Mind of Migg

Yep, that’s right.  Because everyone else wanted to drop his or her two cents on Josh Olson’s article, “I Will Not Read Your Fucking Script”, I thought I should join in on the fun.  So here’s my take:

Why all the anger?  That was my initial reaction to the comments I read in response to the article.  It was as if he had personally rejected these aspiring writers while slapping them in the face.  On one side, a large group of people said, “Bravo!  It’s about time somebody said it.”  While on the other side, there was a, “How dare he!  His stuff is crap anyway, I wouldn’t want him to read it.”  Because adding personal attacks legitimizes their disagreement.  Those who disagree are missing the bigger picture of the article.  I’m not saying his thesis is perfect, but it was about more than him being a bad person for not helping another writer out.  His essay addressed two issues in particular: one, that screenwriters are not treated with much respect, and two, how to best manage relationships in your network of acquaintances.

I’ll address the lack of respect issue first.  It seems that those who were supportive of the article really saw this point above all others.  He compares it to asking a house painter friend to paint your house in his free time.  A loose comparison yes, but the point is clear: you’re asking for a big favor, for free, from a professional.  I think that is lost on a lot of people.  People who aren’t writers think, “how hard can it be?” and the fact that they don’t know the answer says a lot.  In no other profession does someone follow up your response by degrading it.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a screenwriter.”

“Oh yeah?  I had this great story idea…”

Now try it this way:

“What do you do?”

“I’m a doctor.”

“Oh yeah?  I was thinking of trying an appendectomy on a friend…”

And I’m not likening screenwriting to being a doctor either.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a truck driver.”

“Oh yeah?  I drove from Phoenix all the way to Houston once.”

In what other situation is that response not a slap in the face?  Yet, it’s the typical response to the “I’m a screenwriter” statement.

Addressing this first point sets up his overarching story related to the douche that asked him to read his synopsis.  This brings us to point number two – managing relationships.  The most important thing to realize, for those who disagree, is that the article title was not a sweeping, all-encompassing statement.  He was not pledging to treat anyone that approaches him like trash and never read another script again.  Keep it in context.  He was tying the two points together.

The second point relates to the presumption that as soon as you meet anyone of stature in the business you have to fling your script in his face and pray.  Add to that the audacity of asking for honest feedback and it borders on ridiculous.

His point, I believe, was that you should treat a relationship you have with an established writer with the same respect you would any other business relationship.  Yes, business relationship.  He made sure to mention that it’s different for friends.  What value are you bringing to the relationship?  Are you pro-active?  Asking advice?  Offering help?  No?  Then why should the other person?

There are writers I have met multiple times, got along great with, but wouldn’t trouble them with reading my scripts.  I have a close group of friends that I circle all my drafts too.  I really value their opinions and it helps my writing.  I would love it to expand and include people in the industry I fawn over.  All in good time.

If there were a subtitle to his article it would read – “If you’re not going to put in the same effort as I am”.  You can’t ask for brutally honest feedback and then get upset when someone thinks it’s crap.

So if you’re an aspiring writer, looking for a mentor, keep in mind two things.

Ask for the sale after the presentation

If you’re on speaking terms with someone you’d love to read your material, build some equity in the relationship before asking for a favor.

Not everyone is a mentor

Some people make great mentors – they go out of their way to teach and to help others.  Some people are just writers.  Some people can take a younger employee under their wing and show them the ropes, while others prefer to do it their own way.  That doesn’t make them an asshole.  I’m sure they’re not cold and unfeeling when they’re around their group of close friends.  They don’t owe anyone who doesn’t respect their profession or relationship anything.

An older lady in my apartment complex died today.  The fire truck showed up first.  It parked in front of the complex next door, so I thought nothing of it.  Then the police car parked in front of our place.  I heard talking downstairs, looked out the window, and saw the owner standing with a police officer.  Figuring it was the perfect time to drop my Netflix in the mailbox, I went downstairs.

