Nov 15, 2005

The Interviewer

I wrote the following in my head last night, when I couldn't sleep.  It's about my job.

Sometimes the Interviewer interviews six people a day.  Some are mothers looking for work, for a little extra cash, while their children are at school. Some are actors who want evening hours, so their days will be free, for the auditions that they're sure will soon be calling.  Some are new arrivals, seeking a foothold in the city.  

The Interviewer is new to the city. Interviewing is his foothold.  

Many of those new arrivals that he interviews soon find themselves in exciting footholds somewhere else, and they turn down the boring foothold that the Interviewer offers.  

The Interviewer wonders why he never got any of those exciting footholds that he was interviewed for.

The Interviewer hires transcriptionists to type what they hear.  What they hear is Entertainment.  Some raw footage from reality television.  Some broadcast news.  Some DVD bonus material.  But mostly, celebrity interviews, promoting this movie or that TV show, discussing this production or that memory, recounting how their career first found a foothold. 

In those transcribed interviews, the celebrity always has a name.  

But the interviewer is always just called "INTERVIEWER."

Nov 7, 2005

I Am Sick of Clocks

Doesn't it bother anyone else on Earth that we go through our entire lives measuring time exactly the same way? Something arbitrary and awkward, persisting through lifetime after lifetime, like a wallpaper that no one cares for, but everyone's too lazy to replace? I'm sick of seconds and minutes and hours and all of it. I'm sick of circles and hands. Give me a fresh outlook on the whole ordeal.

Nov 5, 2005

All Greek to Thee...

So much to do, and so few people to share it with...

Some people will follow small snatches of this update, but in whole, this post means nothing to nobody but
me. I wish it did.

I want to revise the main Misplaced Planet page (it's already 25% done, in secret). I want my sounds and
audio page up, playing MP3s. I want lyrics restored to the writing section. I want my productions page upgraded. I want Storybook Park to have its own animation on WilderWorks. I want my Bio and Resume section to not look silly anymore.  I want Stirling to send me a new design for OMKF, so I can implement the many changes I've imagined for it.

We have our podcast up, transmitting video, which for now means Brains!! We have the trailer up for the horror movie, Antebellum. We have a composer working on the score for Momentary Engineering. We have the script for the Sci-Fi Short Film Contest hammered out, and that's probably going to be called Signal Decay. A million baby spiders and a dental office. I have must coming in for podcasting and hosting, from Gwynne, from Caroline, from Stirling, and even some good-old radio from Sodini.

I want Darwin's Kids DVDs. I want the Alumni Special filmed. I want a Reunion Special filmed. I want to
rewrite and refilm A Kingdom by the Sea, because the trailer I found is so cool, so unfulfilled. I want Anniversary Dinner edited.

Now, Storybook Park is done and off to competitions. I want to win. I want an agent. I want to stir up interest. I know what I want to do with A Darkling Plane, which includes reverting to the title Burying
Amelia Waverly
, and making it a pure supernatural thriller. I feel Cusp of Aquarius really taking shape, all on its own, particularly with the concept of Claire predicting her own death, perhaps even publicly staking her career on it (as per the article from India). It will be a romance with a sting of sadness. Meanwhile, I was bizarrely inspired by a couple desktop icons, and suddenly I know what I want to do with Intelligence,
which has set stagnant for three years. All I I can say is "1950s Pulp Science Fiction Extravaganza," and those are the magic words that revive an idea almost eight years old.

If Caroline ever returns, takes the job I've offered her, and finally settles into a routine of writing something other than Broadway musicals, maybe Ladies & Gentlemen or Insignificant Others will return to
the land of the living. Maybe we could figure out that story about When the Oil Runs Out. Which would leave the only projects in remission Occult Blood and Blaring Static.  Of course, I can't imagine a time when I would touch either of those again. One is flawed but finished. The other is great (in my estimation) but unfinishable, a ragged expression, never to be a clean, tight little package.

So much. So much. The lists are always longer than the sheets of paper I tear off to doodle them down
on. And still, I work 4 hours on Saturday at The Transcription Company, so that I can spend the money I make on keyboards for writing... And the most that I write are unintelligible itineraries of what might be, what might be, if I could just find the time.

Oct 15, 2005

Like Remembering.

I love the smell after a paper match has burned. It smells like remembering.

Oct 11, 2005

12th Annual Writer's Network


Congratulations! You have been chosen as a quarter-finalist in the 12th Annual Writer’s Network Screenplay & Fiction Competition.

Your submissions received very high marks in both storytelling and concept. As one of 661 quarter-finalists advancing to this stage out of over 1,800 entrants, you will now compete for the semi-finalist round of the competitition.

