The Write Woman Links Networking (76 Days to Go)

Those times where the right answer is wrong

In case you are one of my avid fans, curious as to the promise of my future, today the forecast is a bit cloudy. Not necessarily dark and cloudy, just unclear. The job I was determined to have was not the position my future deemed possible. I was certain if I heard negative news I would be crushed, but I was thankfully incorrect. Isn't it odd when something that doesn't work out for you gives you hope? But yesterday I decided to have a good day anyway, and so I did, certain I would wake up this morning bummed out. Here's the kicker, I figured since I was in the final choices that I do have something to offer and I need to quit being so shy about it. I woke up, nonetheless, delighted.  I'm going to go ahead and let it all hang out! (My skills and nothing but my skills, no more.) If you've happen to see my name on the bathroom wall discussing my skills, its nothing but bald faced lies!

Resume, specialties, and even blogs

Yesterday afternoon I had a class, so I quickly located a new resume template. I took the template, used the ideas from a "pay to use" template, included the order Full Sail University suggested, and put it together this morning, adding my own logo in the corner that's simple, but attractive. In the meantime, I've requested a few choice recommendations from people who are familiar with my work for my LinkedIn profile, as well as posting my resume all over the place in media corners. All this while playing referee between my two kids, taking my son to soccer practice, and completing my schooling at the same time. Can I multitask? Before I would have said no, but now I'm not so sure. I can name a couple of ex boyfriends who would be disappointed to hear I've changed now.

Parents aren't always right

There are all kinds of positions for people with writing skills, so if you enjoy writing and your parents
try to tell you there's no future in it, tell them to stick it in their ear. I wish I would have done that when my parents poo-pooed my dreams. They discouraged me and told me to be quiet and watch television. I showed them, didn't I? My degree will be in Creative Writing for Entertainment. This just proves that you can try to steer a river, but natural erosion will have its way eventually.

Don't think attending school has been an easy choice, it certainly hasn't. We've all made tremendous sacrifices for this opportunity, mostly by finding and creating our own entertainment and night after night of meatless pasta. This is also a bizarre blessing. Because we couldn't afford meat, we no longer have the cravings we used to, but have you seen what the government loads into meat lately? I'll give you a hint, it doesn't moo or oink, and with my daughter striving to become a zoologist, her face nearly turns inside out it wrinkles so much at the thought.

Investing in yourself guarantees a return

Meanwhile, my school allows access to the students to attend online classes at Lynda.com. I'd be silly not to take advantage of those, and only wish I'd know about them earlier. So now I'm making sure I pass off at least one class a week. They range from filmmaking, storytelling, etc. to memorizing, resumes, and stuff I use in my everyday life. They're free, and I'd be setting myself up for failure by not taking them. Sure, my kids miss me. But in the long run, I'll be able to afford more and have a greater experience with them. It's definitely a sacrifice, but the kids think my homemade pizzas, Panini, spaghetti and biscuits are to die for so they don't complain. (Psst, it's all the same flour, water, and salt mixture... shh!)

The Write Woman Messed Me Up (166 Days Left)

The new group we're organizing for prevention

            Okay, first of all I have a horrible confession to make. I quit working out. Yep, that’s right, Samara, my friend. I screwed up. You know how on New Year’s Eve everyone makes that healthy commitment to himself or herself to start working out? Well, they do start, but it only lasts a few months most of the time. As weird as it sounds, I have a fear of large groups of people if they’re behind me and I’m unacquainted with them. I can’t sit in a restaurant with the door behind me and a booth is generally better. You’ve heard that one before, right? When I’m teaching a class, it can have a gazillion people in it and I’m fine as long as I can see them. Perhaps this explains why I never won any marathons…

            Anyway, so the more people with this resolution, the harder it was for me to work out. I tried coming in at earlier, totally weird hours as early as 2:00 a.m. and that worked for a while, but then someone with a trainer started, which I worked through until they brought two friends, and they brought two friends, and so on… You get the picture. Alright, you got me! There were not ten people working out at 2:00 a.m., but there were six! And they weren’t on any schedule! Sometimes they would workout on the equipment I was used to using and totally screw up my schedule. Is this an excuse? Could be. But I was working out regularly last year for nearly five months and then I let this trip me up. I tried all different times and ran into the same thing. Everyone was trying to get into shape—it was terrible!

