Category: Journal

Normally Hollywood shuts down in December. I for one have grown accustomed to the tumbleweed blowing down Santa Monica Blvd. But this has been the busiest silly season of my stupid career. At least from a standpoint of feeling the pressure to write.

I did have the Widow to pull me through. What an amazing machine. It’s lightweight, lightning fast and stays supernaturally cool while writing or Warcrafting in bed.

Over December thru yesterday I spent many an evening sitting in bed with this little darling in my lap; writing either Alien Pig Farm 3000 or Clock Tower. As of yesterday I finished Pig Farm and I gotta say, what a blast to write. I really do love Southern comedy. Perhaps due to the fact that I’m a Southern moron. But in truth, the widescreen Widow can be a distraction. World of Warcraft looks un-freaking-believable. I can’t believe I’ve played this game as long as I have on a big square format. Oh well, live and learn.

I’ve been taking part in this odd little business for over ten years now and Clock Tower wins the golden ring for most challenging gig. The end result is unfolding into something quite wonderful, but the path taken to get to this point was pretty miserable. For the first time in ten years I honestly considered returning to the simple life of driving nails for a living. High highs and low lows. However the lows took me by surprise this time. Let’s keep the ol’ fingers crossed that the coming highs are proportionate.

Mel and I joined Allen as we ventured two blocks North to Don’s Christmas party. Now, I love a good Hollywood party as much as you do but there’s something refreshing about a good old fashion, “normal people party.”

Don’s a big collector of…well…everything. His house isn’t like a museum, it is a museum in my opinion.
I spoke with David Wohl earlier. Big Dave created Witchblade and Darkness, both of which are up for film versions. I figured he knew that but was passing the info along. I’m working with Dave and Brad on the Psychopath gig although we met back in the Demonik days. I hear Majesco has fallen on hard times so Demonik is on hold for a time. I would like to feel and show sympathy at a time like this. But I shant.

I have an idea and I’m assuming it’s an expensive one but I really don’t care. I want what I want. That old fart, Dean Riesner used to say, “I want everything I got coming to me.” Good man. Good rule to follow. I’m thinking when we build, I’d like to build a Starbucks on the back and/or side of the house. A private Starbucks as I think about it. You gotta have a Starbucks VIP pass and only I have the power to hand them out. Thus if you are a card carrying SB VIP then you can pop over, swipe your card and grab a Mocha anytime you want. By the way, she’s gonna need to be open 24 hours a day for those late night writing or Warcrafting marathons.
I’m also thinking the VIP Cards need to be fully satellite integrated. Thus if you tick me off, I can log in to Spacelab and revoke your pass with the click of a button. I would also request some special VIP Card enhancements in case you really piss me off, then I can toggle a switch and blow one of your limbs off in a nasty blast of fire. Oh, and the cards should also have the ability to listen in on your phone calls. That is all. For now.

Big fan of the ol’ Amazon. If you order early enough it sure is sweet. We did all the family shopping online again this year. I guess it takes the personal touch out of Christmas but how personal can you really be when the family lives on the opposite coast? Hey, don’t get me wrong. I ain’t complaining. You guys just stay where you are. I ain’t requesting a visit. I love you all dearly…from a distance.

Mel and I went out for PopTarts at 10 PM on Christmas Eve. Actually that’s not true. We went out much earlier looking for a nice sit down dinner. The pickin’s were slim but worth it. We ended up at the Whaling Station where they let you select and kill the cow before dinner. I let Mel kill the cow this time. You can choose from an assortment of weaponry. Mel chose a battle Ax with glowing runes which was used in the movie, Weekend at Bernie’s. Oh, and we had the fish that night.

Christmas morning rolled around and we, once again, spent way too much stinkin’ money. But Santa got me a 23inch widescreen. I think Mel got some diamonds and sapphires but who cares, right? She got rocks. I got widescreen DLP! Santa clearly loves me bestest.

