Day Fifteen: Nothing Much ("Hmmm")

I realized I mispelled Day in my last post. Hmm. Some writer I am.
I am pretty proud of the scenes I wrote though. The first one was kinda bullshit but it was a good warmup. But my second and third I loved. I played with language, vocabulary, the whole shebang. And I was even complimented by some of my compatriots. It was nice.

Fay Fourteen: A New Beginning... Literally ("Holy Shit, We Got Somewhere")

It was a heated day today. There were arguments and everything. And in the end I actually feel like we got somewhere. Have to write some scenes tomorrow. Gonna have to take off work since I'll have Eastern State at night.

Day Thirteen: I've Begun To Drift ("La De Da...")

I find myself drifting more and more at the writer's table. I honestly have no more to say that I haven't already. It's just... circles... she's spinning me round in circles... that silly blonde girl... something about the ages...

Day Twelve: The Order Of The Pheonix ("I Love That We're Calling It That")

Remember I said I was sending out an email to see if people wanted to work in specific groups? No one answered that question. Instead my email seemed to spur people onto another topic. It seemed to drive people to really want to dog into this project and begin writing scenes and scripts for the show. It has even been likened to an underground movement. One person began referring to it as The Order Of The Pheonix. We'll see just how much magic we can create together.

Day Eleven: I'm Beginning To Lose Myself ("So Confuzzled")

The discussions about characters and plots are legitimately starting to confuse me. There are just too many ideas and issues that we keep piling up. So... much... confusion. So I have decided to bite the bullet and send out another group email. This one is really just about working together in groups. It'll be interesting to see how it goes.

Day Ten: Yet More Hashing ("My Head A'Splode")

I don't want to hash out any more details about the characters, especially Joe or Eric. We are spending every single moment in class throwing out ideas and I feel we're not actually getting anywhere. More and more ideas keep piling up but we aren't climbing the ideas to anywhere new. We just keep sitting there, letting the ideas bury us alive. There are so many things I'd like to do. I'd like to find some sort of direction as to where this plot is going, where is our main character, fuck, I don't even feel like I really know who the character is. And no one can decide on anything. People either want to make him too boring or so damn drug ridden he can't move. Or they want to make him Gregory House. I just want something. Are we focusing on Joe or the community? What event propels our plot? What the fuck is our plot? In the end, it's just so... Yeah, there's a reason I go...
On another note, I am now officially nervous about the groups we will split into. Norm has said they're gona be random picks but I feel, and I know others have as well, that we have already begun to form groups and "alliances" in this cohort. Not that we're competing, but we know some better than others and I've always felt it's best to get along with the people you write with. Sure, every now and then we all have to deal with someone we don't want to, but I don't think real head writers choose people they can't get along with. I know that Russel T. Davies and Joss Whedon both had assistant head writers that they were, and still are, great friends with. I want to be comfortable with who I write with and not spend the entire fucking time arguing. If I could choose... I would list my top picks but that could possibly be mean. Frankly, you probably know who you are.
I considered sending out another group email (cause it went so well last time) and asking people if they would rather go with the luck of the draw or if they'd rather choose who they work with. Maybe I'll put it to a vote. It might come off better that way. I just want to take some initiative. It's who I am.
On a lighter note, I got free food. They had catering for Mr. Popper's Penguins, which I am clearly not working on, and they just had this gran buffet of fruits, salads, meats, and delicious entrees. Being me, I hoisted up my cahones and acted like I belonged and I cam away with some damn fine food. I was even commended on being a "gangsta", or possibly gangster, by Addie. Tru dat!

Day Nine: The Redundancy Of Repetition ("Really?")

The email idea went bad. Even though people in class told me it was a good idea and one person actually tried beginning to post, one person started talking about how they didn't think it was fair and how they thought we were leaving out Norman and I think it scared everyone off. It stunk cause I really think we might have been able to begin getting somewhere.
We have gotten to a very... frustrating portion of the writing process. We're supposed to be making decisions on the show and characters and plot but it seems like all we're really doing is throwing out ideas but not pursuing any of them. It's.... I dunno.
I've also noticed that Norman has this amazing ability to shoot down ideas he doesn't like without seeming it. He's good.

