Month: July 2004

Today I head to Beverly Hills to meet with F.J. and discuss the brilliance that is Magnus. My intention was to put some form of outline on paper but I kept changing the story in my head and never made it to the hardcopy step. We’re meeting at the infamous Elixir Tonics & Teas. Actually I have no idea if the place is infamous or not but I know for certain that I will be having an Elixir Tonic. It sounds very mad Scientist to me.
Mel and I finished Season Two last night and if Amazon does as they promised we should be back into Season Three Wednesday night.
I started a new Hero over the weekend. He only has about two hours play time.

His name is “Holy Moses” and I took the pic because “Eve” was standing right behind me and I found the moment too cute for words. Unfortunately, names don’t show up during a screenshot.
But as a team, we haven’t played in several weeks. Dean’s back on the TV show as of yesterday and Melanie has a dozen little Melanie projects underway and I haven’t exactly been sitting around twiddling my big toes. And as for poor Dark Age of Camelot, well we haven’t visited that little world in months and months. Although I’ll log multiple characters in this Friday to pay rent on our three houses.
Looks like Thunder is going to come in around 105 pages. I’ve gone through the first 90 tweaking here and there but after three or four drafts, countless brainstorming sessions and Dean’s current pass of brilliance the story and the resulting script are pretty solid. There’s really not much more to add. It’s a fantastic read. We’ll go out to agents next week.
I spoke with Whitley yesterday about Last Vamp and he came up with just the fix I was looking for. SciFi has been extremely supportive but I’d gotten a sense they weren’t blown away. They continually talked about believability. That’s a given. Not much I can do there but assure them that I will write it as logical and realistic as possible. But at the end of the day it is a story about vampires…or creatures the vampire lore has been based upon throughout history. I will make it realistic to me. That’s all that I can do. But unfortunately what might be believable to me may not be to another. Opinions vary.
Their other big note was characters. That too is a given. And although it’s always the trickiest part to nail, I’m not worried about characters.
The worrisome note came in the form of a question/suggestion which if pursued would unravel the very fabric the story was built upon. And that’s the note that has been haunting me. It’s also the note I think Whitley just found the fix for. Good man, Whit.
When all is said and done, there’s no doubt I can write the story that will hook an audience. Perhaps that’s just a writer’s arrogance talking but I’ve no doubts in that department. The trick is hooking SciFi.

Saturday night, Mel and I spent another evening with the Loreys. And this weekend it looks like we may hit the town with them while adding Jimmy and Maggie to the mix. That should be interesting. You got me, a recovering fist-fighter, and Jimmy the guy who loves to push the envelope.
Jimmy is the sort of guy who will walk up to your table while you are eating and start talking about whatever is on his mind. But don’t be fooled. Jimmy is looking for rude people and if he detects that his being there makes you the slightest bit uncomfortable then he will pull out the big guns. “What’s wrong, am I bothering you? He won’t stop. He will not be denied.
Throw Dean into the mix, who will be standing in the background provoking Jimmy to the best of his ability, and it’s not hard to see that the chances of my falling off the fist-fighting wagon are high.
Because once a year Jimmy’s mouth gets him punched and if that happens my muscle memory will take over. The end result will be Elizabeth, Maggie and Melanie bailing all three of us out of jail. Can’t wait.
Saturday night we’ll spend the evening with the Lussiers but I don’t expect a lot of fighting. Think we’re gonna hit Malibu for some fish then back to their place to watch a flick with scantily clad Japanese women fighting ghosts with swords.
Finally, Paul Hungerford is getting married. The question is, does his wife-to-be know about the chimp?