That’s when I found out what had happened and who had died.  She lived in a studio on the opposite end of my apartment, overlooking the courtyard.  Sometimes she would have her TV on full blast until late into the evening.  She often looked scared of people, or would shy away from interaction.  I wondered if she was a recluse, locking herself away from the world and only stepping out to go grocery shopping.  As time passed, I saw her coming in and out pretty regularly.  Someone would usually drop her off.  It made me happy to know that she wasn’t the quiet, anti-social, angry old lady of my initial impressions.  She never said hello as she’d walk by, but one time I offered to help her with her groceries.  I carried four bags up the stairs for her.  She seemed almost surprised that I even offered.  After that she would give a quiet “hello” or at least a nod whenever passing.

So it’s not like I knew her.  I asked the owner what had happened after dropping off my movies.

“I didn’t even know.  She died.” He said.

It sounded liked he was as surprised as anyone that it happened.  I stood there beside him and the police officer, looking up at her apartment.  One of the other neighbors was standing uncomfortably in her doorway.  I couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been.  I don’t remember the last time I heard the TV blasting at night.  I didn’t see her come back from a walk the last couple of days.  Had it been this morning?  Had it been Monday morning?

The coroner showed up shortly after that.  I only knew because he rang my doorbell.  He had his grim face on and, “I’m sorry for your loss,” sat on the edge of his lips.  I pointed him in the right direction, but it flustered him being at the wrong door.  He walked up, stood outside, looked at me and pointed, “this one?” and then finally knocked again.  A coroner can only knock on so many wrong doors in one day.

That has to be a tough job.  Sure, we all know through “Six Feet Under” that it is, but seriously, you’re dealing with dead people all the time.  He might’ve been laughing while eating a sandwich for lunch and then he gets the call.  When I’m near a death, it completely changes my mood.  For this guy, it means he has to hurry up and finish his sandwich.  How does he do it?

I didn’t want to stay any longer and see them carry out the body.  He was awkward enough introducing himself.  I can’t image how he’d perform bringing the body down the stairs.  The same stairs I helped her carry up her groceries.  One second here, the next gone.  Imagine that.

I had a feeling.  It was a going to be a good night.  I got a little choked up as I leaned against the railing overlooking the ocean, waiting for Violet’s arrival.  I thought about the journey that had brought us to that moment, finally (We’re only three sentences in and I can already tell this post is going to run long and there’s going to be some horrible cheesiness.  You’ve been warned.).

Shayna shouted my name a few times, unable to get my attention.

“Didn’t you hear me?” she asked.

“You said not to turn around until Violet was here.  I didn’t want to look early.”

I was only following orders.  She gave me a flower thing that I pinned to my jacket and I turned back around again.  The view was amazing.  The sky had cleared up from the day before, the sun was out, and there was a cool breeze as the waves crashed against the rocks below.  I heard shuffling behind me and knew Violet was walking down the path towards me.  I don’t even remember who told me to turn around, but when I did, my nerves for the rest of the day were gone.

Violet looked amazing.  I threw on a rented tux and some cool black Chucks.  None of that helped much anyway.  But Violet was a different story.  Her look would ensure every picture we took that day with her in it would be beautiful.   After the brief pause as we both saw each other for the first time we approached each other and relaxed for the first time in weeks.  For a brief moment I became self-conscious of all the people staring and the constant sound of the camera shutter.  It didn’t matter.  The hardest part was over.  Everything was ready, we were together, and it was time to have fun.

We flew through our pictures.  For the most part, everyone in both families arrived when we asked, so we were able to get all of our family photos done in no time.  We took a few goofy ones (are there any other type?) of just us and some fun ones with the wedding party too.  Then there was a lot of waiting.  It was great that everyone showed up for the pictures, but it also meant that half the wedding audience was waiting around for the ceremony to start.

Fortunately, there were some pre-game bottles of wine that a select group (the wedding party) had access to.  This was especially important considering the food still hadn’t arrived and the rest of the wine was stuck in traffic on the 405.  The minister was ready to go though, and we signed all our paperwork while waiting around.  Our witnesses signed and we were officially married before the ceremony even started.  We were tempted to start the party then, but we waited.  The wine arrived in plenty of time, with minutes to spare, and then everyone was lining up into positions.