I wish this was me -- but alas, not on your life!

            Last week I started back up again, even though I did work out sporadically throughout the last couple of months. I started slow again, the treadmill, the stair climber. Working my way up from a miniscule amount of time back to an hour. Today I determined I was prepared enough to move back to the equipment after warming up on the treadmill and followed up with half an hour on the stair stepper.          

This younger woman with flaming red hair waltzed in and handed me a dirty look on a paper plate when she passed. It was red like auburn. Actually more like a reddish-magenta, hanging almost to her waist in loose curls. And she had on make-up—lots and lots of it as if she meant to go to the bar down the street and became disoriented, or perhaps the gym was a backup plan after the bar closed.

I remember thinking she had to have gotten up at the same time as me to get ready to work out. It only takes me half an hour to yank my hair up, dress, brush my teeth, and grab my water and towel. When I get home, I grab something to eat and hop into the shower. She’d have to do all that with an extra half hour each time she pulls out the spatula (not to make food, but apply the make-up). Who does that? I mean, if she’s looking to pick up a guy he’s bound to see her without make-up eventually, unless it’s a one-time deal. And usually people that work out are there to get healthier, not clog their pores with oils and powders before building up a sweat.

You may think I’m jealous, after all she is quite a bit less chunky and younger than I. But if I happened jealous, wouldn’t I be someone who wears make-up regularly? The only time I do is when I have to make a presentation or be seen as some sort of role model, when it’s expected of me. Wait, that isn’t true. I’m supposed to wear make-up at my teaching job, but I don’t. I figure if they want Vanna White to teach the class, they should make their tests a little easier. I wasn’t hired for my dazzling appearance, but for intelligence and crowd control; the general aspects of being a mother for a group of thirty hormone-raging individuals.

Even though I tend to spread myself thin, I somehow find I work better under controlled and organized stress. This weekend I’ve already completed all my work for school to brainstorm on this other task I’ve undertaken for drug prevention. I’ll contact homeless shelters and prisons to find out about interviews pertaining to drug users to see what information I can channel. (I need a decent video camera though because mine isn’t the best, but I’ll make due.) I have a speaker and a vocalist already participating and I’ll need to contact libraries (although mine already agreed to it), universities, schools, etc. quickly, because this year’s almost over.

            Meanwhile, the next two months I’m inundated with a screenplay that must be complete Vermill!on Beach, at least as a novel. The first draft is complete, which is enough spine to use for the script. The novel is of 250 pages during the first draft, which isn’t bad, but a script is only 100 to 120 pages long. The tricky part is removing all the things the character is thinking to herself and making it visual so the audience can see and hear what she’s thinking in conversation without her coming right out and saying it like a dork—oh yeah, and change the tense. Anyway, I’ve got a couple of months to do it and at 5 pages a day I should be able to sort through it a couple of times. (Crossing my fingers!) There should be a way to cross fingers on the internet, but I suppose the symbol may look like some kid trying not to wet her pants.

Opening of Vermill!on Beach screenplay

by the end of May. The other morning I woke up with this bright idea to stop working on

            Afterwards, the following couple of months I plan on being stationed in California, coming back just in time to graduate. For those curious as to why I’m single? It’s easy—I’m married to my work and couldn’t be happier. The hardest part is making sure my kids get the attention they need and I get the attention I need, which seldom happens. But anyone who’s ever been a real parents knows exactly what I’m talking about. Nevertheless, I have no interest in men as anything more than friends, just like women. I simply have no time for games.

Oh my gosh! My cell phone! I use the Go Phone plan through AT&T, right? I was changing my little flip phone over to a new phone with a different SIM card and rate plan, so the rep told me two weeks ago to wait until my plan runs out and renew the whole thing through them, so I waited. Last night I called and got some weird dude who was trying to walk me through it step-by-step even though I told him I didn’t have a house phone (Being the only adult, why would I?) Then I told him I needed to have the phone numbers switched from one card to the other, so perhaps I would be better off taking it to the center where they could perform the task easier, because they have their own phone to use, right? Besides, the SIM card would not change from my old phone to my new one because the sizes vary.