Day Eight: So Many Ideas ("I'm Scared")

I have begun taking on a whole fucking lot. And I love it.
I am trying to meet Seamus' challenge and finish a short sci fi story that I actually love. I have begun working with my colleague Josh Novo on a short horror script. (We're both horror nuts.) I have also begun taking steps to creating an online comic. Strangely enough, people are actually excited about it. Also, totally still trying to master my own TV scripts. I think I'm getting closer. To being a good writer. Seriously.
I've also been working with Angel and Amber on our presentation which is on Feminism and Comedy. It's nuts. There is quite some heat between Amber and Angel. I think they were actually fighting when we did a trial run today. Except fighting is putting it nicely. Amber had so much fire and was so in charge, she is really admirable. Angel was very quiet and meek. I don't know if it was because he didn't believe what he was saying and had trouble arguing for it or because he did believe in what he was saying and was just afraid of Amber. I'd be too.
They read my scene today. I'm not quite sure how it actually went over. In my scene I killed off a main character and found some things I didn't follow up on. That I regretted writing. Or not writing. I just... I don't know how it went. I'm afraid I upset Norman by killing off one of his characters. Not because I didn't like the character but because I knew his death would be a great emotional catalyst. And some people seemed to like the death scene. I do agree that I didn't take my characters grief far enough. I tried taking a different route with grief and I think it was scene as stupid. I am really afraid that Norman doesn't respect my writing. I don't think anyone respects my writing. I am so afraid that I am fulfilling my usual role, the goofy fucking ginger. I want so bad to be taken seriously. I don't mind arguing or people not liking my ideas but I don't want to be the joke. People are already making fun of me for being a character murderer and thinking too big. I just figure if I go big it's easier to reign me in then try and get me to go bigger when I didn't go far enough, like in my scene.
I don't really know what to do.
We hashed some more things out, got closer to the heart of the show, but then we had to go. I took another large risk and tried something. I sent out an email where people could share more ideas about the show. I think it might help us figure stuff out and I love talking about this shit. I do.
I am taking a lot of risks here. I hope it pays off.

Day Seven: So Much Hashing ("A Fine Piece")

What a great way to start the day. As I was coming in on the bus I got an email from Bernie. He commended on the writing of my piece. It just made me feel good. Let me know that my writing is worthy of this program and that maybe I do belong. It... made me smile.
We read more scenes today. I love seeing what people see.
We also continued the hashing out process. It is insane. I have so many ideas. I'm afraid, though. I am so legitimately afraid that people won't take me serious. I think I have good ideas but what if they're stupid. What if no one respects me or my ideas? I just... I'm so fucking nervous. And I don't want to be the joke, this time. I just don't.
I met more awesome people on the bus today, too. A theatre manager (hard life) and a fashion manager (I know). We actually spent the entire bus trip chatting about the world. Society. Technology. I meet the coolest people on the bus. I'm starting to get ideas.

Day Six: Hashing It Out ("Good Night, And Good Luck")

The weekend was absolutely crazy. My sisters came over. My first weekend at Eastern State. Crazy. I didn't think I was gonna be able to finish my paper on Edward R. Murrow. But I did. A good paper too. I know that it didn't have to be the best writing but I plan on doing my absolute best writing in every aspect of this program. This is my dream. I would be stupid not to work my hardest.
It was kind of ironic, my paper, because we ended up watching Good Night, And Good Luck at the studio. So good. I love that movie and learning about Edward R. Murrow was such an amazing man. An amazing speaker more than anything.
We also continued reading our scenes in class. Mine still hasn't gone. I'm kinda scared for it to go. I don't entirely know why.
We also began finally hashing out the show today. Talking about characters and openers and bouncing ideas off of Norman and stuff. It is so hard for me to be silent and still. I am just so unbelievably passionate and ready to write and create. And every idea I have only shifts and evolves when I hear others' ideas. I love it! But I should try to calm down before I have an anneurism. I just want so much to share my ideas. I'll just keep doing my best.