Things always run so smoothly in a rehearsal.  They feel chaotic on the day of, but then you realize that nobody in the audience was at the rehearsal, so they have no idea what the final product was supposed to look like anyway.  Two of the ring bearers decided they’d walk up the wrong path and nobody noticed until they were hanging out by themselves in the opposite direction. Laleanne’s face was priceless when she turned around expecting them to be there and saw them walking away: jaw dropped, eyes wide, running to grab them.  It all worked out though.  They found their way in the right direction, Gravy found the right song before Violet made it all the way down the aisle, and we found ourselves at the altar, with all our closest friends and family around us.

The actual ceremony went so fast.  I visualized the paper copy of the words as everyone ran through it.  Janiva and Eric nailed their readings, Lilia’s song was great, and then it was our turn.  I knew I would get choked up, but wasn’t sure to what extent.  When Violet starting sobbing as she read her vows, to the point of pausing the ceremony so she could get a tissue, I knew I was in trouble.  I looked around for a place to focus, away from the tears, but all I saw was the bridesmaids crying too.  The thing is, the vows sounds so simple when you read them.  But when you’re in the moment, and you’re reading them, you truly feel the weight of everything you say.  This isn’t someone you’re just going to live with.  You’re going to have a life with them, fight with them, fight for them.  My voice quivered as I said my part, and it was because of how strongly I felt about what I was saying, and my commitment to Violet.

The sentimental part finished, we kissed and got back to goofiness with a curtsy and a bow before exiting to Depeche Mode’s “Just Can’t Get Enough”.  What followed was a sequence of hugs, pictures, some more hugs, and some more pictures.   The wedding party was introduced.  Sam told us he was going to fall and he made it look like he tripped and completely ate it falling forward as he walked out with Janiva.  It was great.  Then Phil was introduced as the “Best Man” and Audrey was introduced as the “Matron of Honor”.  That was funny for two reasons – one, my brother was slightly offended because I told him I hadn’t named a best man.  You can even hear him on the tape saying this to Datta and Eric as it happens.  Two – Audrey isn’t married.  Not a big deal, but a funny moment to remember.  We came out to “I Feel Loved” the Danny Tenaglia Labour of Love Mix.  It’s one of the greatest remixes of a Depeche Mode song, or song in general, ever.

Then we had our first dance, to Ingrid Michaelson’s “The Way I Am”.  A lot of people don’t know this, but we were planning on doing a surprise dance routine a la “Rock the Reception”.  We even spent a couple hours with Abe and Sonal the previous Sunday trying to learn this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bYwFpiwb54Q SexyBack routine from So You Think You Can Dance.  It looks a lot cooler when the Final Four from Season 2 performed it, but that video was taken down from YouTube.  Needless to say, if that dancer didn’t look great doing it, there was no chance we would.  We weren’t even close.  With a few years of dance classes and a couple months of practice – maybe.  But we only had one more day free that week.  We decided to forego the dance and in retrospect I’m glad we did.  With the talent show and all the other silliness it would’ve been a bit much.

Dinner was excellent and Violet and I were able to grab some drinks and walk around for a while because we ate first.  It was so great to see everyone there.  I only wish I had more time to catch up with old friends I hadn’t seen in a while (like Thuy Anh!).  We missed the Minister by the time we walked around, but we heard he indulged in a few Phillips Screwdrivers before leaving.  I disclaimered the slideshow and people seemed forgiving.  Lindsay and Janiva gave very gracious speeches.  Datta was the perfect combination of drunk and holding a microphone.  If there’s a line people cross when someone has to go up and take the mic, Datta made sure to toe it without crossing – the entire time he was up there.  Both Moms gave speeches too and the waterworks started flowing.  We had the traditional father-daughter, mother-son dances and then it was time for what everyone was waiting for – the Talent Show.

