounding moments where you literally feel like jumping up and down, we decided to produce and film the pilot of PREGNANT OR NOT HERE WE COME.

Yes, it's true. All the gurus in Hollywood say don't make a pilot. In fact, just THE DAY BEFORE I had been listening to my beloved John August and Craig Mazin on their Scriptnotes podcast telling "the new billionaire in Hollywood" to spend his or her imaginary money making movies, making music or making a broadway show. They implicitly said, don't make a pilot. They did say make a series though. And so, I'll ask forgiveness not permission on this one.

I know it's a crazy idea. I've never made anything before like this. But Sonora has. She's made an award-winning webseries. She's been in a ton of movies and on a ton of television shows. She knows how to get shit done. And so, together, with Dasha and Angela, we're going to do this.

But here's the cool thing: We're not going to do it alone. It can't just be the two of us, or even the four of us. It has to be an all-in, everyone is our biggest cheerleader-type of thing. We need you. All of you. I need you. I need my family and my friends and my peers and everyone to help me do this really cool thing. And I'm not just talking money (though trust me, there's one of those dreaded Kickstarter emails coming your way soon, I know, I know, we all feel the same way in this town, but it's how shit gets done). I'm talking love and energy and coming to the screenings once it's done and tweeting about it and Facebooking about it and reminding me when I'm in the thick of it how awesome it is and how awesome it will be. Because life is too hard alone. Way too hard.

Monday morning after this very quick and life-changing (well, maybe, we'll see) decision was made I was shaking I was so excited. And terrified. So so terrified. I called my parents on the drive home and can I just say, I have the coolest parents around. Without even a second's hesitation they were like, that makes sense, what do we do, do we need to paint, will people like the food I make, we'll sleep at Jenny and Andy's so Sonora can have our bedroom. I'm serious. That's what happened FIRST. Coolest. Parents. Ever.

So yeah, that's a detail - we're going to shoot the pilot in Michigan. In Howell and Detroit because well, it's set in Detroit. And because I have people there. We'll shoot in my parents' house, in a local parking lot and hopefully a local bar. It's a 22-minute pilot with four lead actors and all but one scene is set inside. We can do this. It will be amazing. It will be. I promise.

We already have the amazing Ashlie Atkinson (coming soon to a TV near you on FOX's US AND THEM) committed to be the lead. Knowing she wanted this story to continue to live was a huge part of what pushed me to want to do this. She was amazing in the role and even though I didn't write the part of Leah for her, the minute she said Leah's lines, she became Leah, which was so awesome. We're working on getting some other people on board. We're working on figuring out how to film in Michigan. How to put together a budget. How to get people interested in our project. How to raise money. How to do it all so that in JULY (yep, July!) we can spend a week making a TV show. A TV show I assure you all you'll be able to hold in your hands on DVD and watch on your TVs and computers. How cool is that?

So I'm excited. And terrified. Did I mentioned terrified, yes, it's true. I am. But I am so much more excited. I can't wait for what's next. I can't wait for tomorrow. Sunday I spent the day listening to podcasts and talking about TV with a friend. By Monday I was making TV. Life is crazy some times.

So yes, I'm making a pilot in July. Yes, I'm still going to Europe and going to Michigan as planned. And yes, I can't wait to go on this journey with all of you!

And....ACTION!

How Lena Dunham inspired me to wear a tank top to WeHo today

Yesterday is was freaking hot outside. Yes, I know in the east it's still winter with snowstorms and subzero temperatures to prove it, but here in Los Angeles we topped 88 degrees yesterday. Which is fantastic if you are at the beach or have air conditioning in your house. But not if you live somewhere with no insulation and no AC. So by the time the sun went down last night, we were sweating. Inside. Literally. Sweating in my cotton nightgown when I went to bed. It's cooler today but it's still summer here.

And so, when I got dressed this morning, I thought about wearing one of my favorite tank tops. It's green and blue stripes with grey piping on the edges. It's from Old Navy and cost $7 and it makes me happy. I had my hair in pigtail braids and I wanted to wear it and jean shorts. But I was afraid I'd look ridiculous. The stripes are horizontal and it's just a tank top. No sleeves. Shorts, no pants. Did I mention it's almost 80 again today? And I was going to sit on my friend's porch and sip tea and talk shop? But my friend lives in WeHo (West Hollywood - a very nice area of town) and what if I had to stop somewhere? What if I, god forbid, went to the hospital in my stripey tank top and jean shorts? I'd die. (Well, hopefully not really...)

And then I thought about last night's episode of GIRLS. Lena Dunham's character wears the most ridiculous clothes in the show. She dresses in tiny little shorts and half shirts and no bra and onesies and dresses that are small and cute and not really for her body type. And her character (and let's be real, Lena) does it all with this amazing zest. She does it with such afterthought of body and forethought of clothing. She wears what she likes. Not what she "should" wear because frankly, who made up the rules. This is what I imagine her saying right before she says, "and anyways, fuck the rules."

