...first (and only response) from one of the producers was that he was "92% pleased" with it.
That's an A.
If we got 92% on Rotten Tomatoes, I'd be ecstatic.
Would I like 100%? Yes, yes I would.
Does this mean there will be additional notes heading towards us...?
I'm 92% certain.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
New Notes
Four pages of new notes received last night.
Thankfully, an element they'd eliminated despite our protests has made its way back in with a "sorry we lead you astray on this" mini-pology.
So there's a silver lining to every "we have notes"...
Thankfully, an element they'd eliminated despite our protests has made its way back in with a "sorry we lead you astray on this" mini-pology.
So there's a silver lining to every "we have notes"...
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
so THAT happened...
I played an open mic at DWA today.
I had an in, as I work there.
I played three original songs (TOOM, Accidental Love, Superhero Song). It'd been about eight years since I played my last open mic. As was my tradition all those years ago, I wore a hockey jersey. Today's was Gilbert Perrault -- a gift from Jessica and my sisters Aimee and Kristin.
My guitar was dusty. My fingers and strings were rusty. I eventually dropped the pick into the body of the guitar towards the end of the third song. But I enjoyed every nervous minute.
Thankfully, I brought backup in the form of Jenna Bryson -- a friend and powerfully talented singer/songwriter. I was her opening act. I primed the crowd with my awkward innocence/subtle sexuality and she wowed them with her pipes and power. I chimed in with the banter between her songs which was I think easy and free-flowing since I didn't have to play my guitar to do it.
I had an in, as I work there.
I played three original songs (TOOM, Accidental Love, Superhero Song). It'd been about eight years since I played my last open mic. As was my tradition all those years ago, I wore a hockey jersey. Today's was Gilbert Perrault -- a gift from Jessica and my sisters Aimee and Kristin.
My guitar was dusty. My fingers and strings were rusty. I eventually dropped the pick into the body of the guitar towards the end of the third song. But I enjoyed every nervous minute.
Thankfully, I brought backup in the form of Jenna Bryson -- a friend and powerfully talented singer/songwriter. I was her opening act. I primed the crowd with my awkward innocence/subtle sexuality and she wowed them with her pipes and power. I chimed in with the banter between her songs which was I think easy and free-flowing since I didn't have to play my guitar to do it.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Dorks part 231
New revision submitted this week that has a bit of fun with the time-space continuum.
Thankfully, John had prepped this so it was only a matter of minor tweaking to make presentable.
Went out mid-Monday.
No word back yet.
Thankfully, John had prepped this so it was only a matter of minor tweaking to make presentable.
Went out mid-Monday.
No word back yet.
Why I'm not a poet...
I used to love writing poetry.
My first attempt to get into the UR's poetry class was fully rebuffed. (Of course, so was my attempt to get into the Creative Writing Fiction, but that's because I was only a Freshman).
As it turns out, I backdoored in. While the usual professor rejected me, the one who filled in for a semester loved my work and welcomed me in. (Wait, creative writing is subjective?)
Because I'd taken the first course, I was allowed into the advanced class with the usual professor. There was only about six of us. I was the ONLY member of the class to not place in the Dean's Prizes for poetry. (I got honorable mention for Creative Writing Fiction that year.)
I went to support the class and the professor asked me to join them for their group picture "just because." I declined.
When I told one of my filmmaking professors I was thinking about getting an MFA in Poetry, he asked "what's the going price on poems these days anyway?" In effect, wholly discouraging me from taking that route.
It's okay.
I'm a better screenwriter than I am a poet.
I'll let you know when I get to the going price on scripts...
My first attempt to get into the UR's poetry class was fully rebuffed. (Of course, so was my attempt to get into the Creative Writing Fiction, but that's because I was only a Freshman).
As it turns out, I backdoored in. While the usual professor rejected me, the one who filled in for a semester loved my work and welcomed me in. (Wait, creative writing is subjective?)
Because I'd taken the first course, I was allowed into the advanced class with the usual professor. There was only about six of us. I was the ONLY member of the class to not place in the Dean's Prizes for poetry. (I got honorable mention for Creative Writing Fiction that year.)
I went to support the class and the professor asked me to join them for their group picture "just because." I declined.
When I told one of my filmmaking professors I was thinking about getting an MFA in Poetry, he asked "what's the going price on poems these days anyway?" In effect, wholly discouraging me from taking that route.
It's okay.
I'm a better screenwriter than I am a poet.
I'll let you know when I get to the going price on scripts...
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Can you smell that smell?
I dated a girl and she smelled weird.
Not foul, not ripe... vintage.
Vintage like the clothes at Goodwill. (I've done my fair share of shopping at Goodwill)
I don't know how someone ends up smelling like that.
It wasn't bad, just... off.
Someone walked by me today with that smell.
Memory is a funny thing.
Thankfully, my fiancee smells wonderful.
Not foul, not ripe... vintage.
Vintage like the clothes at Goodwill. (I've done my fair share of shopping at Goodwill)
I don't know how someone ends up smelling like that.
It wasn't bad, just... off.
Someone walked by me today with that smell.
Memory is a funny thing.
Thankfully, my fiancee smells wonderful.
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