My friend Tess writes jokes that probably already made you laugh. She spent years writing for The Soup, worked on roasts for Comedy Central, and now has a new book that perfectly captures the difficulties in maintaining perfect hostess calm while entertaining your drunk-ass friends.
I have been one of these drunk-ass friends on more than one occasion, and I’m almost positive none of my antics made it into this book. And that is a little shocking because I have had some moments in this lady’s backyard, including the morning I let myself into her pool at the same minute she opened her curtains while fully naked. Good morning! [I still promise I saw nothing!]
I was driving home from a features meeting yesterday listening to Scriptnotes, a podcast by Craig Mazin and John August. If you are an aspiring screenwriter and you haven’t found Scriptnotes yet, I highly encourage it. Craig plays the cranky rich guy who grumbles when a screenwriter finds this job hard while John soothes with his kind voice and gentle encouragement. I think it’s the kind of balance you need inside your brain if screenwriting is the kind of thing you want to do to your life. (“Oh, just shut up and write, you whiny baby! …and good luck, you can do it!”)
Lately Craig and John have been taking a few minutes out of their podcast to ponder why there are so few women in this industry. As a woman who had just taken two general meetings that day in features, slammed in the middle a week of no less than five TV sitcom pitches, I wanted to shout back, “I’M TRYING, GUYS.” Craig and John gave some stats based off their own recent inquiry for submissions — only 12% of the writers who sent them pages were female — and with less than a third of Nicholl submissions coming from women and only around a quarter of working screenwriters with the Guild being female, they eventually somewhat concluded: “I guess they just aren’t as interested.” And then I got really bummed out.
I can’t believe this book will be out in just over a month! This career I have involves a lot of writing that you never ever get to see. Scripts, pitches, outlines, specs — I write so much that isn’t for public consumption, or doesn’t make it far enough to get the greenlight.
Hello, fine people. It’s that exciting time of the year when we put on our do-gooder hats and go send some books to some strangers. The Dewey Donation System is open for business, and this year we’re sponsoring two libraries in need brought to us by two very special pamie.com/Dewey fans.
We’re on Day Gross of me sitting in my pajamas as I plow through this to-do list of work. Most of the projects I have sitting in front of me I’m not allowed to talk about yet.
I have a new editor on this new manuscript. I was nervous for the past few weeks knowing that the manuscript was on her to-read-and-edit pile. It was like I’d changed schools, got a new teacher, and wanted to find out if I was still considered a good student.
I got an A!
Karen only had good things to say about the manuscript and I’m quite relieved. She gave me notes to incorporate after we receive the copyedits, and the book is still on track to be released July 2012.
I’m incredibly nervous about it, which is how I’ve felt right before the release date of each of my novels, so it’s probably getting close to the right shape. Right when I think, “I can’t let anyone see this. It’s extremely personal. I’m going to tell them never mind and let’s just stop this right now.” that’s about the time I need someone like my editor to go, “Too late! We’ve sent it off to the printers. What’s your next one about?”
And segue right into this week’s Writerly Advice Weekly Procrastination Thing.
Hey Pam –
First let me say that you are the coolest of all the cool kids for being a library activist. It’s something everyone can get behind. Here in Sumner County, Tennessee, they tried to shut down ALL the libraries less than a year ago. Public outcry followed and the idea was nixed, but they’re still operating on a very frayed shoelace.
So, my twitchy eye. It went away, but now it’s back. It’s back and it’s mad. It wants to be heard. It wants to be seen. It used to be other people wouldn’t be able to see it if I forced them to stare at my head, but now you can see it. You can notice it. It looks like my eye wants to leave my face.
It’s my right eye. The twitch is in the upper eyelid, and it appears the twitch will go away only when I’m talking about, worrying about, addressing or thinking about the twitch. I searched the Internet and found a range of solutions, ones that started with “It’s perfectly normal,” to “…Unless it’s a brain tumor.”
The Web doctors seem to all agree that it’s caused by caffeine, lack of sleep or stress.