After we buried the place under a pile of wrapping paper we popped over to Plumes in Monterey for some decadent coffee…

…and caroling. We didn’t order the caroling. Then it was back to the house where, oddly enough, I wrote into the wee hours. Writing is great, but like I’ve said before, sometimes it would be nice to just hit things with a hammer.

New Years Eve found us walking the streets of Monterey with the Peninsula residents. I’d spent the day writing and earned the night out. Of course, I’d earned the night out regardless. All work and no play makes Jack want to ax things.

I gotta think there aren’t a ton of places in the world where you can enjoy an evening of Rap within the walls of your local Wells Fargo.

And you can never go wrong by bringing in the New Year on coffee and free cartoons. Although we snuck away pre-midnight.

We drove out to the point where we sent the gold bands to sleep with the fishes. It’s a new year. A new life. And a new element on the periodic table.

Although I was officially commenced on Clock Tower a month ago, the real writing couldn’t take place until after another meeting with the boys and girl at Mayhem. But now that heavy lifting is out of the way, the magic may begin.
You know, they say that every cigarette you smoke is eleven seconds off of your life. Every eleven seconds spent in LA is three days off your life. Do the math.

Of course the lights are perty.
And I got a chance to visit with my buddy Patrick when we met Lou Arkoff at the Screen Gems to pitch a little jewel to Eric. I should probably hold off on the details but what I can say is this: it’s a period piece about two star crossed lovers in the gay porn industry who discover that Angela Jolie is a robot sent from a far galaxy to steal our women. Hilarity ensues.

We stayed in the Beverly Hills. Not for the snoot factor although I’m a big fan of snoot. And not for the five star conveniences of 24 hour room service and XBox 360 in the room. If you ask me, any hotel within farting distance of smog, drug dealers and/or traffic sounds should be punched in the skull for proclaiming itself five stars. No, we stayed there because it was centrally located to my assorted meetings.
My only regret?

I should’a jumped.

The moment we pulled back into town…hard to explain. It’s like finally getting the splinter out. Or finally setting the groceries in the kitchen after you clearly carried too many up from the car. Or that afternoon nap after a really good orgasm. Or the belch that follows a perfectly grilled steak. It’s like finding a twenty in an old pair of jeans. Or watching a football game in Hi-Def. It’s a burden lifted and a fresh breath of air.

We exist in a world where we can join Elliot and Allen for an afternoon walk.

We live in a place where you can play golf with deer and after 18 holes you can shoot the deer and dine on the tender beef without the sounds of multiple wafer thin wanna-be actresses regurgitating in the bathroom.
In Jesus name. Amen.

I did not intend to forget you, Sweet Sweet November. Mel bought me an Ubah watch with DirecTV and James Bond Laser. Dean turned 34 and 53 all in the same month. Mel cooked bird for Thanksgiving but I didn’t take a picture because I was so freaking hungry. I joined forces with Brooklyn Weaver and Jake Wagner to manage the world of Todd. I dove into Clock Tower’s first draft while Frankel dove into finishing the contracts. And the new Widow gaming notebook arrived. It’s faster than my Alienware and that’s saying something.

Our little hometown had it’s first fall of snow. Granted it fell out of a big ol’ machine but smoke’em if you got’em I say.

None of that liberal crap in my hometown. We love to spank our children and for those who’ve been really bad…we make them climb stuff.
Jake and Brooklyn have set a pitch next week for an adaptation of the game The Suffering. Excellent game, by the way. Tough nut to crack as far as story goes. But it promises to be a great adventure. I’ll be pitching MTV and Stan Winston.

Boink turned 24.

F.J. has been pushing me to finish Sleepers and I don’t blame him. It could be a ton of fun. And a ton of work. Three books with Tokyopop. That’s a lot of writing. Not a ton of money in the short run but it’s an investment.

I turned in book one on the little Tommy Jane/Stevie Niles project lovingly referred to as “Alien Pig Farm 3000” and have started outlining books 2 thru 5.