We will notify all semi-finalists by mail no later than November 30. If you’d like to view a list of the quarter-finalists or the upcoming semi-finalists for the 12th Annual Writers Network Screenplay & Fiction Competition, please visit www.fadeinonline.com after November 30, 2005.

Oct 5, 2005

Words on a Final Revision

Revision 3 of Storybook Park is finally finished. I've never worked on a screenplay, without interruption, for so long. And I still love it. The vastly revised, improved, and completed version is right here.


Magical realism. Everything should be slightly elevated. Characters should speak a little more interestingly than real people. Images should be a little more crisp. It's a romantic comedy. Sub-genre, fantasy adventure. It should get your heart going, make you laugh, leave you believing in love, or at least aching for it. It should be a fun ride, but should offer up deeper, simpler truths, when reflected upon.


First, it's about following a dream, a goal, a desire, even to doom, or the grave, even if it seems clear there's nothing to be had at the end. Otherwise, life is backing into the grave, moved by fear, by what is unwanted. This is about questioning reality and answering dreams. About passionately following something, in hope that following it will make it there. Because even if death catches you before you can it, at least you went to the grave chasing something beyond the mundane. At least yours senses were filled, life-long, with the sight of it ahead, driving you onward.

Second, it's about sexuality, relationships, and love. About old-fashioned obligation and guilt, how they trap people, back them into commitments that don't work. Practical sex. And it's about modern cruelty. Sex for power, sex as a game, sex as a commodity. Cynical sex. And it's about something better than those. Love were your heart is stolen. Not reasoned with, not bargained for, not guilted, or obligated, or persuaded. A love that defies reason and calculation. That cannot be rationalized. That is a victory over self. That kind of love, it must be risky, or else it's chosing someone too safe, someone you're not afraid of hurting. If there's no risk, there's no love.

Third, it's about Death and Sex. It says: they're what life is about. It says: they're the magic. We shouldn't hide them from ourselves. We shouldn't hide them from our children. Death makes us mortal, and Sex (and its sister, Love) makes it alright. This story is a celebration of sexuality, a celebration of mortality. Neither are bad. Neither are to be ashamed of. Neither are "dark." Both are magical and wonderful and life would be meaningless and hopeless without them.

Fairy tales remember this.

Death, mortality, love, sex, hope, dispair -- these are the only transcendent things. Not the petty things of day-to-day life. These are the things we must turn our eyes to more often, because we're forgetting them, and it makes us selfish. We've confused reality with experience. Experience is often petty -- bickering, relationships, possessions, status, the physical, and the selfish. The important aspects of reality are those that transcend individual experience. They are fiction truer than fact. And they are the truths that this screenplay is celebrating.

Sep 30, 2005

With Which to Go to the Movies

I want pity only if it moves someone to save me from this pitiable position.

Sep 5, 2005


Congratulations J. Wilder Konschak,"Storybook Park" has reached the Quarterfinalist round in the 2005 Slamdance Screenplay Competition. We received over 2,000 submissions and 200 of the best have been selected for the quarterfinals.

Aug 11, 2005

Good Guesses

So, I guess I got a job.

And I guess I start Monday.

And I guess it's not too far of a drive, and they won't make me pay for parking, and it's full time, and it's enough to pay all my bills, with a tad to spare. So I guess I should be pleased.

But I wish I could get over this week's intense case of writer's block. I'm going to take a break from Storybook Park, I believe. At least until I get more feedback, more inspiration. It feels too much like beating my head against a wall, and I don't want to kill it. Caroline should soon be back from Peru and points beyond, meaning I can return to work on Insignificant Others.

Meanwhile, I've been working on the Misplaced Planet Website. Once I have that in a presentable shape again, I'll move on to cleaning up my own website... Don't know why. Guess it counts as a hobby.

Aug 9, 2005

And Probably Will Be For Life

It's becoming pretty clear, I'm not the piano man.

It's becoming pretty clear, I'm the real estate novelist, who never had time for a wife.

Jul 26, 2005

What Happened?

When the only thing standing between you and poverty is the script for Highlander 5, you can't help staying up all night re-evaluating your life and watching pirated episodes of the Dave Chapelle Show.

(Dear MPAA, I was kidding about the pirating. I only pirate software.)

Jul 24, 2005

Running out of Ramen

Okay. I'd like a job now. Anybody?