There were four acts.  Phil and I started it off with a Flight of the Conchords act – Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros.  We forgot the words, but were able to make up our way through it.  Next was “Fireside Chat with Eric Kneler”.  Eric and Jerry gave a hilarious performance that included an awesome Mexican yell and Jerry in the role of Violet.  Third up was “The Marenin’s Present”.  That’s present as in, “tonight we present” not “they gave us a present”.  It can be confusing.  James had one of the greatest under the breath lines ever uttered out loud at a wedding and I nearly had my back soaked with water.  Sound strange?  Watch the video when I upload it.  I can’t explain it.  Fourth up, “We Are Family” performed by my Mom and two aunts.  They had matching Chucks and costumes and actually sang into the microphones as they danced.  Patsy had one of the strangest wigs I’ve ever seen, so it was no wonder she also balanced a glass of wine as she danced.  Violet wrapped up the show with a rendition of “I Can Hear the Bells” from Hairspray.  She was the only one of the acts with actual talent.  It was a great performance and a great way to close the Talent Show.

The dance floor opened up and initially I was afraid nobody was going to dance.  Violet and I were out there along with Abe and Sonal – and that was it.  Then it happened: everyone slowly started dancing.  Before we knew it, the dance floor was packed and everyone was into it.  Sure it started as the awkward middle school circle, which, by the way, had some great individual dancers.  But it eventually closed up and everyone was carefree and dancing away (even my Dad!).  The lights from the photographer’s flash created a strobe effect around us.  They played Depeche Mode.  Then they played the Black Eyed Peas – “I Got A Feeling”.  I had heard this song a couple of times, but the young ones went nuts when it started.  My brother screamed, “this is my SONG!”.  Lots of people say that, but judging by his excitement and performance, he really meant it.  Everyone jumped up and down.  It was one of those rare moments of pure joy.  Lights flashing, heart pounding, surrounded by friends, family, and a new wife.  Like a living slideshow it was a series of significant images wrapped into one moment that I will never forget.

The dancing had to end too soon.  The energy was so high and it seemed like it was over in no time.  The DJ closed strong, with “Enjoy the Silence”.  Then it was time for cutting the giant cupcake and then coffee.  We took even more pictures.  A giant group took a Claremont Colleges picture.  I hadn’t realized just how many great friends we had from school until everyone was huddled together shouting random locations from the campus as cameras flashed.  A small group of us continued the party at a bar in Redondo Beach.  After all the formalities of the wedding, it was great to just have a beer and relax.  We finally made it back to our room around three in the morning, completely exhausted.  Everyone made it an amazing experience and I couldn’t have imagined it all running more smoothly.  It was perfect.  It was a good night.

The thing is, there was no turning back on the slideshow by the morning of the wedding.  The subliminal sense of urgency helped me get out of bed after a single snooze.  I definitely felt the combination of too many Car Bombs and too much Taco Bell as I sat back at my computer to “finish” the slideshow.  By finish, it meant I made sure the transition from the second song to the third (I had already nailed the transition between the first two songs) was smooth, and that I had enough photos to fill the music.  I dumped in all the pictures I had downloaded a few hours earlier, faded the music out, and hit export.  I was disappointed, but I knew the cute pictures and fun songs would be enough for people to at least appreciate it.

An unnamed groomsmen spent a good portion of the morning in the bathroom, which was fine, because the other groomsman spent his time in the bathroom the night before.  It was good to be considerate and share.  I stumbled into the shower unsure if I had one of my neck headaches that could be a potential migraine, or if I was only a little hung-over.  In retrospect I think it was a little of both.  I had a brief moment of panic at Enterprise while waiting for the minivan rental.  I thought I was going to puke.  Fortunately, we got the keys and grabbed some coffee and bagels and my body felt a little less shaky.