I have often wondered if there’s any legitimacy to this whole reincarnation thing. All I can say is that if it’s true, I just hope I don’t come back as a high school band.

I slid the first pass of Clock Tower to Mr. Luff. It wasn’t the official pass, therefore it’s not an official draft. It’s what they like to call a producer’s draft. Translation…free work. But it is what it is. Of all projects I’ve worked on, this one had the most development. We have gone down every path imaginable looking for just the right fit. With so many different ideas coming and going I actually didn’t mind giving a sneak peek this time.
We’ve chatted a few times and so far I’m not against the changes he’s suggesting.

Woodrow visited the Fair outside of Goldshire. I got shot out of a cannon. I was supposed to land on a target in Crystal Lake (that’s right all you Voorhees fans, there’s a lake in World of Warcraft by that very name). Of course, I missed the lake altogether and landed in a tree.

Santa, he’s so freaking cute.

Mel, Dean and I joined forces with Amer and Kindrid to take down the evil of Zul. We kilt everything.
Okay, that’s it for now. I’m gonna crawl back into The Suffering pitch and see what magic I can make.

I suppose the blame, were it to be placed, should go to Victor and Sean. Victor wrote a little thriller script and Sean pulled the loot together so that he could direct it. And now, 25 years later, to the sheer horror of Roger Ebert, people still think on it fondly. No one takes it too seriously…

…well other than Adam Marcus, no one takes it too seriously. It is what it is. Just a goofy night out at the movies and a historical entrance into shock and bloody exploitation. I gotta give credit where credit is due. Were it not for this little franchise, I might possibly still be driving nails.
A few years ago, shortly after Jason X wrapped, and long before it actually got a release date, a little fella by the name of Peter Bracke started writing about the history of this little Franchise. Peter came out to Hollywood to be a screenwriter and I’ve no doubt he will be, but this little project came first. We met at a little diner on Melrose and I proceeded to tell him how amazing the experience had been “on the record” and how miserable it had been “off the record”. Of course, this is how it is on every movie that has ever been made, as well as every movie that will ever be made. Such is life in Hollywood.
Now, several years later, with the coming release of Peter’s book, what started out as a very small book release party…got bigger. From Friday the 13th to Freddy vs. Jason you couldn’t throw a duck without hitting an alumni.
While a flock of fans were viewing the original film on the big screen the rest of us where signing books.

That’s only a fraction by the way. It didn’t take long to find alumni stretching their backs and rubbing their hands. During one of those back stretching moments I bumped into Victor himself.

The man who wrote the original. He drives a Harley and works in the Soap biz these days and was a hoot to chat with.

Then it was back to signing. Mel had ventured off with the Cunninghams to watch the movie on the big screen. And after a couple hours of signing I rushed off to the pottie where I ran into Jason Voorhees taking a leak. He was without hockey mask but I know the clothes and he was a big feller. He was there to cut the cake with his machete. New Line’s contribution to the event.
Ken, the actor who played Jason in FvsJ, wasn’t there. Neither was Kane who had made the role part of his very nature. Any of us horror geeks who’d followed the events of that little drama know that story well enough so I won’t elaborate for the rest of the world who simply would never care. However, I will say, had Kane played the part in FvsJ…he would have been at this little party. He would have been under the mask and he would have considered it a freaking pleasure to cut the cake. Oh well. Such is life in Hollywood.

Peter was nervous and slightly overwhelmed at the turnout. But he shouldn’t have been. It’s probably the best “History of a Franchise” book out there. Head to the following link to snatch up a copy while they last, and from what I’ve heard they are selling out all over the place. The Complete History of Friday the 13th by Peter Bracke.

I was joking with Mark Swift, who co-penned Freddy vs. Jason, that I’d only shown up because I like Peter and wanted to be here in case no one else showed up. Mark, also a fan of Peter’s, said he was blown away by both the turnout and the book and that Peter’s book was the sort of History you might expect from Copella’s Godfather…not Friday the 13th.

