HAPPY (EASY!) HALLOWEEN

I have spent so much time grouching over Halloween every year -- witness previous posts here and here -- that my kids sometimes call me the Halloween Grinch. I just don't like how evil Halloween's gotten. I don't like the ridiculous expense on horrible props, or the difficulty and personal trauma involved in coming up with costumes that aren't (a) evil, (b) slutty, or (c) lame, and that is acceptable to both my kids and me.

But suddenly, this year Halloween became easy.

Sabrina joined up with two other girls to do a group costume. The three of them are all decked out as "Reduce," "Reuse," and "Recycle." They're wearing Whole Foods canvas shopping bags torn up and repurposed as skirts, tops made out of plastic grocery bags, and jewelry made from bottle caps and poptops and the like. Really cute, incredibly cheap, and they did all the work themselves. (When Sabrina's skirt didn't fit right, on her own she snipped off the edge of it and used the fabric to put in belt loops, and also cut a buttonhole and added a button. Let me tell you, she's stylin'!)

As for Cory, he was even simpler. He asked me to pick up a bag of Smarties candy at the store. He's wearing a geeky t-shirt, and has Smarties taped all over his jeans, and he's going as ... "Smartie Pants."

And again, he did it all himself. What's not to love. (An even better costume, I thought: One of Cory's friends from church is wearing an Obama shirt with coins glued all over it and going as... "Change you can believe in.")

Tonight Lee takes Sabrina to join her two compatriots ("Reduce" and "Recycle") for what could very well be her last trick-or-treating house-to-house. I'll take Cory to the home of a friend from church, where a few kids are meeting to go to some haunted house (because they're far too mature to trick-or-treat). I'll hang out at a Starbucks with my computer.

And then Halloween will be over. The easiest one ever. Whew!

May your own Halloween be fun, non-evil (and non-slutty), and as easy as this.

FADE TO BLACK

There are few words more designed to bring delight to the heart of a screenwriter than "Fade to Black"... the usual last line of a screenplay.

We got to write those words Monday night, to my exhausted relief.

This was one of the fastest projects we've ever written -- 10 weeks, start to finish (and we were on vacation for one of those weeks, plus had to deal with the beginning of the school year and moving my mom and all the other real life things that one is tempted to view as time-suckers in the face of a fast-approaching deadline). We were also working in physically daunting circumstances. And we were caught in the middle of the DreamWorks/Paramount divorce, adding a little political fillip to the whole thing.


But we did it. We collaborated in a mode we'd never used before, one that required us to trust each other's handling of the story and of our screenwriting craft a lot more than usual. And somehow it worked.

Those who have read it so far (hey, it's been less than 48 hours) are raving. That's always nice. Raves often lead to further drafts of a screenplay, which leads to more money, which, in this economy, is quite the lovely miracle indeed.

And now I can sit back and try to remember what it's like to get through the day without feeling guilty that I'm not writing. Without the back of my mind wandering off to think through just how to best replot that final action sequence. Without telling the kids that no, I can't look at that YouTube video, I can't practice volleyball moves, I can't cook dinner because I have to write.

I can answer e-mail, and go through several weeks of unopened mail, and go to a movie, and do my hand laundry, and work on the kids' school applications, and read my students' work at a more leisurely pace, and finally make that Costco run, and get a pedicure, and wonder what the back of my mind should think about now...

Oh, and I can blog.

A happy day, indeed.

FIRE SEASON

People say we don't have seasons here in Southern California, I guess because we don't have snow. But we do have seasons. They're just not the same seasons as everyone else.

I woke up around 3:00 a.m. to the sound of sirens. Fire trucks on the freeway. (We can hear the freeway loud and clear if the wind's blowing the right way.) I could tell they were fire trucks by the multiple, overlapping sirens. And I could tell they were in a hurry because not only were the sirens going, but they were honking their distinctive horns repeatedly.


"Fire," I mumbled to myself. But the sirens didn't stop -- that's the bad sign, when you hear them stop. So I muttered a prayer for the firefighters and rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. It was hard, because the sirens kept coming. More and more fire trucks. A big fire. Somehow I dozed off.

Until 5:42 a.m., when every phone we have started to ring all at once. It was a robocall from Cory's school, announcing there would be no school today because of the fire in the Sepulveda Pass. (And when I logged on, I found I had an e-mail, also sent at 5:42. Very impressive.)

The Sepulveda Pass? We live less than a mile away from the Sepulveda Pass. That didn't sound good. Even though we didn't smell any smoke.

We flipped on the local news, something we never do. Yup. Fire in the Sepulveda Pass. 150 acres and still burning. Burning straight up the mountain from the freeway to a mountaintop housing development. The freeway was closed, and the parallel road, Sepulveda Blvd., was also closed. And the firefighters were actually doing nighttime water drops by helicopter, something they never do, because it's so very, very dangerous.