David Wohl sent another drawing of Volwrath from Demonik. Very cool. Perhaps a bit loud and will most likely be toned down so that the assorted protection tattoos and carvings in his body will show up but a great picture all the same. Brett Russell, the main man at Virtual Reality, sent out a new treatment for the backstory for Tiger Hill to okay before shooting it over to Majesco. And although this is unofficial and very possibly a bold faced lie, there’s a good chance Brett has been secretly shooting me copies of this document for a week.
Dean has hit page 90 on his Thunder pass and I must admit it’s pretty great. I have made three page-one rewrites previously. The story has changed a dozen times but the first draft centered around the New York Mob. We utterly reworked draft two which centered around a female weather girl. And then came a draft closely based on our current version. Although sixty percent of that previous story stayed we added some amazing elements for this current draft which required newly written pages. This time it was Dean who made the pass and again it is fantastic. No doubt this time the story is nailed.
Dean returns to “My Wife and Kids” Next week but will finish the draft this weekend. I’m rewriting behind him solidifying the locations, tightening, polishing and doing whatever character moments jump out as fun or unique. We have successfully created an A-List Thriller which is always the intention but rarely the end result.
We have a fantasy artist who has been waiting on stand-by for the draft. He’s going to do several concept drawings for us. I’m guessing we’ll send it to him next week and within the next two weeks we should be ready to shoot this thing to our agents.
Next week F.J. and I sit down to discuss Magnus. I never completed the outline to my liking so unless I nail that over the weekend, I’ll be going to the meeting with a jumbled story in my head. Still, I love what I have and that always helps. I’ve never gotten a job I wasn’t “stay-up-all-night” excited about.
The SciFi gig I’ll start next week. Mel and I are going out of town in two weeks so my goal will be to finish night one and shoot it to the producers for them to read and come up with notes while I’m gone. When I return I’ll address their notes and begin work on night two.
In the meantime, Mel and I are knee-deep within X-Files season two. I probably have no choice but to snatch season three sometime tomorrow as we are blazing through this thing. It’s a really good show. I never disappeared into it back during its primetime run. If it was on I would watch it but I never set my clock. Now I’m hooked. I think it has to do with the power attached to being able to simply load the next episode rather than being forced to wait a week.
Season one was amazing. This was a show that didn’t need to find itself. It knew what it was and what it was going to be as early as the pilot. Last night Melanie cried. It’s a powerful show. Scully had been abducted and returned two episodes later in a coma. That’s when Melvin Frohike showed up at the hospital. He’s one of the geeky Lone Gunmen known to assist Moulder and Scully from time to time. Frohike is the smallest and the geekiest and never hid his his infatuation with Scully. His showing up had Melanie in tears.
Goofy huh? Of all the moments to provoke an emotional outburst.
Tomorrow I’ll make another pass through Thunder’s current 90 pages. Yesterday’s pass was simply one to solidify the settings…make sure the geography was correct. Today’s pass will be fun. Maybe early in the afternoon Mel and I might go check out the new Borne flick or we could go see I Robot which we skipped last weekend. Then I wouldn’t mind seeing the new Harry Potter again.
I figured out a theory on Harry Potter. The theory is pretty simplistic. I’ve heard countless people complain about the first two films. And in just about every case they’d never read the books. The first two films were utterly loyal to the books. To the point that they even broke some of Hollywood’s rules. These same people love the third flick and say that’s because the books were second to the film this time. Not true. The books grow older with each publishing. Just as Harry and the kids grow older. Just as the readers grow older. The first book is a children’s book. Book three is a early teen’s book. And they keep getting older and older, darker and darker. I loved all three films. Each one more than the previous. But then, I’ve read the books.
Finally tomorrow night I think we have tentative plans with the Loreys. I want to say there was talk of getting together and fixing dinner together. If not our neighbors want to get together with us. I just learned last night that he’s a limo driver. Has his own stretch towncar parked out front. I’ve seen it a dozen times. Shame I didn’t know that two weeks ago. He could have driven us to Sarah Mac.
About six years ago, while I was working for Cunningham and a year or so before JX, Mel was bitten by a cat. Right in the knuckle. Because of a stupid fluke, the knuckle protected the infection from the injected antibiotics. Complications arose. There was talk of losing her arm if they didn’t take her into surgery immediately. After the surgery I was wasted. I remember sitting at the foot of Mel’s bed working on a script that had some moronic life or death deadline attached to it (in retrospect the script never went anywhere and sits on a shelf collecting dust to this day). No one from Cunningham Films came to visit. Only just now am I realizing I hold a grudge for that.
But Dean Riesner came. Every day if I remember correctly. I was spending the night in a chair at the foot of the bed and writing most of the day. Mel didn’t want to be alone. She’s never liked hospitals. Can’t think of anyone who does. Dean would relieve me each day. He’d drive from Encino to Sunset and Vermont every day at the ripe old age of 78 or 79 so that I could go home and get three or four hours sleep. He always showed up dressed to the nines. He always showed up with flowers.