I spent most of my time signing elbow to elbow with Noel. We go back. We fought in the Cunningham Production trenches together so that sort of bond sticks around through thick and thin. It’s funny thinking back on the adventures. The Cunninghams and the Farmers. High highs and low lows. Working in the maid’s room from day to day I guess we became an odd little dysfunctional family. As a result we know each other’s dirty little secrets. Don’t go feeling all high and mighty, we all got dirty little secrets. But whether it’s the fear of mutual destruction or the simple charm of mutual respect, neither speaks of the skellies hidden in the closets.

The event ended just shy of the cake cutting for us because Mel and I decided to have our first argument in many moons. She later phoned Noel to help her get rid of the body. If anyone has any information on my current whereabouts, please contact Todd@Wendago.com.
After we got our bickering out of the way we ate food because food is life.
So it was back home and back to work. Last week the Mayhem Project announced their entrance into the game of Hollywood movie making. And through Variety announced my writing the film version of Clock Tower III, based on the video game. Of course, Variety spelled Farmer with two R’s, which is completely understandable as there are so many spellings associated with the word “farmer”.
I’ve been in the middle of and will continue the pitching process surrounding the adaptation of the book, “Grave’s End”. Next week is Fortress and Sachi at Lions Gate.

Of course, every night is a battle for dominance and control of the bed. I feel outnumbered and envious of the sheer amount of hair surrounding me.
“Alien Pig Farm” continues to move forward. Chee’s first 12 pages of art are complete and the search for the next artist is underway. Niles is making his pass through the outline then I’ll begin the official script. We have a first look deal with Lions Gate for the film version but we’re going to release the comic before heading down the film development road.
I finished the outline for book one of “Sleepers” as well as the rough outlines of books two and three. I shot those over to FJ at Branded a couple of weeks back. Tokyopop found an artist and I dug her art. She should make a perfect fit.
And as always there are a dozen other little project screaming for attention but those are the one’s I’ve been thinking about today.

This weekend, Mel and I ventured out with Allen in search of the butterflies. They’ve flown down from Alaska to make sex in our local forests. It’s a dirty business but life always finds a way. It was cold and getting dark so we didn’t see many but they were there, in the tree limbs above us.

Obviously we stopped at Starbucks first because any viewing of butterflies requires caffeine.

Then it was off to Don’s house for the Pumpkin carving. We three spent most of our time in the kitchen where Allen poured the hot apple cider and I topped it off with the Chopin vodka for the more adventurous party goers.

Although this entry may not reek of it, I have been stuck with my nose mashed against this computer screen for several months solid and it was nice to have a couple nights out between all the work.

We left the party before the winner of the Pumpkin Carving was announced but this was my and Mel’s favorite.
Then it was back home where we ended up hooking up with Dean for some Warcraft.

Now, we hadn’t been playing the Warcraft very much, if at all, over the last few months. Professor Lorey vanished into his 17 hour days on Arrested Development and Mel and I had vanished into our assorted writing projects. But all work and no play makes Jack chop doors with axes. So we’ve been trying to find the time, if for nothing else, as a stress reliever.
The above and next three screenshots were taken before we took our last break. I’d “deathed” my way into an instance which had not yet gone live. Zul’Something. It went live while we were AFG (Away From Game).

So these are some pics for the beauty of the environment only. There were no evil trolls present at the time I took them.

The truth is, since our return we’ve been playing our younger characters who aren’t nearly “ubah” enough to visit this place. But there’s plenty to do elsewhere so we’re not losing sleep over it.

And next year the expansion comes out so there will be whole new worlds and environments to explore and I can’t for the life of me figure out how we’re gonna find the time to see it all.

What little time we have had has been spent playing our Hunters. That’s Woodrow and his faithful kitty, Scar.

That’s us fishing cuz Scar likes the tuna.

For Halloween the whole world has been decorated accordingly. You can also trick or treat at any innkeeper. In some cases you’ll get a prize, in other cases you get turned into something. In this instance I was turned into a gnome pirate.

