Super Bowl Sunday, 2p.m.

The emails are flying from Hollywood. I was up at 5a.m. rewriting this script, again, and at around 7a.m. they started arriving. Last weekend I worked on a different script, going to the copiers mid-week in a monsoon, etc…but that one seems already to have been forgotten.
Everything changed with one comment by one huge director. And, I’m dying to tell you but I can’t. Just to hear my producer thrilled again is worth it.
Actually, my friend in LA is having a great year thus far. First there’s a documentary. Plus, he just got word that a book he wrote is going to be published, after – get this – 20 years of rejections.
I don’t mean to sound so show-business here. Believe me months and months went by without a peep out of LA, but one comment from a major director and they’re talking about me again.
This producer has been nothing but kind. A few years back, he and his wife invited me to stay with them and attend the Producer’s Guild awards. Plus they’ve put a lot of work into these projects. It’s very hard not to like people who are actively trying to make you rich.
That one awards banquet was so educational because I heard lots of producers telling their stories. Even well-connected people on the inside have to fight to get their projects made and it takes years.
They honored the legendary Robert Evans and Dustin Hoffman introduced him with an impression of how producers talk – much like he did in “Wag the Dog.” That was ridiculously cool.
There was also the thing of being hot or over. My friend told another impact-type director – at least in my eyes – about these projects and I was amazed. But apparently, although the guy was on top back in the 80s, it is over now. Very weird, but still interesting. The level of desperation in the room was noticeable, along with the glitz. Sitting at the very next table over was Diane Lane, for Christ sake. I’ll never forget how alluring she was before it started, when I was around 2 ft away from her shaking hands. My God. There’s a reason they’re movie stars. And they’re all so damn skinny.
Oh well. I banged out a major rewrite today. I walked up on Mt. Tabor. The endorphins are flowing, and it’s Super Bowl Sunday.
Sometimes life is sweet.