There’s always a reason a woman cries if you have the balls to look deep enough.

I had my SciFi conference call with Jerry and Michael from Cypress and Nora and Eric from SciFi as well as Whitley who sounded like he was on a cell phone in transit. There really hasn’t been any true pressure from SciFi. Creatively they seem very supportive and open to any and every suggestion. The more off the wall the better. I think they really “want” something unexpected. However, that said, their biggest concern is logic. I can go as far as I want but I’d better make sure it’s believable. Of course, believability is an opinion. Mel believes in UFOs and Bigfoot…I’m still looking for proof I can taste or touch. The key will be making it believable for them. Not easy unless you can read minds…which I don’t believe in. Thus the draft begins.
I haven’t started it yet though. Not sure why I do this, perhaps I’m not the only one, but I like or even need to digest for a few days before I start the process. When I start writing I like to disappear into my cave and not come out until I’m done. It’s like a build up of energy I guess is the best way to describe it. I want to start. I’m excited to get back into the script. But the longer I wait the more the excitement builds. Hmm, not unlike really good sex.
So, I’ll dive into it within the next couple of days.
Dean’s nearly finished with his pass on Thunder and I love it. After a quick clean up pass with “make it even better” in mind we should be ready to shoot drafts to ICM and William Morris.
Patrick and I go into Universal on the 3rd to pitch Narcosis to Dylan Clark. Glenn Williamson will be going with us as our producer. We pitched Glenn months ago and with him pitched both Focus (who passed frightened off by the possible big budget) and Paramount (who still refuse to either pass or buy — either have your bowel movement or get off the pot). Patrick and I have both said we’d just write the thing and spec it but one more pitch won’t hurt. Plus I’m 30 pages into the spec draft so no worries really.
David Wohl sent me an artist drawing of Volwrath from Demonik. Wow. I’ve been playing video games since Pong and I’ve never played a character who will look like this one. Can’t add the pic to a public arena though. All still very top secret.
Thus I’ll turn my excitement to the following:

Less than two weeks and counting!!! Sorry SciFi. I clearly won’t be writing 12 hours a day as I’ve done in the past. I will have evil to kill.
Brenna showed up at the forum and requested more kittens. Thus:

This is Bugsy. He’s no kitten but he has the mind of a kitten. He reminds me of Arty from “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape”. In other words, Bugsy is slightly tarded. Recently his new favorite game is taking a poofah in my bathroom floor — three feet shy of the cat box. Not Mel’s bathroom, mind you, my bathroom. I’d like to think he’s not as tarded as he seems.
And finally the City of Heroes must be overrun by crime. Dean’s been working on Thunder…I’ve been playing catch up in anticipation of disappearing into SciFi and Mel’s been both under the weather and now her puter is sitting crashed in the floor awaiting a hard drive from Gateway. Evil is winning.
But the newest patch offered the ability to buy a second heroic outfit. So Blueduck has a new look. I can go back and forth at will.

Hopefully over the next few weeks we can all get caught up and return to the game.

Friday night Mel and I spent the evening with the Loreys.