We ran way more errands than a groom should have on the morning before the wedding, but it was nice to keep busy.  Otherwise, the day would’ve felt very long.  We grabbed the minivan, went to Target so I could grab the last of my TARDIS supplies, and picked up the keg.  The keg was nearly a disaster.  I met the wife of the old Korean man I had spoken to earlier in the week.  She gave me a different price than the old man had.  I told her there was no way I was paying that.  Datta told her she couldn’t overcharge me on my wedding day.  We finally bargained down to a price we both agreed to.  I hate bargaining.

I went back to the apartment and handed off the freshly burned slideshow DVD to Shayna.  I couldn’t have cut that stupid slideshow any closer.  I finished my TARDIS and the accompanying note.  I also wrote short personal messages to all my groomsmen to go with their badass gift.  I had a rare moment of sincerity in the notes.  It really did mean a lot to me that they were a part of the day.  At that moment, the reality of everything started to sink in.

The photographer showed up, but didn’t have a lot of work for a while.  I sat trying to finish up my cards while Datta and Sam slept.  Eric brought a little energy (and beers) into the room when he showed up and it was time to exchange gifts.  I got Violet’s first: a pair of Dalek cufflinks.  I explained to Eric exactly what Daleks were in a way only a true Doctor Who fan could.  Then the group left to bring Violet her gift.  I was done with my errands and only had to put on my tux and head to the wedding site.  I didn’t know what to do with myself in the empty room, while I hoped Violet liked my 8^th grade art class style gift.  I paced the room, sat down, paced the room some more, checked my tux, and paced the room again.  It’s easier when there are people around to kill time.

Everyone came back and I was relieved to learn that she appreciated the gift.  If life was a movie, we reached the time-lapse montage point. My dad stopped by for some words of wisdom.  Dave Han brought me some BBQ ribs from Lucille’s for lunch.  We all got dressed.  Everyone struggled with his handkerchiefs and vests.  I handed out my badass grooms gifts.  We stopped for gas, red bulls, and ice.  We nearly saw the bride and had to pull over to let her pass and avoid riding all the way to the site alongside her.

We pulled up to the site and unloaded the ice and a few other supplies we had brought over.  I walked into the reception area.  It was amazing.  Weeks of watching Violet cut, staple, glue, and print had come to life.  I had seen things in bits and pieces: a box of plates here, napkins there, a giant pile of fabric.  But I finally saw the vision all come together.  There were people putting everything together running like clockwork.  Celia and Sophia were decorating the cupcake tower, Shayna, Laleanne and Lindy had the tables covered, and Jerry was pulling out the champagne flutes.  I had a goofy smile on my face, because when I’m really happy I smile without realizing it and my smile is naturally goofy.  I stopped in my tracks to look around at the great job everyone had done.  We were finally here.  It’s sappy, but it’s exactly what I thought at the moment.

Shayna led me down toward the path overlooking the bluff, where I would meet Violet for our first look.  I was ready.

The most stressful part was the slideshow.  It was like an endless conveyer belt of nostalgic photographs.  The problem was that I never had the time to dedicate to it, so suddenly we were a week away from the wedding and it hadn’t been touched since we were first inspired to include the Doctor Who opening credits.  So there I was, the night before the wedding, at 3am, falling asleep at the computer while downloading Europe pics from flickr.  It wasn’t the smartest thing to put off.

It really would have been completed with time to spare had there not been all the other hubbub that surrounds a wedding.  This is particularly true of a wedding reception that includes a Talent Show.  To further increase the completion degree of difficulty, I decided on Thursday to create Violet’s small gift from scratch.  There I was wandering through Michael’s like a husband in Victoria’s Secret on Valentine’s Day.  You know the look – “Dear God I have no idea what I’m doing, but it’s way too awkward to ask for help here.”  That was me.  I knew what I wanted, a TARDIS of course, but I didn’t know how to get it.  I found a couple pieces of wood, some model paint, and a handful of other random knick-knacks and I was set.

I spent Thursday night gluing the TARDIS together while rending the slideshow between scanning images, and also working on the Flight of the Conchords song with Gravy.  Fortunately by this point, we had visitors: my brother, my sister, Violet’s brother, and Audrey, one of Violet’s bridesmaids.  Oh, did I mention we moved that week?  Between the boxes, the people sleeping on the floor, and the drunken people wandering around, I had no choice but to lock myself in the office without being able to move.  If it had been an empty, unpacked apartment I might have been distracted and not finished.

