First Days Back

Wednesday

I got up and went running. This in and of itself was a minor miracle, but in addition to just doing it I also did 3.5 miles--3 miles straight, then walking and jogging the last .5. Yes! I did 3 miles straight again. It'll probably be the last such day for several days, but oh well.

I drove to USC--ah, morning traffic in LA, I'd forgotten ye too well--and got to class in plenty of time. Class was "Episodic TV pilot."

(For whatever reason, half-hour episodic TV is referred to as "sitcoms," whereas hour episodic TV is referred to as "episodic TV," rather than, say, "dramatic TV." So when I refer to episodic TV I am not merely referring to a show that comes back week after week with the same characters.)

USC wants to produce a half-hour episodic show that will be made by the Film/TV Production department. They want the script yesterday, of course, but this class was formed to create the pilot, to create the bible of the show, and to write the first 12 to 13 episodes. Members of the class come up with series ideas and pitch them to the class; the person (or persons) whose idea is chosen becomes the executive producer.

Most of the students in the class are Production students. I guess they're realizing that they're about to graduate has a big effect on them and they think: Oh hey, I have nothing to show--I know! I'll write a script. You laugh, but this is what they do. Most of them cannot write their way out of pay toilet--they think that knowing where to put the camera is enough. "But it'll look cool." Well, anything can look cool: just turn on MTV.

I shouldn't bitch too much about this: most of the graduates of USC's Film School who are working come from the Production and Peter Stark (producing) programs--

(Side note: Production means "directing" or "actually putting the thing on celluloid by acting as a grip or a sound guy." The Producing program teaches one how to be a producer, which means "putting the elements together" but probably does not ever involve lifting a piece of equipment.)

--are the ones who get the jobs, including the writing jobs. In fact, there was one list of graduates that appeared in an in-house newsletter that mentioned Where Are They Now and every single one of them was from the Production or Peter Stark tracks. Not one screenwriter.

As Angie said, "I wish we'd known that in order to work as a writer we had to take the Peter Stark program."

SO I'll bitch about them anyhow, thankyouverymuch.

I got very excited about the class. The teacher, Pam Douglas, is a charismatically enthusiastic woman who has lots of TV credits and honestly cares about the medium.

Up side: Work in teams. Get a feeling for what working on staff at a real show is like. Perhaps be the person who comes up with the series idea used and therefore be the executive producer, quite a good mark for anyone's resume. Actually write something that will be made.

Down side: The show has to be centered around young adults, because it's going to be shot on or around USC, using USC production facilities and resources. It's a two semester committment: work on the pilot and bible this semester; work on following episodes (3 to 4) next semester.

After Episodic Pilot, I spent a few hours in the library with Nero, not quite as productively as I might have, but I was glad to have my 'puter there all the same.

Then came the GSP Get-together, in which the new Second Years (that's us! eeek!) met the new First Years ("They look so young," someone said). I did my part to talk to First Years, though I can't remember any of their names.

I was so excited about the Episodic Pilot class that I decided not to go to one of the classes being held Wednesday evening--I had been thinking about perhaps dropping the pilot class and taking another class. (I have to take at least 12 units this quarter, unless I want to delay receiving my diploma next spring by taking summer school.) I decided I didn't need to sit in on one of these classes.

Linda and I walked back to the parking lot together and we did a lot of talking about the pilot class. She pointed out that writing about teenagers/young adults was not interesting to her, it's going to be a lot of work, and if one of the GSPers in the class wasn't the executive producer, there was no hope for the class. Because I take input from everyone and start mulling it over, I started to get nervous. Was I wrong for taking this class? Maybe I should take a Critical Studies class instead. Was the pilot class a waste of time?

I went home and had a long chat with Darin about this. He said that I shouldn't think of it as moving away from the pilot class, but instead I should move towards another class. Was there another class I would like to take but couldn't because I'd signed up for this one? Would another class fulfill my requirements, as the pilot class did nothing for me requirement-wise? Was I unsure about the pilot class merely because Linda had pointed out some negatives of it to me, but I'd really like to be in the class?

He made some good points. Yeah, yeah--Darin always makes good points. I promised I would think about it.

Whether or not to take this class became moot the next day anyhow.

Thursday (today)

I got up bright and early this morning and actually considered going for a run. I remembered that I needed to make an appointment to take my car in--not only did I need a tune-up, but the first two settings on my air conditioner broke. The top settings still worked, but it's annoying having air going full-blast all the time in the car once it's already cool. Even if I got the temperature perfect, having that much air assaulting me really annoys me, and you can't exactly turn the air off when you're out driving. (Trust me.)

I called at 7:30am and they said, "You can take it in today." I was there by 8:15 and rented a car for the day.

Today's morning class was Episodic TV (the Professional class), taught by the same woman who teaches the pilot class. This is the class that teaches you to write spec TV scripts, which is what you need to show people in order to get on staff at a TV show. You have to prove you can do it before they'll hire you--there's too much money and not enough time for them to waste teaching you.