And of course a very close friend, Dr. Chopin. When spending an evening with Mr. Tater Vodka there are normally one of three results. Buzzed, drunk and stupid. Friday we got stupid.

At some point the four of us ended up out by the pool. I recall being in the Jacuzzi although I don’t remember how I got there. And to my surprise (Mel informed me later) I had evidently decided to just shuck down to my Calvins rather than go through the trouble of asking for a pair or shorts. This obviously resulted in my flashing the entire neighborhood as my white cottons became see-thru. Dean didn’t notice because he was too busy being Mr. Obsessive Compulsive and would not stop sinking to the bottom of the pool so that he could pretend he was dead. Assuming he was playing dead I let him have his fun. But when no one dove in to save him his feelings were more than a little hurt.
Clearly we had entered the realm of Vodka induced stupid.
I vaguely remember Mel and Elizabeth heading to bed. And this is where Dean and I made our big mistake. He asked if I wanted a bacon and egg sandwich. I said no. This broke all the rules. We should have had food. We should have had a glass of water and we should have taken some aspirin. We had none and went to bed.
The next morning I felt like death. Dean too although I’ve a feeling I was stupider the previous evening and therefore more dead by morning. I said a few prayers to the porcelain god and by noon we departed for Thousand Oaks.
That evening we met the Lussiers for some seafood at the highly tasty fish joint at the commons. But the night was called short because by the end of the meal there was a battle between carbs and left-over evil vodka in my belly and I made the executive decision to go home and go to bed.
Today I’m fine except for this little tid-bit of good luck which Mel discovered after a hard crash. Thus while I should have been working on Magnus I have instead spent the day chatting with Joe Moron at Gateway. Devin kept IMing me to hang up on him but I stupidly refused. After a four hour phone call with a wanker who kept pronouncing DOS as DOHS, I ended up fixing it myself…or at least shoving a Band-Aid on it.
Tomorrow it’s back to work. Got the big SciFi conference call. I’ll get notes which I’ll let brew for a day or two before jumping into the script full force. Dean’s got 70 pages in on his Thunder rewrite. And I’ll take the next couple of days to solidify Magnus. Patrick and I will be heading to Universal to pitch Narcosis although I’m still waiting on the whens and wheres. And I should end up with a Demonik meeting to discuss the new direction for the film version as well as some expected dialog polishes on the prototype game level. But this is all a good thing because you know what they say about all play and no work.

Wednesday evening at 5:30 Mel and I were on our way to the big show at the Staples Center. Now I ain’t the biggest and bestest Sarah McLachlan fan but then…I’m a dude. Songs about star crossed lovers who die on the way to happily ever after ain’t exactly my thang. But I’ve learned to appreciate the music, talent and the lyrics after years of living within earshot of Mel’s MP3s. As for Mel…she was stoked. It would be a safe bet to say Sarah’s her favorite. The ride was pleasant and rather than fight the 101 it was decided to take the more scenic PCH.

Now one must understand that Mel’s previous concert experience left a substantial amount to be desired. While I was busy partying my way through 5150, Bon Jovi and the Synchronicity tour Ms. Mellie was dazzling herself with the skin crawling talents of the Pointer Sisters and Air Supply. She was certainly aware of her creepy track record and by the time we reached the ocean she could barely contain herself.