Jul 15, 2005

Ain't Gotta Chance, Cause All They Do Is Dance

What a week it has been. I had my first and last day of work on Monday. On Tuesday, a management company requested one of my screenplays, one that needed revision. Wednesday I had another interview, this one with a company I really liked (and probably will never hear from again) called Sobini Films. Thursday I finished three non-stop days of revision on Storybook Park, though it was technically 8 AM Friday morning. And Friday I mailed it.

Also, somewhere in there, news came down that the director is still interested in Insignificant Others after reading my writing sample, Ladies & Gentlemen. Which puts that on the pressure cooker for the next big race to the finish.

Next week, I'm back to sending out resumes, and trying to get the car insured.

Jul 11, 2005

They Wanted Me to Pay for Parking...

So I quit the job.

Jul 10, 2005

Came West to Make my Fortune

It is a sad day when the job you accept has only one benefit, especially when that benefit is that the hours will make it easy for you to interview for other jobs.

Againt my better judgement, I've accepted a part-time, temporary, low-paying job in the accounting department of Sutton, Barth, & Vennari: Talent Agents. It will be an achievement if I can convince my brain to allocate enough memory to store those three names.

The job market is shit.

Months and dozens of interviews and it comes to this -- 9:00 to 1:00, 5 days a week, with 45 minutes driving either way. Which means, with gas prices, I might net two hours of pay a day. Which would make my take-home, at the end of the month, less than full-time minimum wage. Less than working at In-N-Out Burger. Not enough to pay the rent.

It's sometimes hard to remember why I left New York and almost $20 an hour and people I knew.

But given a chance, I still remember. I still remember...

I am most disappointed with this job because I wished for a tiny measure of stability. A job I could settle into. Settle some debt. Instead, it's yet another ugly, temporary step. If I'm still there in six months, it will be an absolute embarrassment. So, the beat goes on.

Jun 7, 2005

It Probably Means Nothing to You...

But it's the difference between night and day to me.

May 14, 2005

Trying not to Feel Old at 25

I suppose the meeting went well.

Traveling 3000 miles - by plane, train, and automobile - builds an event up beyond what any could really acheive. We decided that a partnership will be formed, and Misplaced Planet will become a legal entity. And we decided that we will do something. Write the script in the next six months, begin filming in a year or so. I hoped that a decision would be made about what that something should be, but it's been officially left to Caroline and me to create something for everyone to rally around...

Cusp of Aquarius? Ladies & Gentlemen? The Jumpers? Storybook Park? Short films?

If it works out, writing with Caroline could be very positive.... I would no longer face this daunting task alone... The vague goal of writing something "that people will like" becomes more surmountable with a fresh perspective... with someone to like it or dislike it as passionately and personally as I might... It is the minimum amount of teamwork possible, but it may be more than enough.

Meanwhile, back in the practical world of LA, I have decided not to pursue the internship/job at York Entertainment. Alli is there. It is her world, her connections. I need to have my time. To sort things out. To seek my own path. To register my car. To transfer my license. To test the progress I've made and see where it takes me. I am following pure intuition.

This remains, as always, a time of transition - a time of vague, protracted beginnings... Working with Caroline may restore my ability to believe, by having my lot thrown in with another. Misplaced Planet may grow into something meaningful, given time.

Time. Time. Time. Given infinite world, and time. Everlasting.

May 11, 2005

How I'm Feelin' / So Revealin' to me

I feel like I'm waiting on my execution, but the Governor is an old friend of mine, so I'm hoping he remembers the good times, and gives the warden a call.

May 9, 2005

On Fumes to the Old Coast

Back in New Jersey for a week. Trying to sort out my brain. Divide into keep, sell, and trash. Put up peg boards. Fold winter clothes into rubbermade. I've been getting a low in LA. Emptied. Starved for encouragement. To keep writing.

I met with Caroline on Saturday. Got trapped in my apartment for an extra hour or two when the garage gate broke my way. And I'm right there with the pun.

She says she's in for the Misplaced Planet Partnership. Says she's interested in both Cusp of Aquarius and Ladies and Gentlemen, but until her midnight calls begin waking me with ideas, I can't help feeling on my own in here.

Thursday, I'll be meeting with her, Shaun, Benni, Zak, and Stirling... I can't even figure out what I'm going to say... How was it that I used to make these things happen? What is there to say? I want to make movies. I want to stop getting shot down. I want to care wildly about something. To do it, I need some energy in return, because I'm emptied.

I'll tell about the daunting duties that face me when I return to LA.

May 1, 2005

My Haiku

and do nothing else
you need never hear the same
picture or painting

Apr 10, 2005

First Days

Tomorrow is my first day at The Steel Company, where I will be employed for approximately one month. I am overwhelmingly, almost comically sad about leaving Niad. I've never liked anyplace I've worked ever before, and I go and fall in love with a place that doesn't pay me anything.