"Customer Service" - What the hell is it?

The guy kept arguing with me and then would start over with, “Okay, so I’m going to call you back in a few minutes on the same number.” First, he never had me even set up my new phone with the SIM card, battery, etc. and second, I just told him I need to transfer the data. He promised he could transfer the numbers from one phone to the other from his data center. “Wow, really?” I said, “That’s totally new because I thought the information on the SIM card was private and you had to manually transfer the data.” He said, “No, I can do it from here.” Really? Technology sure has made some astounding headway, if that’s true.

I explained if he calls me back, I’m still going to be on my old phone. He didn’t get it. I told him I was going to the center and have them do it. He said “Okay, that sounds good then. So tell me when you want me to call you back.” I hung up.

            Oh yeah, we didn’t get to the shoot either. My friend had a last minute invitation to go see a play and part of the shoot is from the front door at night. We decided to wait until next week. I’ll need to tell Jen, my  CGI agent, to hold off. She’s busting her butt to get it done by next week, and it’s not going to won’t happen.

            Today, coincidentally, I am teaching Drama/Yearbook at one of the schools, which will be fun. Who knows, maybe I’ll learn something. Even though I’m the instructor, I try to learn something every day and this is a great opportunity. So go ahead, let the cat out of the bag. I’ve got so many little things going on, I need to step lively. I’m creating a presentation about people using drugs, this week; working on Vermill!on Beach to complete by the end of May, hopefully not going is an absolute waste. It’d be like going to La Caille, means "the quail" in French (an expensive restaurant) and eating a salad over the course of the four hour meal without eating a complimentary dessert. Which, by the way, you never get at La Caille. But if it was free after spending $200, wouldn’t a person be foolish to skip it?

Susan Albershardt

travelling to California in June and July, finishing school in August to graduate on my birthday, and made a few connections on an online school program last night. By the way, “Thanks Susan Albershardt and Sheena Fowler for an incredibly insightful discussion last night.” I definitely need to attend more of them to ensure I get my money out of this school. Each of the discussions is a bonus class for the students so

            Lastly, I’ve decided to include my talents by giving back to humanity. I’ve requested several friends’ help in creating a program called Messed Me Up for teens and adults in battling narcotics, cigarettes, and alcohol abuse. The going is slow because of all the people in libraries, schools, prisons, shelters, and newspapers I need to contact, but moving in the correct. I’m certain the work is worth the reward, if only one person’s life is changed for the better.

The Write Woman Can’t Juggle with 177 Days Remaining

Redbox can be the call to glory when you get a text message for a freebie. What an advertising gimmick! Cameron and I decided to get the freebie movie and have an intermission in our studious day, but the first time I let him choose the show. We saw Live. Die. Repeat./Edge of Tomorrow with Tom Cruise and Emily Blunt. And this role for her is much different than The Devil Wears Prada or Gulliver's Travels. My only regret is that we didn’t see her and Tom Cruise sooner in the engulfing Transformers meets Groundhog's Day film. Don’t get me wrong, this show isn’t a knock your socks off flick, but with the others combatting it at the theaters, it would show a lot better on a big screen. (Which is one of the reasons I want a miniature theater in our house when we’re situated. Is that a tax write-off for screenwriters?)

Since I forgot to enter the code, my card was charged and I still had the credit, which had to be used the same day. So I when I saw Channing Tatum’s name on a credit listing of a movie, I had to grab it quick. Besides, he’s a versatile and incredible actor. Look at the roles he’s played in from 21 and 22 Jump Street to GI Joe – one would tend to think Versatility is his middle name. I don’t think that anymore.  But then Steve Carell did a fabulous job in Date Night and loads of other comedies, such as the character in the children’s show Despicable Me (I didn’t like him as the antagonist in Dinner with the Schmucks, because I’d always had him in my head as a good guy, not an obtrusive pain in the ass.) Then again, the first time I saw him was in the television program The Office. Finding a replacement would be hard pressed, as they proved later.

