Wednesday, December 1, 2010

I am the maniac

Another four seconds since my last post...
That's what it feels like.

Enter the Void changed my life. Allowed me to see what I hadn't before.
So now I'm in the lab working on something new and experimental.
Something that's going to change the game...

If it works.

Drone is nearly done. Truly a fun write. 1st draft going out next week to the respective people.

Freed Men is making progress slowly. Just gotta make fans out of the masses.

And I'm attempting to get the pH level of my body to a more alkaline state. More veges, more fruit, no soda, no fast food.
We'll see how that goes : p


Sunday, September 5, 2010

Little realizations.


A painting entitled 'Extasy'

Wow. Just staged a power writing session. 10 hours straight. 16 pages done of my new script and i'm pleased with them.

Something I realized that good movies are mostly about:

A constant stream of realizations and understandings from the characters.

Bit by bit, characters have realizations and slowly change for the better (or worse). That's it. Pretty simple.

Listening to Royksopp: Silver cruiser

Friday, August 27, 2010

/Revival/

Been off this thing for a while. Life got pretty hectic (relatively speaking).
So Freed Men is done and some cool people have read it and really liked it. Waiting for one more to read it before my next move.

I've started heavily outlining and researching my next feature project. It's a thriller and it's awesome. High concept. Gonna be tough but gonna be fun and hopefully make me some $$$$$$. Really? Does that really even happen in real life? We'll see.

Listening to: The Inception Soundtrack.
Hanssssssssss

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

What I remember

I remember a hospital.
I remember the fires in san francisco at my aunt's wedding.
I remember holding the snake on my birthday.
I remember the box of cheerios that sat on my neighbors window sill when I was seven.
I remember the avacados falling from our tree in the backyard.
I remember playing pitfall with zach on his computer in the garage.
I remember learning to blow a buble with gum at his house. And all his cats.
I remember swining on the branches outside the house on crest drive.
I remember the basketball hoop in my garage coming loose and falling on my friend.
I remember riding in the ambulance to the hospital with my mom.
I remember subway rides home from work in philadelphia late at night.
I remember my first kiss under the moonlight and how nervous I was.
I remember getting my sega saturn and playing Nights on it. And Radiant Silvergun. And Burning Rangers.
I remember trips to the pool at the jewish center off of san vicente.
I remember the day I got in an accident. And sitting on a trampoline that night, staring out at the ocean.
I remember creepy crawlers in the oven. And picking fruit of my tree in mar vista.
I remember pissing on the handball court at westwood and my dad getting mad at me for it.
I remember walking the goats my teacher had outside our classroom across the blacktop.
I remember playing that game with the pool sticks and the pieces that went around the board after school.
I remember learning about the jungle and being fascinated in 2nd grade.
I remember my teacher writing on my report card- has a hard time separating reality from fantasy. And being so greatful for that now.
I remember sledding down hills in the park in mission viejo. And skateboarding with tesoro every freakin day.
I remember listening to rap songs in his mom's car. And playing San Francisco rush on his N64.
I remember playing game gear with michael at my house the first time he came over. Mortal Kombat.
I remember MK gold at Justin's house. And hurting my back on his parent's exercise ball.
I remember waking up early everyday for zero period. Trecking through the greenbelt to get to marching band practice and always being late. And getting punched by the trumpet kid in the face.
And punched by Michael at Del Taco then going back and sitting down at our table like nothing happened.
I remember rubbing tree cones on the ground real fast and my dad telling me that the warmth was called friction.
I remember shooting off rockets with those little engines inside that exploded.
I remember boy scout meetings at that kids house with the huge backyard off of wilshire.
I remember running around temple isiah and having a blast. I remember learning songs in the basement.
I remember being the plant in little shop of horrors and how hot it got under that costume. I remember seeing that hot girl also in the musical undressing on the other side of the curtain.
I remember playing Magic the Gathering a million times. I remember hating poker.
I remember the garden at castle heights. I remember attatching bottle caps with strings to plastic bags and watching them fly up then come back down. I remember making little boats out of leafs and pushing them into the running water on the asphault.
I remember trading x men cards. and playing that skateboarding game on nintendo after school.
I remember eating pizza at the place on robertson then playing centipede on the arcade games.
I remember palace park before it was boomers.
I remember thinking there was a shark in the pool at La Meridian in newport beach.
I remember smoking up on that hill in turtle rock. I remember the first time smoking in the back of a car by blue lake south.
I remember filming recollection.
I remember the cold nights in philly on the way to parties. And trying to psyche myself and evan into thinking it was actually warm.
I remember kids jacking the guy jogging next to me at the track.
I remember wearing bugle boy all the time and drawing a picture of the dinosaur on one of the shirts one night.
I remember parachute men. I remember playing the first prince of persia on my little mac back in like 96'. And Spectre Challenge.
I remember playing catch with my mom.
And sucking at baseball. And my coach saying the best thing about me being on the team was 'that one time i hit a triple.'
I remember walking home after 6th grade class. And playing when you wish upon a star at the graduation ceremony.
I remember telling little kids in the jacuzzi how intense 9th grade was.
And battle rapping against danny there.
I remember epic look out points at night.
And all the lights going out in the neighborhood and byron saying it's an EMP grenade.
I remember seeing fifth element in the theatre. And toy story. And lion king. And species.
I remember hail coming down in LA on the day i bought the toy car.
I remember Walter's old volvo and old house and talking to him about ww2.
I remember asking Doug about motorcycles.
I remember lying the first time and my mom finding out after camp.
I remember sleeping under the stars at Jameson Ranch. And the huge boulder we climbed.
I remember getting scared by my friends in the middle of the night on my birthday.
I remember wandering around irvine on foot before i had a license.
I remember driving all the way to Brea with Charley just to buy Hollister clothes.
I remember losing my virginity after that house party in philly.
I remember being Freud at the state championships.
I remember the haunted house in santa monica freaking the shit out of me.
I remember not knowing a thing about screenwriting.
I remember practicing piano. And my ten million different teachers. Like Svetlana.
I remember learning how to type on a keyboard in 1st grade.
I remember using 5 floppy disks to install a game.
I remember shooting the girl with my airsoft gun on 4th of july.
I remember the huge nerf gun fights. And dressing up like a homeless man at the elementary school.
I vaguely remember the walk in closet being my bedroom.
I remember that weird cop/skeleton toy I had.
I remember going to ambrosia and that other comic store.
I remember going to the mission.
I remember my bar mitzvah party above the WVA.
I remember going down the hill on my 3 wheeler. And in Pan Pacific park.
I remember learning figure eights in the parking garage on my bike. And hitting my chin.
I remember dressing up as cookie monster.
I remember walking under the street in westwood.
And exploring the depths of the hole by the river. That was brave.
I remember having a crush on jenni and getting mad when she didn't get me a birthday present.
I remember getting caught in bed with emily when I was nine.
I remember that other emily...she was kinda weird.
I remember getting woken up at the crack of dawn at jew camp.
And crying when I recited my speech at the end of talit.
I remember the pre school and how huge the jungle gym looked. and nap time. and this kids gay fathers.
I remember seeing Requiem for a Dream for the first time and it haunting me.