At least I know I'm capable of liking a place I work. Sort of like my relationships: evidence that things are working, but not working out. Yet.

More tomorrow.

Apr 6, 2005

All Good Things...

My second job interview is tomorrow. It is with the Steel Company on Sunset Boulevard, Hollywood. They say there's parking without meters on the East side, on Corey. But they're just film aquisition & distribution people -- what do they know about parking?

Still, they had their hand in distributing Farenheit 9/11 overseas, so I suppose they can't be all bad. Beyond that, I don't know much about them. It's a temporary position, which will probably involve more data-entry than script-coverage, so I slacked on the research. I'm meeting someone named Tyler, and he's in charge of "aquisitions." Wendi tells me that it's a good company, and I'll meet a lot of important people, which is important.

Of course, what's more important, is if it pays >$10/hour, so I can cover my rent, my bills, food, and my gas, at almost $3/gallon...
If it weren't for my tax refund, a rebate from Office Max, and a donation from my mother, I'd be completely broke. My savings are all but exhausted.

Meanwhile, my last day at Niad is looming. The 15th. It's a rare thing: I don't want to leave. I'm not being paid, the work isn't a thrill, and sometimes tedious, but I've grown attached to the people. To Jennifer and Wendi. The spirit. I feel confortable around them. I like being around Jordan (age 3) and Sydney (age <1). I feel at home in the office, and it's barely been three months.

Hopefully, like all endings, this is a beginning. And unlike jobs hanging Christmas decorations, I pray that these three months will be more than a fascinating non-sequitor in my life.

This weekend I am going to write detailed notes on two client scripts, Riccione Five by Michael Lazarou, and The Prisoner by Adam Cozad. I am honored that Wendi holds my opinion on scripts as worthwhile. I am unusually positive and hopeful that she and/or Jennifer will take a liking to one or more of my screenplays, once they read them. I hope this feeling of tenative confidence does not subside. That I don't get sucker-punched.

Like my time at Niad, this sense of calm is comforting, and I am in no hurry to imagine or move on to unfamiliar, unfriendly futures.

Apr 1, 2005

Agency Slavery

The interview with Linda McDonough went very well. But, as I've said many times before: that means I won't get it. Par example: I thought that the Niad interview, and the Hospital interview, and the transcription interview all went terribly. I got all those jobs. Yet -- no mere online journal could sustain the weight of the many interviews that I thought went swimmingly. And I got none of them.

Anyway. After parking and peeing in the Beverly Center, I walked to their orange building on lovely, busy La Cienega. Their office was upstairs and across from a little theater stage, which they also own. The air conditioning was broken. It was stuffy and smelled old. I waited and read about dogs.

The interview. We talked for about 45 minutes. We got along. I liked them. They were honestly interested in Darwin's Kids and my thesis, A Kingdom by the Sea, and with my hospital work too. But I soon sensed that they had their hearts set on someone who'd "worked in the trenches" as an agency assistant -- one of those poor, ill-treated slaves, whom I hope to shimmy past paying my dues as. Anyway, I pray that I've paid my dues elsewhere. Perhaps while putting a giant Santa Clause hat on a reproduction of Michaelangelo's David, in the middle of a Casino floor.

Afterward, Jennifer called to get feedback, and my suspicions were confirmed. My ability to read people remains on target. They were very impressed with me, but I won't be getting the job.

I don't want to have to work at an agency.

Mar 29, 2005

True Hollywood Story

Having spent almost 80 days at Niad Management (weekends included), having recieved from the bargain one futon with mattress, one feather couch, one chez lounge, one original movie poster from A Fish Called Wanda, over a dozen frames, uncounted free script copies, one trip to Disney Land (including California Adventure), and uncounted lunches...

I am tomorrow going to my first interview that they've arranged for me. It is at Odd Lot Entertainment, (formerly Dee Gee Entertainment) for the position of assistant to VP Linda McDonough.

Here's an artcle from Variety about it:

McDonough joins Odd Lot

Linda McDonoughLinda McDonough has joined Odd Lot Entertainment as VP of development. McDonough was most recently VP of development at Flower Films, where she spent the last four years. Before joining Flower, McDonough spent four years at 1013 Prods.

Odd Lot is a privately financed partnership of Gigi Pritzker, Deborah Del Prete and Patrick Aluise. Company plans to develop and produce films budgeted between $10 million and $40 million and has development capital in addition to the funding to make talent offers.