But I have been turned into a bat from time to time.

Or an Undead Pirate while cute little Melanie was turned into a demon.

Here, I became the stupid gnome again while Mel became the more lusty looking female ninja. Figures.

We’ve basically been adventuring around with Mel and I being Hunters and Dean playing his Paladin. Of course, you can never tell that because we spend all our time turning each other into other Halloween beings. That’s Mel and I as leper gnomes. Dean should have been pictured as well but he ran out of frame as I took the screenshot.
We’d traveled here to get our carrots. In that real world that sounds silly so let me clarify. “Magic” carrots.
See? Makes more sense now. With these carrots on your person your mighty steed runs a bit faster…so they are worth having.

Not to be outdone, the Horde have also decorated. This is outside the UnderCity, the home of the undead.
Most of our guild is now fighting as members of the Horde, but we’re hanging out on the Alliance side since our lack of time would only frustrated our more loyal playing friends.
So, that’s the statusquo. It’s back-to-work time.
Love and kisses, mean it.

Welcome to October. It’s a good month for anyone working in the horror industry because it means old scary flicks will see a boost in rentals and purchases and tv time. It also promises much candy for anyone willing to yank a trick or treating pumpkin from the hands of a frightened ten-year-old.

Mel and I took part in “Corpse Bride” but quickly lost interest and ended up at Starbucks. It happens. Not often but it happens. Perhaps the movie is great and we just weren’t in the mood. Perhaps the movie was dull and we had better things to do.

Elliot, a local Librarian, Allen, a teacher slash literary agent, Mel and myself took the walking tour of the neighborhood and ended up at the ocean.
I’m told I’m a water person due to my affiliation with the guild of Scorpio but I’ve never given it much thought. However, now that I find water a nearly daily part of my life I’m digging it.

I am not, however, a bird poop person but it seems oceans and birds go hand in hand. For every heads there is a tails I suppose. As the High Council of Positive Mental Attitude I’m trying to be more negative…for purposes of balance.

I am a fan of good food, atmosphere and large quantities of booze. Not necessarily in that order.
Well, perhaps “large quantities” isn’t the term I’m looking for. I can recall many years ago spending several hours in the bathroom of a strip club hurling constantly into the nastiest toilet on the planet. I think I’d still be there had my buddies not taken me away.
So let’s go with the idea of High Qualities of booze.

I’m also a fan of fascinating women. Obviously one in particular.

She scored a “Passionate Lover” on this very scientific measuring system. I, of course, scored two phases higher with “Uncontrollable” which just goes to show you how accurate this clearly NASA designed equipment is.

So currently I’m spending my time split between two worlds. The World of Los Angeles and the World of Anywhere Else. I could, of course, buy an overly priced home in the greater Los Angeles area and settle down like everyone else but I’ve never been one to follow the most popular path. Besides, if everything goes as planned (and my evil schemes come to fruition) the city of the Angels will be at the bottom of the ocean by 2012.
But currently I drive back and forth.

Which, of course, allows me the pleasure of waking up and looking out my kitchen window to see the Los Angeles/Ventura County fires burning their way towards my High Def TV, Alienware computer and expensive art work. Perfect.

You basically got two choices, you can run or you can keep your fingers crossed and try to get your work done. I crossed fingers and tried to get work done. I knew I was in the wrong headspace. I knew I should have postponed…but I didn’t. And in the process gave one of the dullest pitches of my life…which they loved and will be partnering with me for even more pitches. Which just goes to show you, “It don’t freaking matter.”
After hearing our neighborhood on the evacuation list we started gathering our junk and filling the Explorer…only to later learn that there are two forms of evac.
Voluntary and Mandatory. We were still at Voluntary and fortunately for us the Fire Boys and Girls stopped the flames at Westlake Blvd and we were able to stay. Much luckier than the Loreys who ended up on the mandatory list which had them startled awake at 4 AM by loud speakers telling them to run.
We, however, stayed.