When an actor goes out on a limb to spread their wings a bit, flipping to the opposite type of character, such as Ashton Kutcher in The Butterfly Effect, usually can’t be pulled off as well. In this example, though, Ashton did an amazing job. And then there’s Saturday Night Live’s Adam Sandler. He isn’t dry, he’s just stupid. Every role he plays he is the exact same predictable character—the friend you don’t want to be seen with in public. But to his credit, when he stepped outside his professional box of “comedy” to play the role of a devastated dentist whose family died in the 9/11 tragedy in Reign Over Me, opposite Don Cheadle, magic happened. I don’t understand why Sandler doesn’t focus on serious roles instead of that patty-cake-baby-made-a-poo-poo comedy he insists on.

Now that I’ve thrown my gratuitous opinion out there, allow me to get back to my original comment about our movies yesterday. The free movie I chose (thank God it was free) was Foxcatcher with Mark Schultz (played by Channing Tatum), a wrestler being fronted by an eccentric momma’s boy (Steve Carell). (Mark Ruffalo was in this film too, but he is a bit more flexible and never really coined as comedian.) While both Channing and Steve did fairly good jobs in widening their scope of acting, I felt as if my face had been slapped hard several times. Channing was someone I ranked up with Leonardo DiCaprio in his acting ability, and even though Leo did a great job of a mentally impaired kid in What’s Eating Gilbert Grape, that movie was his starting point. Moving backwards from Titanic or the more recent Shutter Island wouldn’t have suited him, any more than Channing moving to a slow-thinking wrestler.

Steve Carell held his nose high in the air, looked like crap, and quite frankly reminded me of my ex with his attitude, in this perfectly articulatd role. While the makeup was adequate and his mannerisms were annoying, I can honestly say that after this film, his image is much more than tarnished. As one of the greatest protagonist comedians, why did he insist on messing up perfection with not making people laugh? It's a rare talent he should embrace.

Juggling is not the forte of some actors, just as it is not embedded in a lot of people. For example, I love writing and it’s one of the things I’m best at. Speaking to other people, I am quite good at sticking my foot in my mouth because I think a lot faster than I speak. This causes me to stammer and stop in the middle of a sentence to correct the beginning, etc. unless I’m aware of precisely my anticipated response before I begin. I cannot juggle. Telling a joke is funny that I try, forget the joke, because I’m one of those people who says, “This string walks into the bar and orders a drink. The bartender says, ‘We don’t serve strings.’ Oh, wait a minute—the string says, ‘I want a beer.’ and then the bartender says, ‘We don’t serve strings.’ And the string goes outside to sit in the ditch…”  My point being, I would never in my life try my hand at comedy. Besides, if you want funny from me, you’ll need to observe some of the stupid mistakes I’ve made such as combining exotic dancing during the night with preschool teacher during the day. Who knew I’d run into Michael’s dad at a bachelor party? Totally unplanned and hysterically funny, as long as you weren’t me.

This week in school we had to write a short script on one of the loglines we’d created from last week. Since I couldn’t choose, I took the first one and went to work. I did it in nothing flat. That isn’t to say I’m so damned smart it was easy, but I’ve been writing scripts now for quite some time, so if it wasn’t easy, I’d be stupid.

Oh yeah, I’ve also been invited by Stage 32 the opportunity to represent a screenwriting group. I’ve submitted the group as—ready for this?—The Film Scene! I know this isn’t a real shocker for most of you, but still, it isn’t as if I have enough to do already, right?

This also reminds me, for the Full Sail University students, we will have a meeting coming up to discuss the film Se7en, so buckle up tight and hold on. The specifics of time, piece and film are available in the email you should have received. If not, check the clubs site on Connect to find out the details.

Everyone else involved in movies and screenplays, consider your favorite actor and think about a time either an acting gig or some personal problem (like George Lopez getting drunk, and falling with his butt cheeks showing, in public) turned you off from the actor and spare no details.