So I was thinking about GIRLS and how last night Hannah (Lena's character) was wearing all these clothes that I wouldn't ever dream of wearing and yet no one commented on them, no one seemed to care about them, and nothing bad happened. She was just fucking wearing the clothes. It wasn't a big deal at all. And I imagine Hannah wears those clothes because Hannah likes those clothes, they make her happy.

And so, long story longer, I wore the striped tank top and jean shorts. To West Hollywood. And I survived. And no one commented and nothing happened and life went on. And I was happy. I was happy because I was in comfy cute clothes and I was letting my skin out to feel the sun and I was able to kick off my flip flops and curl my legs under me.

I want to be more like Hannah, more like Lena. I want to wear whatever I want because I like it. I want to be more accepting of what my body looks like and not feel like I have to hide it. Yesterday I dressed up for church and had a cute little skirt on I am not always sure about. But I got compliments on it and it further reminded me to just do it. Just be who I am. Don't shrink. Don't try to be less than I am. I have to let myself shine. Let myself run. Let myself show. I have to. Because my body is often my voice. It is my presence and my place in this world. And it likes to wear striped tank tops. So thank you, Lena. Thank you, Hannah.

Easter 1979

Me & the Easter Bunny, circa 1979.
"Amazing you would like the bunny, but only stand by Santa!" said Mom.

Grandpa Cows

Most of my favorite memories of my Grandpa Cows were just normal days growing up in Howell. For instance, the day in these pictures. This day that was the opening of the Arbor Drugs. It wasn't a special day. It was just a regular day. A day that for some reason ended up with me and Grandpa at a drug store getting our pictures taken with a clown. And those pictures would end up sitting in frames in my grandma's living room for years. I love that.

You never knew what was going to happen when you spent time with grandpa. You might end up eating all the leftover popcorn at the theater out of a garbage bag while watching SPEED when you were a little too young. Or you might end up in the garden or down at the donut shop or taking a ride just to take a ride. So many days he'd ride his bike down our driveway just to say hi or pull his truck up next to the house to work on some project. It was something I took for granted, that grandpa would always be just around the corner. We'd pass him in town, spotting his red truck from down the block, or run into him at the hardware. He was always there. 

Today would have been my Grandpa Boutell's 80th birthday. A celebration I'm sure would have been marked with cards, phone calls, and gifts of some of his favorites: jerky, flavored popcorn, candy, smoked salmon. Years ago a birthday would've been marked with a soft-sided package of pipe tobacco wrapped and topped with a bow (the gift Angela and I always signed our names to in the early years). There would have been grandma's cake and definitely ice cream (I think that's where I get my habit from -- he had a bowl almost every night). There would have been loud conversation all around that grandpa would interject in once in a while but mostly? He'd just sit back and take it all in. He had four sons, countless grandchildren and yet never seemed to be flapped by anything. Never seemed bothered or annoyed (well, sometimes I saw it creep on his face when grandma would get on him - and I can still hear his "Okay!", it was the only word I heard him use when he got angry but it was the tone that said it all) or angry. In all my years I don't think he ever said a cross word to me.

I am heartbroken that grandpa isn't here to celebrate his birthday this year, just as I'm heartbroken grandma is gone too. I wish I could call them up on the phone this morning and talk to grandpa for about 2 minutes, hear him say, "Okay babe, here's grandma" and smile as he passed me off to grandma who would then talk my arm off. Instead, I sit here, looking at the little silver genie bottle clock he gave me when I graduated college. It was just a gift from him, not from him and grandma. It was something he got at a church rummage sale. The clock no longer works though I've tried to put a new battery in it for years. But it still sits on my desk, just where grandpa wanted it. When he handed it to me he didn't have to explain, I knew how proud he was of me and what I would go on to do behind a desk. I have no idea if he ever read anything I ever wrote and it doesn't matter at all. I can assure you grandma told him all about it over and over again. But it's those gestures that stay with me. The clock, the money tucked into my pocket for a dresser for my first apartment, the picnic basket he found and cleaned up for Ang and me that still sits in my closet.

I sit here this morning, tears drowning out the sound of my fingers on the keyboard, and even though I am incredibly sad, more than that I am oh so blessed. To have had this man in my life for 35 years. To have had such a role model, such an incredible heart to look up to. To see someone who worked for and provided for his family, who loved me as his own even though I wasn't, who never once broke my heart. Happy Birthday, Grandpa Cows. I miss you. I love you.