But why would ya want to? I like “Lord of the Rings” as much if not more than the next guy, but who wants Mordor in their back yard?
So, we reloaded the Explorer and pointed the grill North.

So let’s talk about Butterflies.

Now my understanding is that they are born on the Peninsula we call our second home and from there they fly North to Alaska. Now we’re two hours south of San Fransisco. I gotta think I run faster than your standard Butterfly (considering wind speed and solar flares, of course) but it would still be one heck of a trek.

But, to each his own. So these Butterflies, they fly their little butts all the way to Alaska where they hang out, do some ice hockey and make fun of the Canadian tourists.

At some point they get cold. We are talking Alaska after all. This is a place where spit freezes before it hits the ground and if you spit hard enough you can put out a fella’s eye. So, anyway, they get cold and they say to one another, “You cold? I’m freaking cold. Let’s go back now.”

So they start their long flight back to the small peninsula that I like to call my second home.

Many don’t make the trip due to 70 mph windshields and the great feathered descendants of dinosaurs hungry for a colorful snack.

But eventually they find their way back home, to the tiny peninsula I like to call my second home, and it is here that they throw down and get all dirty girl so they that the little baby butterflies will be born and the whole process can start all over again.

And in celebration of this great journey the wee humans living on the peninsula I like to call my second home throw a big parade.

Thus any day now the little Butterflies should be arriving. I’m told the numbers always vary. Some years will find only a few making the final trip other years produce thousands.
And, of course, killing a butterfly in these parts is a hangin’ offense.

After the parade the tourists stand around looking dull and wondering if that’s it while the locals fall in behind the parade and make their way up to the school where baked tatters and…

…nachos are to be had in abundance.

And if one desires you can buy and wear assorted butterfly wings or paint your head.
Oh. And on the work front. I got a new gig. I’ll be writing the feature film version of a survival horror video game but I should wait for the story to hit the trades before I go into any details.

I understand there’s this overwhelming feeling that all things plastic will destroy the planet but thanks to Pen and Teller, I no longer believe in recycling…well tin cans are still good. But come on, how can you not love Red plastic cups? Drink, Dump, Repeat. Nuff said.

It’s raining at the moment and the thunder woke me. I took this pic earlier as the dark clouds rolled in bringing with them lightning, thunder and wet deck furniture. It made me think of “Thunder” this fantastic script Dean Lorey and I wrote together which is now sitting on a shelf because those who make movies are presently scared to death of anything not based on a book, comic, video game, TV show or previously made film.
In all honesty, I’m not that worried. It’ll get made. It’s too good. The boneheads driving the boat through this silly business are currently navigating through the Islands of Previously Made Material but eventually they’ll circle back up through the Coast of Originality.
Currently you got one of two options as a writer. You can build a fire, drink coconut juice and wait it out or you can carve a canoe and paddle south toward the islands.
Me you ask? I’m writing comics, video games and have recently started contract negotiations to write a film based on a successful video game. Next week I start pitching a Ghost Story based on book inspired by a true story. I’m paddling.

Couple months back Mel and I visited the Redwoods. Big suckers. Mel and I have been spending alot of time together lately. Yeah, we were separated. After eleven years we’d decided to call it quits. Although we’ve succeeded at just about everything we’ve tried over the years, we failed miserably at separating. We really did try. Thought we’d both be happier. But we were both miserable. Took us a while to figure that out though. I chalk it up to ego and boneheadedness but I’m sure the list is long and complex. In the end, staying apart simply wasn’t fair to each other and certainly not to those we tried to date. Not to mention I was slowly going insane.
But live and learn. We came out on the other side stronger than we could ever imagine. We learned about each other and learned a thing or two about true friendship. It’s easy to have friends through the good times…but those who stick with you through the darkest times? Well, words just don’t describe.
Dean, you’re a better friend than either of us deserve.

The simple fact is, I love my wife and nothing’s ever going to change that.