But they had no choice. Yes, the Pass is full of brush and wilderness, but it's bordered on all sides by homes -- mostly rather expensive homes. If a fire got loose in the Sepulveda Pass, the losses would be inestimable. It's just one of the oddities of Los Angeles, the only major city in the U.S. with a mountain range running right through the middle of it. Crowded as we are, we live surrounded by patches of wilderness. And wilderness burns.

They stopped the fire. They opened the freeway by 7:00 (otherwise literally millions of people wouldn't have gotten to work). But they never did open Sepulveda, as the now-contained fire kept smouldering and threatening to reignite all day. If we'd had to get Cory to and from school, it would probably have taken an hour to an hour and a half each way.

I guess that's part of what it means to live in L.A. Other places, kids get 'snow days' from school. Here, we get 'fire days.' And while the rest of the country is celebrating autumn, watching the turning of the leaves (something I've never really seen), here we're sniffing the air for smoke. Because we don't really have autumn here. We have fire season.

BACK IN A MO

I'm finishing and delivering a script this week, so posting may be slight. (But it's always a happy day when we get to write "The End," so I don't mind!)


I do have to post about the last two weeks of The Amazing Race (so sad the comic book geeks are gone!), and about the books of the third quarter, and more. And maybe I'll need a break while finishing, so don't count me out for the week! But at the moment I needs must dive back into the world of military working dogs and head back to Brazil, so off I go!

See you soon!

MOVIE THOUGHTS: BEVERLY HILLS CHIHUAHUA

Yes, I joined the millions and millions of people who ignored the well-reviewed, more serious and relevant Body of Lies (directed by Academy-award winner Ridley Scott and starring Academy-award winner Russell Crowe and Academy-award nominee Leonardo di Caprio) to instead go see a fairly ludicrous story of chihuahuas lost in Mexico.

And I bet I had more fun.

Just to clear my name with any eye-rollers out there... we did a movie party for my daughter's 12th birthday, and it was either BH Chihuahua, City of Ember (which got lousy reviews and tanked in its opening weekend), or wait two weeks for High School Musical 3 (which all the girls want to see but won't admit to because they feel they're "too old" for a high school movie. Oy.).


It's not surprising, actually, that such a piece of froth should do so well as the country tanks into (we hope only) a recession. Think what Busby Berkeley movies meant to the audience during the Great Depression: Two hours of forget-your-troubles fun, a little romance, a little glamour. I think BH Chihuahua catches the Zeitgeist at just the right time: Who wants to see doom and gloom, tension and drama, when we've got it smashing toward us from every angle every night on the news? Nope. We want froth. So on to the movie itself...

BH Chihuahua was absolutely ludicrous. The basic story: An overly pampered chihuahua taken on a party weekend to Baja California is kidnapped and thrown into the dog fights. She gets away with the help of a washed-up police dog, but the bad guys suddenly realize they'd really like the diamond choker the chihuaha is wearing. (Why didn't they take the choker off her the second they kidnapped her? This is the giant and quite stupid PLOT HOLE I'm sure I will point out in my screenwriting classes for years.)

Somehow the chihuahua ends up in Mexico City and has to get back to Beverly Hills with the help of the police dog, and (oh, here's more plotting that you're gonna love) the lovestruck chihuahua of the gardener back home, who has come all the way to Mexico City to search for the lost dog... and with a nasty Doberman owned by the bad guy on their tales. Along the way, they run across other dogs, including a giant Chihuahua kingdom that looks like the bad theme-park version of an Indiana Jones set. Amazingly (sarcasm), the Chihuahuas make it back to Beverly Hills, just in time to start working on the sequel.


As I said, the movie is rather dumb. But somehow, it's just fun. It's funny enough, has enough cute dog moments, and a winsome attitude that blithely dances forward without even acknowledging the monstrous plot holes and continuity gaps.
One of those movies you expect to hate, but come away saying, "You know, that wasn't so bad." (Think Alvin and the Chipmunks but with dogs.)

Maybe I just had fun because my expectations were so low. (Although I was disappointed that they didn't license the obvious music choice -- Weezer's "Beverly Hills" ("that's where I wanna be... living in Beverly Hills").) Or maybe I had fun because I was surrounded by giggling 11- and 12-year-old girls all hopped up on Raisinettes and Bunch'o'Crunch.

But I admit it. I did have fun. However, please do not take this as a recommendation of the movie. Unless you can take a posse of tween-age girls with you.

On a side note: It was interesting to see what trailers got a response in this sold-out theatre. The new Madagascar 2 trailer was much funnier than the earlier "Move it-move it" teaser trailer, but didn't fully convince my girls. Everyone liked the upcoming Bedtime Stories with Adam Sandler. Marley and Me fell completely flat -- no response whatsoever from the huge theatre. (I'm guessing no one in the theatre was old enough to recognize the Chariots of Fire gag used in the trailer.)

