wilderworks

Possibly the most ridiculous thing that Gordy said keeps rattling around in my brain. "You really could make it, but you know ... you really could not make it too."  I don't know why it haunts me, depresses me, frustrates me. Perhaps because it frames it as a choice. I could keep writing these dark, risky things that come from my heart, and "be sitting here, in this office - well not this office, I'll have a better office - in that suit ten years from now," or I could fucking figure out some light and fluffy high-concept product to sell... I really feel sick. I finished the short script "The Dead Samaritan" today, and it doesn't work. Which proves a point. A month or more wasted. No one is into it. And for some reason, I'm not even getting e-mail that people are sending to be polite, say something pleasant, and pass on.

I met with Gordy Hoffman concerning Storybook Park . Despite his assertion that the present engine of the story (that is, Baron), needs to be fully excised with a thick rim of healthy skin, he didn't believe that should be my next move. Quite literally, he said I needed to drop all the bullshit, fuck all the short-films, ignore the people who want me to make sci-fi or thrillers, and write a high concept romantic comedy, and get it out there. Which means, drop all the crap... He wasn't overly excited by the Cusp of Aquarius pitch, though I don't believe I did a very good job of pitching it. Frankly, I did a terrible job, because, as always, I haven't yet figured out how to explain it, since I haven't yet figured out how to write it. I sent him an e-mail yesterday with a stripped down pitch for The Jumpers , and I've been allowing myself to think it's a brilliant idea, when boiled down to the core. I hope I'll hear back from him soon, so he can p