Bugsy has now taken possession of the Bean Bag. I’d like to say I will one day get it back but the outlook ain’t so good.

He’s also started writing. Well, says he wants to write. If I had a dime for every time I’ve caught him passed out at the computer…

I mentioned comic books before. Not only are films based on comics a hot item in the city of the Angels…well comics are just plain fun. My dad gave me a box of coins he’d collected as a kid and although I still have them and will pass them on to my lil’ Farmer one day I started collecting comics. No offense, pop, but comics are a bit more fun. And I’ll also have a few comics to pass down in which my little brain helped create. So, I’m still working with the very cool, Steve Niles.

And our partner in crime, Actor Tom Jane…whose wife just won the Emmy for Outstanding Lead Actress in A Drama Series. We watched the premiere of Medium last night (gotta love TiVo). It’s a great show.
And speaking of Emmy winners, a buddy of ours, Jim Vallely and the show’s showrunner Mitch Hurwitz won the Emmy for Outstanding Writing for a Comedy Series.
I won one of those giant stuffed animals at Six Flags once. For throwing a Styrofoam soft ball into a milk jug. It was a highlight.
Our buddy Dean Lorey is also working on Arrested Development this year so we rewatched season one on DVD and would have watched Season Two in preparation for last night’s premiere had Fox released it. Sigh, the boneheadedness of Hollywood. We’re lucky, we got TiVo. We’ll let this season’s shows collect on the TiVo and on October 10th we’ll grab Season Two and tear through it before starting on this season. I know, it seems silly but it’s an obsessive compulsive thing. But it really is an amazing comedy. I rarely laugh so hard I cry but I have several times while watching Arrested.
Been watching a bunch of new series as they’re popping up. I liked Barely Legal. Threshold won me over on the first night. And Reunion was surprisingly good. Bones was okay but still needs to find itself. I’m sticking with Rome cuz I like blood and nudity. And As for Surface?

I’d rather take a nap. I was disappointed. It seems a bunch of new shows are jumping on the Lost bandwagon. That whole mystery series thing where the answers won’t come anytime soon if ever.

Still spending time between LA and PG. I gotta stay close to LA. I have meetings. I have friends here. But PG is cold and the ocean is clean and it’s quiet and the people are…normal. Nothing against LA…it is what it is. And I ain’t saying I’m normal…far from it but at least I feel normal when I’m there. Not to mention I get three times as much writing done there as good ol’ Mother Angeles.

Not sure what it is about the ocean. I’ve never considered myself an ocean kind of guy but I was clearly wrong. Oh, I got no real desire to get in the ocean…well, I got no desire to pop into a bathing suit and swim in it but I am looking into diving. I’ve never gone diving. And I grow’d up on Van Halen’s Diver Down. It just seems like the right thing to do.
I’m also starting the path that is Brazilian jujitsu. I’m told that of all the Martial Art techniques out there jujitsu is the best for beating up old people and children.

Another great thing about PG is the food and drink. Simply amazing. The freshest fish on the planet. Now granted, all you gotta do is stand near me and I can tell you your temperature due to the plethora of Mercury coursing through my veins but good food is good food.
I really am looking forward to the coming Christmas which will be spent in the PG. Hollywood will shut down for the most part just after Thanksgiving and I plan on rewriting a couple of specs which I can easily do there without the standard big city distractions…distracting me. I’ve also started a brand new spec and I’m currently mapping out another. Yeah, I realize we’re still in the Islands of Previously Made Material but I smell a change coming.

Of course, PG is haunted. As a matter of fact, the script I’m in negotiations on currently takes place in the area. We took this pic while walking back from Monterey one night. Them there glowy things is eyes. And that’s the doorway to a church. We’ve since joked that the glowy eyes belonged to Satan…but that was just a joke. I know the eyes don’t belong to Satan. I’m thinking a lesser demon of some sort.

Seriously. You blame me?

Contrary to overwhelming belief. I am not Superman.