But the biggest response? High School Musical 3. Squeals of delight, people throwing their hands up in the air when the trailer started. And people all over the place singing along with the song.

Even my girls were singing along. Not that they'd ever admit it when the lights came up. But I guarantee they'll all sneak out to the movie.

If you only have one ticket to buy to a tween-happy movie, I'd wait for HSM3. Don't worry, BH Chihuahua 2 will be along soon enough.

IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT, AND I FEEL FINE

The financial meltdown of the past week has certainly rocked a lot of folks.

I mix and mingle and e-mail with a really wide variety of people. Well-off stay-at-home moms who haven't worked for pay since the birth of their first child. Students living on student loans and wondering how (if) they'll ever pay them off. Industry types who are guaranteed large chunks of change on every project, whether they had much to do with it or not. Industry types who desperately hope that today will bring a returned phone call from an agent, a residual check in the mail. Working stiffs whose retirement plans have just been wiped out. Freelancers moving from job to job and hoping that one of the temp gigs will turn into something real. And way, way too many people with absolutely no health insurance, hoping that the next handshake won't be the one carrying the germs that send them to the ER.

And among all these groups, the financial meltdown is the number one topic of conversation. People are freaked who have no need to freak. (For instance, the woman living in the $6 million house and driving the Escalade who moaned, "I lost a million dollars on Monday!" even though her husband still brings in an 8 figure income.)

Right behind the financial meltdown conversation, though, and underlying it, is a deeper fear. The fear that maybe this time the uncertainty won't go away. What if I lose my job? Can I get another one? How long can I survive? What do I do when my unemployment runs out? Can I get health insurance? What if I get sick without health insurance? What if I lose my house (which is already worth less than my mortgage)? What if I can't pay for my school, my kids' school? How do I pay for the gas to go to work? Or to look for a new job? How am I supposed to plan for the future? How I am supposed to plan for next month?

The fear washes from people in conversations, in e-mails, in casual comments from strangers standing in the checkout line.

And I've been surprised that it's been washing right past me.

I'm not meaning to be callous. Truly I'm not. And I don't mean for this to be any kind of a rant at all. Because I know all those fears. I know them very well. Because what everyone else seems to be going through is standard operating procedure for most of us in the entertainment industry.

Job security? Ha! We move from project to project, hired and fired at the whim of an employer who doesn't have to answer to anyone. Yes, we get paid well when we work, but it can be months (or years) between paychecks. Health insurance? Sure, when we have it, it's gold standard insurance just this side of the U.S. Senate's... when we have it. Because those months or years without work mean lapses of insurance, too.

All the stop-gap measures people are talking about for the first time -- Maybe we should drive the car another year. Maybe we should have a "staycation" this year -- We've been doing them for years.

That's because those of us in the biz know something that so many others are just figuring out: A weekly/biweekly/monthly paycheck is an illusion.


There is no security in an employer, in a steady job. In fact, the very phenomenon of a weekly paycheck really dates back only 150 years or so in history, back to the Industrial Revolution. Before that (and for most of the world still today), the majority of people lived by the vicissitudes of nature or of the marketplace: If your crops failed, you could starve. If no one bought your goods, you had no income. You think you can plan for 10 years from now based on your paycheck? Well, good luck. But those of us in the biz already know how it feels when those plans become futile because things didn't work out the way you thought they would.

People who are used to a paycheck simply don't know what it means to live without one. I remember sitting in deacons' meetings discussing whether to help someone who was down on their luck, and hearing the folks with "normal" jobs descry the helpee's inability to set a budget, to keep up with their bills. "Don't you understand," I'd try to explain, "they don't know how much money they have coming in next month?" But the paycheck-people never did understand. Instead they most often muttered something about how people should go get a "real" job.

Living without a safety net is status quo for most of the world. In the U.S., however, we seem to feel we are entitled otherwise. But working in the industry, I always know: Work is a blessing. Work is a gift from God. While I am fully qualified for every job I've gotten, I can't say I am entitled to them, can't say I necessarily deserve them over everyone else who may have wanted the gig more, may have needed it more. I know that I can do everything right, that I can indeed sometimes be the perfect person for a job... and still not get it. I know it's possible to do everything right, and still suffer grievous losses. I know to "put not my trust in princes, in whom there is no help."

Who knows if the current financial meltdown is a temporary aberration or the beginning of the next Great Depression? I sure don't. But I know I've been through it before, over and over again. And maybe even some of those bad times were a blessing too, as I'm able to look at the news that's driving others panicky and to, well... shrug.

Welcome to my world.