These are some of the things I remember for now.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

4th draft is DONE.
Brain is MUSH.

Friday, April 23, 2010

Am I crazy or just screwed

From an interview on the popular blog scriptshadow:

SS: What is the biggest mistake you see writers make?

Beware of the faux masterpiece. What is that? That’s when you try to tackle something huge like a critical piece of history – the Holocaust, slavery, World War II – or try to set an expensive politically-charged love story against that sort of backdrop. You might be a deep thinker and have an unparalleled understanding of the subject, but as a beginning writer, your craft is not going to be able to do the story justice.

You don’t write The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Schindler’s List, Sophie’s Choice or even Atonement as your third or fourth script. When a writer aims for that sort of script – one that only works if it’s a masterpiece – then whether they achieve 50% or 75% of their goal, it’s sort of irrelevant. They haven’t crossed the tipping point where the script has any viability.

SS: Great point about the faux masterpiece. I see a lot of those. But does that mean writers shouldn’t try? Aren’t you the guy who is supposed to be championing people? Ore you are contradicting yourself…you said writers should write whatever they want when starting out.

JM: Fair enough. If you are writing your attempted masterpiece to learn about screenwriting, go for it. And get it over with ASAP. The skill you need to pull off the masterpieces come from finishing several non-masterpieces.


And I'm writing a script about slavery...

Alas, I may not sell it, but I WILL get something out of it.

Friday, April 2, 2010

GAL #2

Jacob keeps walking, as if with a destination in mind, his emotions coming to the surface without shame.

From the script WATER FOR ELEPHANTS, going into production soon.

Monday, March 29, 2010

Get your Freak on

Haven't posted in a while. Been pretty insanely busy. Here's the updates:

Got my first official 'film industry job' at Anonymous Content as a office PA/floater. This is a management/production company and a great place to get my foot in the door. I told one of the managers I wanted to be a screenwriter. He told me I was in the right place.

Stoked on that.

Another great thing that happened full of possibility: the comedy pitch I sent to someone I knew in the industry was liked by her boss above many others they were receiving. Seems the story idea I started working on in my UCLA class paid off. The script is called 'How to Hide a Boner' and while I won't share the premise on this blog, it is a story I am very passionate about, so I believe I will enjoy working on it enough to push through it. That is of course, if I'm hired and possibly PAID to do it. Even if they don't go through with it, I still may write it since I just spent a hardcore week completing a thorough outline on it after 12 hour days at
Anonymous Content.