Day Five: The New York Television Festival ("Free Beer")

Two great things came together this day: free entertaining tv and free beer. Not just free beer, Stella Artois.
It began on Monday (Day Four) when I heard a colleague of mine in the program had a pilot entered into the New York Television Festival (NYTVF), a festival that showcases independent talent and puts amateurs in touch with the people behind TV. After hearing this, that a colleague needed my support, and that I didn't have Terror Behind The Walls on Wednesday, I decided to go. But I didn't want to go alone so I asked Dom DeAngelo to come and he said yes.
We left for NYC around 5:30 AM and MegaBus was late again so I literally ran from him as soon as we got off the bus. I have no idea what he did while I was at the studios. That is a story for another day.*
*Actually he just walked around Time Square and went to Midtown Comics.
At the studios we read more scripts though unfortunately mine was not read. I would have liked to get some feedback. We also met the producer of Young FRankenstein who both inspired me to try harder to get into this business but who also made me feel a bit sad. If I really want to do this, which I do, it's going to be damn hard... and it worries me. Sometimes I wonder if I even really have the talent to be in this world. Then I remember that I don't care. I love it and will stop at nothing. Damn.
Afterwards I met up with Dom and we went to a little Italian cafe. I didn't expect to get much but the food they had was so fucking fancy. I asked for pasta and got a five star rated meal from Heaven. It was beyond delicious and, even better, Dom paid. Granted, he owed me, but it was still nice.
Then we contemplated what to do and eventually wound up just going to where the NYTVF was being held and waited. While waiting we realized that Dom purchased the wrong metro pass, got some fruit, and died of exhaustion. Not literally.
Around 5 PM the doors opened and we went in to watch some pilots. There was an It's Always Sunny rip off that was okay. There was a cooking show parody with Werner Herzog that made me laugh my ass off. And there was a bad Guy Ritchie rip off. Then some people began showing up for Jorge's, my colleagues, pilot. I met up with Brian and Travis and we chatted. Then we watched more pilots. An uninspired college comedy. A great British comedy. And Jorge's which was pretty fucking amazing. Then there was free beer! And I had some of the first beers with friends from the program and we chatted and I got pretty damn close to drunk.
Then it came time for me and Dom to catch the bus and fear set in. Not really though cause I was pretty tipsy. But we had gone through the wrong turnstyle and when we needed to go through the right one my metro pass wasn't working. After some nervous moments Dom finally swiped his card, with his last ride, and we literally squished together so we could go through the rotating gate together. I imagine there is a hilarious security tape somewhere.
Then we met osme cool people on the bus and I drunkenly passed out. The end.

Day Four: We Read Scripts ("Spanish Or Cuban Or Something")

Once again, my ability to not know things and inability to understand political correctness has gotten me in trouble. It was actually pretty messed up. The whole day was really.
First, I was so fucking late because the Goddamn bus was so fucking late. I mean, I strolled in forty minutes late and I felt like shit. Luckily I didn't miss the first script reading but it was still pretty bad and I kinda think people judged me for it. Why shouldn't they. I was fucking late. Still as one colleague said at lunch, "It seems fashionable to be late."
The other no-no I did was while we were reading each other's scripts. We didn't read mine yet but we really dove into all the others. They're scripts about community meetings in Red Hook. One script had the main characters son translating into Spanish for the community. I absolutely loved that, thought it was a great idea, and it reminded me of Dexter when there are entire exchanges of dialogue in Spanish. It highlights the strong latin influence in the community presented in the show. And since a large portion of Red Hook is latin, it seems a great idea to incorporate that aspect. I tried to express my idea, reiterating the example from Dexter, and I quoted very stupidly, "They have whole bits of dialogue in Spanish or Cuban or Stuff". I honestly did not know that I was supposed to call every dialect of Spanish Spanish. I was nonce told by my high school Spanish teacher that that was disrespectful because it assumed that all Spanish speakers were from Spain. I didn't realize it was worse to refer to it as Cuban or Mexican or stuff like that. So it's pretty clear that everyone thinks I'm a racist or ignorant bastard. It won't help that we have to do a group presentation as a debate on a topic and I am going to be on the opposite side of feminism. So now people will think I hate women too. Why does this shit happen to me? Why can't I say that I hate The Vagine Monologues without people thinking I/m a misogynist pig? How am I supposed to know these things about Spanish speakers and other cultures that I've never really interacted with if no one tells me. Fuck, I grew up in suburban Philly. I'm as white and Irish as they come. You don't see me get mad when people call the Irish drunks.
For the remainder of the day we talked about sitcom and watched some classic tv comedy. Jack Benny on You Bet Your Life with Groucho Marx. The "I Love Lucy" with the candy factory. And some hilarious skits with Carl Reiner and Sid Ceasar on Your Show Of Shows. Great stuff.
My trip back was also pretty interesting. I always seem to meet interesting people on Megabus. Last week I met someone who is a part of Second City Chicago, fucking awesome, and she was telling me about her one woman show. She was nice and shared trail mix with me. The guy I met on this day was a medical student becoming a pathologist. He was real nice and we chatted a lot. He asked me about writing and I asked him about pathology. And he was such a great guy. He asked if I would read and revise his Statement Of Intent, which he needs to get into a hospital residency, so I did. He was amazing. Full ride to Michigan State. Wanting so bad to use his skills to help others. He was so nice he made me feel like a child murderer. I ended up giving him a ride home so he wouldn't walk.
That's sorta it for the day. We're supposed to read everyone else's scripts on Wednesday. I'm a bit nervous what people will think. What if I just plain suck at writing. But I'm also anxious to get comments and see if I'm good. I dunno. We'll see. As long as I don't come off as racist anymore.