Meanwhile, Wendi Niad has taken my scripts from her inbox to her bedside. One can only suspect that there will be reading soon. On this, much hinges. Amongst those scripts is the first complete draft of Storybook Park, which was completed six days early, on March 14th, 2005. Click here to read it.

Also, Antebellum has secured it's location, and will go into principle photography on April 15-18th.

Stay tuned for Fellowship, Contest, and Job updates! EXCITING!

Feb 1, 2005

A Friend of My Sister's, and My Friend's Sister's First Love, and so on, and so on...

NJ Marine Killed In Iraq

VINELAND, N.J. A 21-year-old Marine due to come home next week on leave from Iraq was killed on Monday, his father said.

Lance Cpl. Harry Swain IV, who was serving his second tour of duty in Iraq, last had an online conversation with his father on Saturday.

Two days later, Vineland Police Sgt. Harry Swain III received an ominous cell phone call from two Marines. “They said they were standing outside, and I told them I had moved,” he told The Press of Atlantic City. Just an hour earlier he had watched a television news story about the Marine deaths.

Swain’s younger son, 19-year-old Jaymes, also is serving in Iraq. The father said he wanted Jaymes to leave the combat zone now that Harry has been killed.

Harry Swain IV grew up with his mother in Millville, while Jaymes Swain spent much of his childhood in Vineland. The brothers stuck together while both were stationed at Camp Lejeune, N.C.

Harry Swain IV was a machine gunner with the 1st Battalion, 2nd Marines. He had signed up the day after the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attacks.

“We’re so proud of him,” their father said of Harry. “It was only 11 more days before he came home. This is so horrible.”

(© 2005 The Associated Press.)

Jan 11, 2005

Goin' to California with an Achin' in my Heart

When I awake in the morning, I will be leaving for Los Angeles.

Wish me luck. I will need it, just to get there. And once I get there, I will need it more, to find an instant apartment. And once I have an apartment, I'll really start needing that luck, to make the most of the chances I'm given.

 So, again, Wish Me Luck.

Jan 9, 2005

Happy Birthday Bacon!

Today was Bacon's second birthday! I made it back to Millville just in time to wish him a happy one. He was very excited. He was given a hamburger for dinner, by my mother. Now he is snoozing. Here is a picture.

Jan 8, 2005

Internship Update

We would like to offer you the intern position and thank you for your patience through this whole process. We would like your first day here to be on the 18th of January.

Jennifer Graff
Niad Management

Ergo, life has become crazy. Ever tried to arrange an apartment and a cross-country move, 3000 miles from home, while working 14 hours a day? I'm going to arrive home on Monday night. Wednesday afternoon, I drive off for a new home.

Jan 4, 2005

Internship Update

"I am still going through resumes. Wendi and I will come to a decision by the end of the week. I hope the job in Vegas is going well and you had a wonderful holiday.

Jennifer Graff
Niad Management

Here's to hoping. In other news, tonight I had buffalo wings and a belgium waffle for midnight dinner, alone in Las Vegas. I sat at the bar, smoked two cigarettes, had one whiskey sour, and got stared at by a woman seated beside a fat older man. I took a shower, and Joan Rivers still represents everything I dislike about Hollywood, and perhaps even America: plastic surgery, snarky obsession with appearances, celebrity without talent or creative output, bad jokes, and nepotism (see Melissa Rivers).

Jan 3, 2005

The Thumbs Are Too Big!

The first time I stayed in Vegas, the room wasn’t ready at 4:00 PM. They checked me in anyway, and I was greeted by a completely wrecked suite. A party had been held by the previous occupants. There were streamers, deflated balloons, and several disposable stryrofoam coolers, floating full of melted ice and empty beer cans. The bathroom was an explosion of drink-mixing aftermath.

This time, our flight from Philly was delayed, and then late in arriving, getting us here around 11PM, local time. The Flamingo messed up the reservations, so I’m bunking with my brother, instead of him with my father. And better. When we walked into the suite after midnight, it still hadn’t been cleaned.

I’m trying to decide which time was worse. This time, all over the carpet, we had several bottles of shampoo, opened and drooling on their sides. And, of course, there was a used condom, carefully laid across the telephone receiver. A gift to housekeeping. And me.

Unfortunately, waiting for a sanitization team wasn’t a big problem. The morons scheduling this shindig wanted us to work right then. So, we slogged off to Caesar’s, where we started removing Christmas trees and garland, the same I put up a month ago. Wrapping them in plastic-wrap. Driving them across the entire complex. Loading them into a trailer. As it started to rain.

We did that for 10 hours, local time. Which meant, I was up for 28 hours. Now, after a slender eight of sleep, I’m back to work in minutes.

And it’s been a cold, desert rain, ever since.