anxiety

Mom just brought me a chewable calcium supplement. Two, actually. “One for later,” she said, because Jason told her that Dr. Oz said somewhere that we can only absorb so much calcium at one time, so we need to take it in two doses. I am terrible at remembering to take vitamins, but I’m even more terrible at them ever since Jason began a sentence (with only the best of intentions) with, “You know, in terms of calcium, once a woman reaches thirty-five…” I hit mute, rewind, delete, deny.

I kind of walk around all day right now with this low-level, stomach-knot anxiety. Part of it must come from me being unable to do anything that feels like actual exercise. I can’t skate, I can’t go for a run, I can’t even go for a twenty-minute walk without regretting it later. So I sit. I sit and wait. I wait for word on the upfronts. Any minute now we find out the fate of Romantically Challenged. I’m under contract there, which means I can only do so much alternate planning in case the show goes from hiatus to cancelled. With the publication of Going in Circles I am finished with my contract, and I’m now writing chapters that will end up in a book proposal. I’ve also written up a pitch for an hour-long tv show based on a novel I love, love, love, but I’m waiting on notes from my agent… who is busy with upfronts. I meet tomorrow with the studio I’m creating a half-hour pitch with this development season, which means I’m waiting to find out what project I’ll ultimately be pitching with them. I’m waiting on responses for a few other possibles here and there. All good things, if only a “YES” would come back. I’m waiting. I’m writing. I’m waiting. And I’m closely monitoring my dwindling savings account. Read more

Making Friday Feel Like Sunday

Someone said to me recently, “If I were in your situation right now, where I was totally unemployed? I would spend my entire morning in my robe, drinking coffee and reading, until it was time to sit outside in the sun, drinking champagne and reading. Perhaps still in my robe. That’s what I’d do every day.”

I can’t do that every day, because I’m pretty sure I’d like it enough to do it every day for the rest of my life. But: I’m giving to give that a try for today. Me being me though, I have to nerd it up a little. Coffee is brewing while I stream last night’s Samantha Who?. I will add watching The Office and 30 Rock to that time between robe-wearing (I don’t have a robe, so I’m going to stay in what I wore to bed) and champagne-sipping. And I know at one point I’m going to end up watching my last Netflix that’s here, because it’s Helvetica, and I’m the only geek on this planet yet to see it. What I’m saying is: about to have a wonderful Friday, wish you were here.

Have a good weekend, everybody. Hope you didn’t get fired for watching yesterday’s video. But if you did, at least now you know how to enjoy the free time. Wait… oh, man. Did I just put myself on a “Stay-cation”?!

waiting.

Lots of waiting.

I turned in the final draft of Why Moms Are Weird: The Sitcom to ABC last Thursday. Today, we are supposed to learn its fate. Will they want to shoot the pilot?

As I sit here, staring at my cell phone, waiting, I realize I’ve been gone from this site for a very long time. I’m sorry to have neglected you. Life has been taking over… well, my life. Read more

working it.

There’s no easy way to explain this, the amount of work, luck and good fortune that goes into a lovely combination of producer interest, agenting, and studio support. Everybody has to invest time and energy and smarts and faith in creating a new possibility.

On the afternoon AB Chao was flying to Los Angeles, hours after I’d gotten off the red-eye from running the marathon, I was pitching a sitcom. A pitch is a twenty-or-so minute song-and-dance where I outline the themes, characters, and world of a show. I explain how it would be funny, how the characters interact, and why people would want to watch more than once. A lot more than once. And why a network should take a chance on purchasing that sitcom.

During the pitch there are people all around me. Producers, agents and execs — Team Pam — there to show support, to talk up me and the project before I start my speech, who explain why they’re excited and therefore think the network should get excited enough to pony up and take this property off the market. Read more

so early, so late

You don’t have to check the time of this post. I’ll tell you. It’s four in the morning.

I’ve learned an important lesson. When you decide to drink more Diet Coke than you have in about a year, it’s best not to do it at eleven at night. I’ve been trying to fall asleep for over four hours. Read more