Say YAY for me. And Yay for small steps in the right direction. I keep telling myself, if I get paid to write a script before I'm 25 then I will be satisfied.

Freed Men is in great shape on the new draft I've been working on, hopefully that'll be done within a month.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

A great quote

"Every time I write, I find myself going through a form of self-examination that is almost a kind of therapy. By creating and examining my characters I find myself questioning my own motivations, my own character. By creating problems for these characters, I look at my problems--and sometimes find solutions. If I get angry at something, the way teachers are treated in this country, the low opinion of women in combat (despite a few thousand years of history stating otherwise), I write about it and get Mr. Holland's Opus or Courage Under Fire. Trying to come to terms with my own combat experience, I delved into those subjects in Courage..., 84 Charlie Mopic and War Story: Vietnam.

Every story and every character has a part of me, good guy or bad, and I share their emotions, good or bad. I vent rage, weep, laugh, and all without exposing anyone else to my angst and dramatics. I take my worst psychological problems and work them out on paper. I think writers, like other artists, go into dark corners where most people have hidden the dangerous parts of their lives. Writers go into these closets in their minds, pull out something most people don't want to discuss or admit, and say, 'Look at this. This is how I feel, how I think.' And the wonder of it all is that no matter how despicable, dreadful, or embarrassing that thought or deed may be, it is often universal. The audience recognizes it and experiences that same emotion vicariously, safely."

-- Patrick S. Duncan (Courage Under Fire, Mr. Holland's Opus)

Thursday, February 18, 2010

I like to write my problems and tell them to other people

Daily quote:

"IT'S JUST A COUCH!"

-Lester Bernham
American Beauty

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Great Action Lines : GAL

I'm starting a new recurring post. It's going to be clever ways of wording things in screenplay action lines. This one comes from Joe Carnahan's 'The Grey', apparently being developed.


Flannery’s eyes seize Ottway’s, he reaches for him.

Love it.

Plot Character Theme

I know what good writing is. I can see it directly. I can see metaphors around me in life. I read life like a screenplay now.
It's like in the matrix, where Neo can see the numbers floating down, the code that makes up life. I look around me, I talk to people close to me, strangers and I see it. The language of story everywhere, within everything.

The three things that make up the screenplay: plot, character and theme. They relate to each other. They relate to life. The plot is the things that happen in your life, the events, the locations, the props. The characters are everyone around you, everyone you know, everyone you don't. The theme is...

The theme is you. What you are. What you deal with. What your destiny is. What the destiny of this world is. Emotions.

I will never right something not character-driven. I want to explore the depths of the soul. I want to explore my problems and show them to the world without them noticing.

And I know I can do it. I have faith in that.

Freed Men is just the beginning.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Polish is done. Submitted to a my connections and the guys. Just waiting now.
In other news, my friend Mandi who I guess now works for a production company told me she was looking for a rom com pitch. I told her about my new story idea about a smooth college guy who gets all the girls who one day finds he can't get it up anymore and must go an adventure to discover what's 'wrong' with him. We'll see how that goes and if her boss likes the pitch.

Friday, January 29, 2010

blip blop bleep [focus] blip blop bleep

Took aderol today and got a lot done on the polish. Oh yea, i'm almost done polishing the script. Then give it to Brendon and Dave again for review. Hopefully not too many more things to fix.

I CAN SEE THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

The missing piece

“A character's inner conflict is not just being in two minds about something, not just being torn between obvious incompatibles (“I want to be a priest, and yet I love her”) but is about being in a new situation where old attitudes and habits war with and hinder the need for change." (Mysteryman on film)

So this is what I've been struggling with over the last 2 years on freed men. This was what I had to try and crack with my character. And I finally realized that it relates back to the theme of control and power. Slavery ran on control and power. Twitchell wanted to help the slaves but still held onto his want to control them and be the one in power. Then he realizes he must give up this power to the slaves if he wants to succeed. This is represented by him voting for a black person to be the one in control in the culmination of the story.

That shit was hard to figure out, trust me. But I think I've finally got it. And that's what will make it sell.

"One part of ourselves may want to give those around us (children, spouses, friends) total freedom to pursue their happiness in their own ways, while another part fears losing control."

BAM

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Women

Ahah! My first post via blackberry. Love 2010 technology. Assistant position interview next week. Let's hope I nail it. I'm beyond sick of working retail. Today pushed me to the brink in terms of my threshhold for how much I can take of my fake fucking manager. I'm so sick of women like this. Who do they think they are?? Case in point: I'm driving to work and this stuck up bitch in heels walks across the street in the middle of traffic NOT at a crosswalk. I rolled down my window and gave her an earful. Sorry bbut I just get sick of women who think theyr the shit while doing nothing useful for the world and think they can treat people however they want just cause they think they're hot.