She walked in and said, "There are too many people signed up for this class, I want the people who are double registered to drop this class." Mind you, we were encouraged to sign up for both the professional and pilot sections, so those of us who were double registered did a double take. Most of the double registees said, Nope, I need the units, I'm keeping both.

She got to me, I considered for half a second and said, "If I can only take one, I'm taking this one." She was not happy. I don't care. I was at USC at 4:30 in the morning in order to make sure that I could be in this class. I'm not leaving if I don't have to.

When she heard that I spent years in the computer industry, she mentioned the Paramount Interactive Storytelling Fellowship, for which you get 2 units and Paramount pays the tuition. She encouraged us all to sign up for it. I guess I might.

After Episodic TV let out, a whole group of us--including my entire thesis section except one person--went over to Cafe 84 for lunch. Cafe 84 is currently undergoing renovation, and signs tell us to be on the lookout for "an exciting new restaurant concept!" Why, is it dangerous? Personally, I don't want "restaurant concepts," I prefer the real thing.

Then came thesis class. I'm nervous. Is that okay to admit? I'm nervous. Remember the old canard about how "this counts on your permanent record"? Well, this does. Okay, not as much as a DUI might, but really rocking on your thesis is a great way to get noticed. Every year USC awards honors to (at most) 5 scripts, which is a way of saying these are really good. USC also puts together a "script list," which is a list of loglines for all the scripts completed this year. The script list is sent out to agencies and production houses, and getting calls is quite common. Being on the script list is major incentive to finish by spring and the thesis deadline.

My thesis advisor is Len Schrader, author of such films as Kiss of the Spider Woman. I didn't take him because he's written art films or high-profile films; I took him because I like his approach to the thesis script: write something that you care about, but start to think about commercial aspects. You can write something very personal, very close to the heart...or you can write something commercial. It's way hard to merge the two. He didn't tell us to do one or the other, but he did ask us to keep it in mind.

There are 6 of us in the class: Angie, Carolann, Linda, James, Erica, and me. One guy, 5 chicks. Len asked all of us to write down our 3 favorite movies of all time. I hate that question, because when put on the spot I can't for the life of me remember 3 films I've seen, let alone the 3 best ones. Here's what I said:

1. Raiders of the Lost Ark
2. The Manchurian Candidate
3. The Women

He asked me why I put those down. I have no idea, I thought.

"I have no idea." Pause. "Well, I've really enjoyed them over and over. They're fun."

Do you know how superficial that sounded?

"I'm not superficial, really."

I can't believe you just said that.

After going around the room and talking favorite movies, he asked us to pitch our ideas for what we want to work on this year. Angie gave her spiel, which was a "[Well-known movie] on a plane." This prompted Len to talk to us about story ideas, about how to find what's cinematic about them. He rambles, but he's fun.

Then Carolann pitched, and her idea reminded me of the logline I'd once heard for Hardcore, and I wondered if Len was thinking that, and then I couldn't remember if Len Schrader or Paul Schrader had written that movie. Eventually I managed to wend my way back to the conversation.

Then I pitched.

Goal for coming year: learn how to pitch.

I've said to Darin: Pitching isn't so bad when I've already written the screenplay, so I know what the story is. (He took this as an opportunity to encourage me to WRITE MORE so I'd know what the damn story is more often.) Plot is my major weakness. I often have characters I want to work with, and sometimes I have a vague idea of some sort. I never get a full-blown plot. So I have to work it out the hard way: if this is my main character, what does she (it's always a she) want? Who's going to stop her? Et cetera.

Len pointed out something to grasp on to with the character that I mentioned and said that was my story. He didn't care for my either idea, which involves secret societies, romance, and the end of the world. But since I haven't worked that idea out yet, I'm not exactly tied to it myself. The first character I mentioned, though, has been bugging me for years. If I don't do something with her, one of us is going to kill the other one, so I think I should write about her for one script. Also, she's the one who knows how to use a gun.

The class went WAY over time, which normally I would love, but I had to return the rental car and get my car (Enterprise closed at 6, as did the Acura service bureau). So I had to leave at 5. It took me until 5:45 to get to the Enterprise rental place. I love LA commuting.

I got home and Darin and I were pretty quiet all night. I told him that I was most unhappy with my pitching skills--in fact, I felt extremely self-conscious and silly, mostly because I didn't have a fully worked out idea like a couple of other people in the class. He told me it was okay, but I was pretty irritated about it.

Irritated at myself, of course, for not being perfect. Actually, for going way beyond not perfect: for being unsure and showing it. The biggest mistake you can make, in this business or in life. I know we can't always be certain about things in this life, but people don't care whether you really know what you're talking about. They just want the feeling that you do. We tend to gravitate towards the self-assured. I never (or rarely) give off vibes of self-assurance. I have to learn to fake it.

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

My fingernails have gotten so long they're beginning to interfere with typing. I keep hitting the wrong keys. How did my mother work as a secretary for 35+ years with monster (real) fingernails?

3.5 miles! Wheeeeeee! Damnation, I'm going to San Antonio, and my exercise always falters when I travel.