THE SCRIBBLER'S GUIDE TO THE LAND OF MYTH

I know it seems as if all I'm posting lately is shoutouts to other people's work. But I can't help it, I'm just so proud of what my friends are doing. (And I have some more substantive posts coming -- I have to do the books of the 3rd quarter, and I'm thinking through why this financial crisis seems irrelevant...)

But in the meantime, let me give a great pitch for my friend Sarah's new book, The Scribbler's Guide to the Land of Myth: Mythic Motifs for Storytellers.

Sarah, who's a member of our writers group, has been working on this book for years. She's a former researcher for Jeopardy, so you know the research is excellent, and her thinking through issues of myth from a storyteller's perspective is terrific.

So often as writers we take a courtesy look at the hero myth/hero's journey and let it go at that. But Sarah has gone much much deeper into the "land of myth," and provides plenty of useful tooks for writers in a clear "travel guide" format.

Put this in your reading queue!

LESSONS FROM THE AMAZING RACE

Another great week on the Race. I'm still not quite tracking with the names of the contestants, just their descriptions (Southern belles, frat boys, etc.). But we have quite a good set of 'characters.' Someone to hate (the self-aggrandizing Tina), someone to root for (the comic book geeks), someone to laugh at (the Southern belles).

And, as always, we can learn a great lesson from The Amazing Race. This week's lesson: Follow the directions.

Lots of teams messed themselves up by failing to do so. Terence and Sarah, who were first after the Detour of rolling the boat into the water on big logs, didn't follow the directions about finding a taxi, and ran into town futilely so as to avoid climbing the path to the top of the cliff where all the taxis were waiting. They avoided elimination only because another team was kind enough to stop and tell them where the taxis were... far from where they were. Oops. Nothing like dropping from first to almost last because you don't bother to follow instructions.

In an astonishing display of, well, stupidity, the two divorcees (don't remember names) confused the two parts of the detour clue. The second choice in the detour involved looking for a shipping container in a port. Somehow these two decided what they really had to do was dig in the sand for said "container," even though all around them, other teams were racing off to get the taxis that their instructions told them to get. Really one of the dumber mistakes I've seen a team make in a while, though fortunately for them not as fatal as it could have been.

The divorcees proved themselves unworthy later when their instructions specifically told them to keep their taxi while they performed the Roadblock... but let their taxi go. Read the instructions, girls! ...I'd say this team is not long for the Race.

But the Race itself continues in high form in Brazil. I can't wait for next week's episode. (Which, unfortunately, I will have to Tivo... so here's hoping our Tivo, currently out of whack due to neighborhood-wide technical problems, will be restored in time!)

And in the meantime, I will spend my week reading all directions very very carefully.

THE DEATHLY HALLOWS LECTURES

I have been remiss in not promoting John Granger's most recent book The Deathly Hallows Lectures.

John has led the way in discussing Harry Potter as a work of literature falling within the mainstream of the history of Western literature, in providing the serious reader tools for digging deeper into the story, and, of course, in pointing out the Christian foundations of the story.

I have personally been on a longer "Harry Potter vacation" than I expected, but I'm planning to sit down with the series at the beginning of 2009. John's book is just the thing to get me ready for diving back in to the world of Hogwarts.

Chances are you already have his book... but if not, you can get it here. Enjoy!

CONGRATS TO BADD!

My kids are not entirely thrilled about the fact that they now go to "big church" every week as well as their own age-appropriate worship/teaching time. But one thing always gets them sitting up straight and excited to see what comes next: A video from, or live performance by, our church's drama group: BADD (which stands for Bel Air Drama Department).

They're good. They're really, really good. Every year, when they hold auditions, I sort of think of trying out... but then I get nervous that I'm just not good enough a writer for them and chicken out. (And yes, they hold auditions, which I think is awesome in the church world where wanting to do something is so often seen as being equivalent to being gifted to do something. To quote C.S. Lewis: "A choir should sing in tune, or it should not sing at all.")

Anyway, someone else has noticed that they're good. Check out this article from Christianity Today on BADD. Then go click on some of the links to watch some BADD videos on YouTube. I guarantee you'll enjoy.

FIREPROOF

I haven't seen Fireproof, I don't know much about it, but I thought this post from Nikki Finke (the blogger/journalist who broke half the scoops during the strike) was interesting and seemed fair. The comments are also interesting -- a few nasty ones, but far fewer than one would expect.


I also found it interesting that Fireproof, which was moderately well-reviewed (50% at Rotten Tomatoes), apparently didn't release review copies to critics before the film opened. Might it have gotten better reviews if they had done so, rather than sending the tacit message that the film was a piece of garbage that they were trying to bury? Or did the filmmakers just assume they would get bad reviews, in essence not trusting what they had.

The movie opened surprisingly well. Not sure how it will hold its second weekend, though.

Let me know what you think of the Nikki Finke article. And, if you've seen it, of the film.