It was a lot of fun to have a packed house of friends and family though and I don’t regret the move at all.  As crazy as it was, it was so worth it.  Friday was much easier.  More photo importing, painting the TARDIS, and practicing with Phil and Gravy.  We were feeling good about our upcoming performance.  I left to pick up some more family from the airport and we were on our way to the rehearsal, running only 20 minutes behind schedule.  Twenty minutes late turned out to be early since most of the other people were either also running late, or got very, very lost.  It was a potential recipe for disaster, but a very strong majority of the crowd was so upbeat that Violet and I were at a positive vibe point of no return.  We did a few run-throughs, a lot of clowning around, and then had the most expensive Chicken Dijon dinner ever (it’s a funny story, but too embarrassing to share online.  Ask me about it sometime).

The bride and groom parted ways after the rehearsal dinner.  The girls to gossip while nursing half a glass of wine for the night and the guys to set the record for most car bomb shots in one sitting.  There was lots of laughing and lots of drinking.  Then there was the drunken sharing of perspectives that always comes the night before a wedding, with all the married men in agreement.  There is something intangible you can’t explain when you know you’re ready to get married.  So while one single friend kept shouting out, “but how do you know?”, all the rest of us could do was nod to each other in an unspoken understanding.  The night out wrapped up with some awful, but delicious, Taco Bell.  After the aforementioned dozing at the computer and subsequent four hour “sleep”, the big day had arrived.

Everything is back in business this week – kind of.  It’s difficult to get back into a work frame of mind – especially when there’s nobody to discipline me for slacking.  There’s still boxes to be unpacked, a new 2^nd bedroom office that is in serious need of organization, and a new routine to get into.  I’m trying to hold off on the cleaning and the organizing until the weekend to get some work done, but it’s been rough.  Add to that the fact that I was mainly focused on a wedding, slideshow, and talent show for a week, and then a week of napping and lounging in Santa Cruz, and you’ll understand why I can’t get myself motivated to work a whole day through.  On the bright side, I’m much more rested than I’ve been in a long time.

I’ll have a long post about the wedding, or maybe even break it into a couple posts.  Then I’ll do the same for the honeymoon.  In the meantime though, I wanted to vent about how tough it is to get things rolling after a two-week break.  I would make myself leave to a coffee shop to be productive, but that was because I didn’t have an office of my own.  Now that I do, I’m not doing a very good job of moving off the couch and to my desk.  I’d like to work from home more often until I find a job to save some money.  All those coffees and lunches out add up.  So I need to reestablish a work environment in my place.  I think I’m much more likely to find a job before that happens, but we’ll see.

Things in India are really taking off.  It’s an exciting time over there and it actually has me involved in stuff that has real deadlines, not ones made up in my iCal.  So that’s a start.  The biggest problem is that the one thing I did do during my two weeks off was read.  It was one of my summer goals to read more and I’ve kept it up.  But it’s easy to feel unproductive when I spend a couple hours reading each day.  It’s not like I can skip ahead in the book or script either.  That would defeat the entire purpose.

Then yesterday I came across a quote (technically a quote of a quote).  It was, “William Safire told me something that really helped: “Never feel guilty about reading.  That’s what you do.” – Peggy Noonan.  I read that and thought, “He’s absolutely right.”  I’m reading scripts much more efficiently now and am able to identify what makes them work or what doesn’t.  I’m also reading Studies in Classic American Literature by DH Lawrence and it’s blowing me away.  I’m also reading a couple short story books on the side as well.  At first I felt bad.  I thought I was being unproductive.  But then I considered that for one, I track reading hours in my timesheet and I’m staying productive in accomplishing that goal.  And two, all these books are making me a better writer and adding to my experience.  It’s not so bad.  So here’s to getting back on track and having a fresh start in many ways.  Cheers everyone.