My first treatment

I posted the picture above on my Facebook page Friday with the caption "what a movie looks like before it becomes a movie". It's a picture of the 11 page outline I'd created for the movie I've been working on for over five years now. It's the first script I wrote in film school at UCLA and then I later transformed it into a one-hour drama pilot. I love the characters and concept so much that I always hated that it sat in my portfolio, largely unread, so when I had the opportunity a few weeks ago to pitch some movie ideas to a friend who's also a producer, I jumped at the idea to pull LOVE AND EMBALMING FLUID back out. (Yep, that's the title of the movie.)

The central idea of the story never changed when I transformed it from movie to television. A story is a story is a story. (See how FX is right now making the TV show FARGO from the movie FARGO.) But the events, the pacing, actually a lot of the script does change. A TV show is written to have act outs that coincide with commercials. And it's written to be a story that unfolds over eight, 12, 15, or 22 episodes over one, two or 15 seasons. And when I wrote the pilot version of my story, I'd had a few more years of screenwriting under my belt.

Fast forward to last week. I got the go-ahead to work up a treatment based on the logline I'd sent my friend. So I set about figuring out what a treatment was. In short, it's a document that can range from one to 35 pages that tells the story of your script in prose form. So, I had to figure out how to combine everything I loved from both scripts (because the pilot had changed significantly from the movie) into one really good movie pitch (i.e., the treatment).

It took me all week. A week of outlining and reading and re-outlining. Dozens of written pages later I ended up with what you see in the photo above. An 11 page outline for a movie. A really good movie, in my opinion. From there I started writing prose. I figured I'd just write and write and then cut out some later, if necessary. My friend wanted a three to five page treatment this time around. So I started typing and when I finished?

It was five pages exactly. And I was even more excited by it.

I took the weekend to have Angela and Susie proofread, to let it sit and marinate and then I read it again this morning. Changed one word and sent it off to my friend. I'm excited. Things are moving forward. Do I have any idea if this production company will want to buy my script? Not really. Do I have any idea what's next? Nope. But I do know that I have a good story and I'm going to flesh it out. I'm going to write a new draft this week. Because that's what we writers do, we put our butts in the chair and we write. Movies, television pilots, outlines, treatments, anything and everything.

SWITCHED AT BIRTH panel

So last night I headed over to the Writers Guild for the panel on the ABC Family show SWITCHED AT BIRTH. If you haven't seen the show, here's the low-down: two girls were....switched at birth! Yep! You guessed it! But that's not what the panel was about. It was put on by the Writers with Disabilities Committee and focused on the fact that the show features several main characters who are deaf and speak in American Sign Language. That's kind of the fascinating thing about the show for me -- it's a family drama but I love watching them sign. And I love how I am forced to watch the show. To pay attention because I might miss what is said (all the ASL on the show is given subtitles for those of us who aren't fluent).

During the panel the writers talked about what it's like to write for deaf characters, for teens, for families. They discussed what it's like to work with deaf cast members and how their lives have changed because of it (many of them learned or are learning ASL, same goes for many of their crew members which I think is very cool). They also talked about how, yes, even though the show features deaf characters, it's not just a show about deafness or even just about being switched at birth. I love that. How one idea can spawn so many others and become this universe that affects so many people, whether they work on it or watch it in their living rooms like me.

Do I know any ASL? Not really. I took a finger spelling class in Yuma a while back and still can stumble through the alphabet. I know a few phrases and a few more I've picked up from the show (shrimp? got it down). But I love the idea that you can talk with your hands. With more than just your voice. Last night as I got in the elevator to go to the panel I was surrounded by four men who proceeded to have a very animated conversation -- all in silence. It was fascinating. (And yes, I felt like I was eavesdropping even if I couldn't understand any of it.)

So here's to more diversity on TV and not just in terms of female male or black white. Here's to raising my awareness of making the characters in the worlds I create look more like the people that populate the world.

30 Day Photography Challenge - Day 30

Self Portrait
So this is it. The last day of my 30 day photography challenge. And just as I started with a self portrait, I'm to end with one. So here it is...

The first self portrait I took was me at my desk, a work day. This is me at rest. It's Saturday and I just finished working out and go dressed. These are shoes I wear more often than not (unless it's flip flop season - well, frankly, it's almost always flip flop season here in Los Angeles). I have seven pairs of Converse currently. These hot pink ones were a gift from my sister two Christmases ago. I have a black pair, an all black pair (no white tips or sides), a green pair, a tan plaid pair, a grey speckled pair, and a grey pair. I wear them all the time. To church, to work, to play. They're me.

It was Angela's idea for me to take a photo of myself wearing them. I was complaining this morning about how I didn't want to take a self portrait today. I didn't want to do my hair, even half-way nice. I didn't want to put on a good bra or change out of my snowman golf tee. And yes, I could have taken a photo wearing all this but I wasn't feeling it. Thus, the shoes.

The month of photography challenge has been fun. It's also been just that, a challenge. But I've learned a lot about my camera, a little something about me, and made some good memories. And I have the photos to remember them all by.