Day Three: I Lose My Freakin' Mind ("Avengers Assemble")

I usually give a recap of my day. Here it is. I went to NYC. I worked. It was great. We got our first writing assignment. I am both excited and nervous.
But the really excited thing... IS THAT THE AVENGERS WILL BE FILMING AT THE STUDIO THIS SPRING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Robert Downey Jr., Scarlet Johansen (I probably spelled that wrong.), Mark Ruffalo, Samuel L Jackson, and most important of all...
JOSS FUCKING WHEDON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I know that's not his middle name but I have absolutely no idea what I'll do if I ever bump into him. They tell us to leave all the famous people alone but I may cry if he even says Hi to me. I mean, Holy, Shit!

Day Two: First Day At The Studio ("Feet Don't Fail Me Now")

They failed. Try as I may, try as I might, I was unable to make it to my first day at Steiner Studios on time. Luckily, the studio was late.
I'll explain.
First I woke up in PHilly at 5:30AM to make the 6:30 AM bus to NY. That bus was a half hour late. I still could have made it, though. So when I got to NY I hustled and bustled my way to the subway and caught the train and anxiously waited for my stop. When I made it there I had two option: 1--Run. 2--Catch the local bus. I, actually having faith in public tranbsport, decided twould be faster to take the bus. And then the bus broke. It just stopped in the street, surrounded by cars on all sides, and the damn driver wouldn't open the doors. Ten minutes ticked by, each minute one that I could have been running, and finally he opened the doors and I ran like Martin Lawrence from the police. Needless to say, I did not make it on time and arrived at the gates to a major movie studio sweaty and out of breath. I should be glad they didn't detain me and still allowed me entrance.
As late as I was, though, I was lucky because the studio was later. See, we all had to arrive early to get out ID badges for the studio. Frankly, I said, "Badges. We don't need no stinking badges." but nobody listens to me. The point is this process took forever and actually cut into almost two hours of our time. It didn't help that the damn badge machine broke before I could even get my picture. It was a mess but I guess I'm lucky I technically wasn't late.
Then life began in the studio. We chatted with Norman and met one man we'll be learning a lot from, Bernie Orenstien, who actually played Clarabell on Howdy Doody a couple times. Fucking A!
And being at the studio is so cool. The stages are filled with whole worlds. Houses and cities being built for production. One humongous set looks like it might be for Men In Black III. Yes, it's sad, another sequel to an even worse sequel, but it's really exciting to see them work. There is also one whole stage that is specially cooled and full of penguins for the new Jim Carrey movie Mr. Popper's Penguins. It would be cool to see Jim Carrey but it might make me happier to see some penguins. Unless they're hoighty toighty drama queen penguins. Those are the worst.
The other cool thing that's been around is I believe they're finishing filming on Scorsese's Boardwalk Empire show. Haven't seen any stars but just seeing the stuff they use is amazing. There is this beautiful black era car with whitewall tires and, oh,... It's indescribable. Life in the studio is just so... everything I ever wanted. And now I have my own badge.
(---Indescribable yell of joy.---)
That kinda takes care of it all. I got home okay and go again Wednesday. Wish me luck on a speedy arrival.