We fought our way past security…which was ample…because as we all know any gathering of the McLachlanites is sure to bring the Taliban out of the woodwork. Once inside we split up for a romantic dinner of Dominos and Mickey D’s which we scarfed down quickly so we could find our seats before the song spit started to fly. And it certainly did fly. From the 3rd row we were in perfect spray range. It should be noted that McLachlan spittle tastes a little like butterscotch.
And speaking of 3rd row seat spittle this experience has revealed yet another advantage to the entertainment agent. Concert tickets. Could it have been easier? I called Lazar’s assistant, Trey, months ago. I had barely mentioned the concert when Trey interupted and said he’d take care of it. Good man, Trey, good man.
Now, as I said, not Sarah’s number one fan. But I must admit I got caught up in the music and the atmosphere. And let’s take a moment to discuss said atmosphere. As a therapist-proclaimed rescuer of women, I was in hero Heaven. Every female South of Saint Nick’s summer home was scuttling around wearing her tightest. You couldn’t walk three feet without Mel or myself proclaiming…”Helloooooo Nurse.” Single men and lesbians take note, if you live in concert range then you might consider hitting a McLachlan concert. Like shooting chicks in a barrel. Of course, Melanie got more phone numbers than me. Single men and Lesbians take note. Perhaps you should just stick close to Mel and pick off the table scraps. There were more women buzzing around her than there is stupid buzzing around Kentucky. She was like Kurtz and the Staples Center was her jungle. Had she dropped a hanky she would have started a lesbian riot. It truly is freakishly weird.

The show was…well it was very good. Better than good. Rarely seen Mel so happy. You gotta consider how big a fan she is and that we were hearing the music we played when we first started dating…she was overwhelmed to say the least. Pretty lights, everyone around you singing and swaying. It was hard to resist. Half way through the first song Mel was crying. The girl two rows over was crying. The tattoo’d chicks three rows up. Mel squeezed my hand, stared at me with big puppy dog eyes welled with tears and proclaimed that this was the song she was listening to when she fell in love with me. I lost my battle with masculinity.
I became a woman. I sang. I swayed to the music. I had an overwhelming desire to cuddle kittens. I was so cranked up on feminine hormone that estrogen seeped from my lower orifices. And I’m damn near certain I lactated through most of the second half.
After three encores we floated with the crowd out of the Staples Center and located Tom, our freakishly tall driver. Who, by the way, seemed much better looking to me after the show than before it.

On the drive home we debated the issue of late night food and ended up filling baskets at the Westlake Village Ralph’s while Tom kept the car idling. It should be noted that only the truest of rednecks would take a limo to the grocery at a hundred bucks an hour.
It was a long time before I was able to fart like a man again. The best I could produce were annoyingly high pitched poots for several hours.
Mel and I have been working our way through X-Files season one. So what better way to end a romantic evening than with a little Moulder and Scully and some good ol’ fashioned alien abduction stories.
Wednesday morning I was back to normal. I picked up Devin for a day of computer tweaking and gaming. Mel slept most of the day because her life is so freaking cush. Dean has been tearing through his draft of Thunder and by the time he hit page 51 he joined Devin and I online for some Quake II deathmatch. It took some tweaking to get the connection solid. Dean was having some lag. You’d think having a computer guru sitting next to you would be a quick fix for any lag but Devin found Dean’s discomfort a splendid excuse to run around collecting extra ammo.
I won game one and by game two Dean unleashed his special power. Chris. I got Devin screaming in one ear and Chris screaming in the other. When I killed Dean Chris would scream that I was cheating and when I got killed he would proclaim the evil destroyed. Twerp. Of course, as is a father’s duty to keep a child grounded in reality…Dean was quick to inform Chris, that, “Yes, I was a cheater and utterly evil.”
Course, it wasn’t all fun and games…it never is. I got some notes on Demonik. I figured out a spin on Magnus. Blake Washer from the F13 boards called and we caught up on current events. I spoke with Patrick and he gave me some news that made my blood boil…but that’s his life and you’ll have to read his journal for those tid-bits of drama. Mark Haslett called and we chatted about his “Last House on the Left” and I think we came up with some interesting twists. We left the conversation with his going off to put the new ideas into an outline. I doubt I offered very much but I know sometimes it’s nice just to have someone you can bounce ideas and clear your mind with.
Tomorrow…or today rather, I assume I’ll either tool over to Dean’s to work on Thunder or I’ll finish Magnus or I may drag Mel to I Robot. Either way, at least I’m no longer lactating.