Day One: Orientation In Red Hook ("I Can't Believe I'm Keeping A Blog")

I can't believe I'm actually keeping a blog. I mean, for those of you who follow my other blog The Vail, which is actually an online series I write, it's not strange to see me posting. But usually I'm posting the latest installment of my gritty sci-fi noir series. This time I am actually keeping a sort of diary. Or journal. Well... blog. I'm blogging. Uggh. It even sounds dirty. But you gotta do what you gotta do.
I'm actually doing this because I recently started the TV Writing program in NYC. I repeat, a program to gear me towards writing for television. A.k.a. a freakin' dream come true. Anyway, it's required that I keep a blog of every day in the program. Thus, you have, my new blog. Diary. Whatever.
The first day of the program was very interesting. Actually, I'm not quite sure if it counts as Day One because it was sort of like a pre-program meeting. It might technically be Day Zero. Cool. Day Zero.
On Day Zero I traveled up to New York on the MegaBus, something new because I usually take NJTransit, but if I took ther train every time I had to go up to NY, the fees would kill me. So, as anxious as I am, I'm trying this MegaBus thing. It's okay. I mean, it has free wifi so that rocks. But I'm always nervous it's gonna break or not get me there on time. Especially since I have to get to Steiner Studios at the Brooklyn Navy Yard before 10:30 AM every day. That requires the bus to NY, a subway ride, and a brisk run. So, I'm nervous. But it's definitely cheaper and that's, unfortunately, where it's gonna count the most.
So I went up to NY and went to Brooklyn and met with all my cool maktes who are going to be in the rpogram. I immediately felt like a moron, not just because I must have said, "Hi. I'm Joe." a million times to everyone, but also because I was wearing a frickin' suit and tie while everyone else looked normal. Still, I'd rather stand out in good clothes then stand out as the behemoth red haired freak. Initially at least.
It's also intimidating because some of these people have really impressive resumes. One woman as written for Sesame Street. One girl produces documentaries and recently met Grant Morrison in Scotland. One guy has had like eight internships at major TV companies. And one woman is an honest to God novelist. A novelist! I come from nowhere, don't have any kind of comm degree, and never had anything published. Needless to say, felt a bit small compared to the others.
But it doesn't matter because I know I have one thing in abundance, one thing that makes me the same as every one of those talented blokes. Passion. An unrelenting, unprecedented passion for writing. I've always wanted to be a writer, I write every damn day, and I know that writing for TV is what I want to do. What I need to do. Hell, considering I turned down a full time teaching job with a great salary and benefits, I must be serious.
So I met everyone, very exciting, and then it was time to head on out to our tour of Red Hook. I'd never been to Red Hook before, and only knew it from the Lovecraft story where it was described as a horrible place of murder, mutilation, and unholy cults. So I was surprised when our first stop was this beautiful Latin festival with soccer and some of the best cart food I ever had. I had an empanade, this cool cheesy cornbread, and some green and hybiscus juices. Delicious and a great way to start. The rest of our tour was more like the Red Hook I knew.
Red Hook was supposed to be a giant landfill because of Mayor Giuliani. That bastard! Here's the largest organic farm... being poisoned by cement dust! Here's the nicest park and pier in NY... that we only got after a firefighter died! Mobsters, dead principals, I even expected the sugar factory to be half made of poison. It was so freaking depressing.
However, I did see one cool thing written on a park wall that I must put in if I can. "We are proud to be children in Red Hook." Doesn't that just say it all? And it really does because the people of Red Hook are so proud. It's beautiufl really.
Our last stop was a bar, the home of all true writers, and I got o know some of my colleagues a lot better. Great people. And then Norm, the man who runs the program, and the other administrators left and I decided that since I had time to kill I would stay and drink with my cool colleagues. And then most of them left and it was just me and Amber and Angel and drinking. Good times. We even somehow got on the topic of Orson Welles directing porn and I was branded with the pron name Joe "Heavy" Pettine. Get it. It's definitely better than Sloppy Joe.
Then the drinks funneled down our gullets and the sun set behind the dilapidated buildings and it was time to go. And we were trapped in subwayless Red Hook with only the vaguest idea of the way back. So I stuck with my new friends and hoped they would get me home. Then we saw some more of our new writing buddies and next thing you know, we're on an Ikea bus. Free but Swedish.
I did my best to stick with my comforting pals but they all had lives in the City and I still had to get back to Manhattan before I bus left. So I ran across the street, hopped the subway, waited with unprecedented anxiety for the damn thing to get me back to Manhattan, and I ran, I mean like a fucking action hero, down the street to my bus.
I realized I was going the wrong way after a second and immediately ran the other way. It was intense, and pretty sly considering all the people I weaved around, but, Thank God, I made the bus and got home and that was Day Zero. Day One should be interesting.